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Category: Just for Fun

Sunset on Another Year

Today’s the Eve of New Year’s Eve.
For a lot of us it’s a time to tidy up after Christmas. Take the decorations down and store them away for another year.
Others may still be returning gifts or redeeming gift cards. Gotta keep Amazon busy!
For many it’s just another day. Back to work trying to make sure all of the year-end accounting is completed.
Then there are those who take the last few days of the year to reflect on the days now past.
The days of darkness from a year ago when the cold winds whipped across the landscape. Snow and ice piled up in parking lots. Yet, with lengthening daylight came a bit of hope.
Hope that was finally realized when the first crocus forced its head up through the still thawing earth. There was the return of the birds and other animals after their long winter sojourn in other places or hidden away from the forces of Nature.
Hope gave way to realization of new life and green trees. Warmth seeping into the ground to rouse the seed and call the sprout from its protective shell.
Soon the colors change and daylight again begins to wane. Harvest time! Gladness in the fruit of the ground!
Then, the circle closes as we come, yet again, to the end.

Or, is it a beginning?

As the Cosmos cycles through birth, life, and death, so too do we.
There are cries of newborns and sighs of the aged and infirm.
Relationships blossom and bloom. While others get tangled in the weeds, choke, and pass into compost.

Yet, it continues.

We still hope.

We still sow and reap.

Perhaps it is a good thing to reflect.
To remember things as they are and have been.


But, we can’t dwell there, can we?

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Both/And

It’s hard living in a binary world.
On/Off
Black/White
I/O
Right/Wrong

For, in God’s Cosmos there are even more colors than Microsoft’s Millions and Millions.
There is the space between the river above and the river below as water cascades over the stones that divide the two. In that space the water is neither above nor below. It is neither In one or out of the other.
It is Between Space.

Right?
Wrong?
According to whom?
You?
Me?
Someone else?

Yes, some things must fall in one or the other.
Murder?
Wrong!
Rape?
Also, Wrong!
Feed the Poor?
Always Right!
Give a needed hug?
Right, again.

We don’t usually need to make those kinds of choices in our everyday lives, though.
Do we?

No, most of the time we need to decide between strawberry and grape jelly with the peanut butter on the sandwich.
Neither right nor wrong.

Yet, we fight and argue over the color of the bathroom or which gas station to go to.
“No! I want Yellow paint! I’ll pick it up on my way to Get-Go!”
“Forget that! You’ll get Blue paint on your way back from Speedway!”

From politics to religion to whether Spam is actually food, we disparage one another.
“It’s my way or the highway!” we shout.

But, what if it’s not?

Rather than Either This or That,
What if life is actually filled with

Both/And?

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Friday Bits-N-Pieces

I’ve never written a post that consists of bits-n-pieces of happenings and stuff. So, this is a new adventure for all of us! Yippee!

I’m currently on vacation from work. I had quite a bit of time to use up before the end of the year. I like taking time now. It gives me a chance to finish Christmas preparations at a pace that helps me remain sane. I finished shopping, the house is decorated, and cards have been mailed. All I have to do is wrap a few things. Then, Bring it on!!! I’m ready!!!

It’s been an exciting time for writing posts for this blog. Views have been consistent. While I would like to see followers and comments increase, I know that all things happen in their own time. I need to keep trying to produce content worth your time to read.
If any of you who actually do take the time to read what I post, how about dropping me a line in the comments to let me know what you think? I don’t bite. At least not too hard. And, it would be good to know who’s actually out there.

I’ve written a bit about my journey at St. Barnabas Episcopal Church recently. I started attending there regularly a little over a year ago. Since that time I’ve met a lot of people who truly want to follow Jesus. And, not just with lip service. They take seriously the statement that God loves Everyone…No exceptions.
Since last June I have had the privilege of leading a weekly Bible study. Few people come to it. I think partly because it’s before the worship service and many have kids to get ready. Plus, it’s early on Sunday morning. But, those who have been coming are excited about it. It’s not your typical study. I don’t follow a curriculum. Nor, do I pretend to be a teacher. We use the readings from the lectionary for that particular Sunday morning. Then, we discuss what we read. We ask questions of the text. We question God about what was written. Why was it written? Who wrote it? When was it written? To whom was it written? We don’t teach morality or politics. We talk about the text. In leading this way I hope to help folks learn how to read and listen to the Scriptures with a critical mind. We push back on some of the popular ways that the Bible is used as a weapon. Or, how people try to pawn of their certainty that the Bible says this or that.
It has been a fun journey so far.

Speaking of St. Barnabas…
Tomorrow, Saturday the 21st, we are having a special service for those who may be grieving or may have suffered some loss. This is difficult at any time. But, during the holidays loss may be even harder to deal with. So, we are offering this time to reflect, to pray, to walk a labyrinth, and to share our grief with God and one another.
Jesus gave a commandment that we are to love one another. This is just one more way for us to flesh that out.

Well, that’s about all I have right now.
Let me know what’s happening with you in the comments!

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Little Boxes

This morning as I sat in the quiet of my office, candles casting a soft luminance across my desk, shadows quietly dancing to the movement of the flames, an image formed in my mind.
The image was of a man wearing a robe with gold woven into it. He was leading a procession down a street.
There were some others wearing similar robes. Someone carried a banner like a flag.
Many people followed in the train of these men.
They appeared to be full of joy, singing together.

I wondered at this for a moment.

Then, I realized that I recognized these people.
They were walking away from a church that had at one time been a place where the Holy Spirit was alive and active.

But, something happened to change that.

The people created boxes.
They were pretty boxes.
There were green ones and red ones. Some purple and still others yellow and blue.
The people I saw marching down the street each held one of the boxes.

“What’s in those boxes?” I asked.

“Why, God, of course,” came the reply.

My forehead furrowed as I looked on, perplexed.
“Those boxes are awfully small,” I said. “How did they get God into those?”

The answer surprised me.

“All of those people shrunk God so that God would fit!” the voice said. The tone was like a person stating something so obvious that the question was just silly.
“They have each imagined God as a small, parochial deity that can only do certain small things.
The God of their imagination cannot accept anyone who has not prayed a certain prayer in a very certain way. This God is not capable of loving the many and diverse people and creatures of the Cosmos. Only people who look like them are acceptable to their God. These people have very strict rules about what their God is allowed to do. God must be able to fit inside of their small imagination. So, naturally, this God must be small enough to fit in the boxes!”

As I sat there considering what I had just seen and heard, I could not help feeling sorry for those people. They had created a god that fit their own idea of what a god was. This god is impotent. It is incapable of expressing divine love because it is constructed out of the paper mache of the human mind. It really is sad.

I can understand it a little, though.
If we allow God to exist outside of our little boxes then God might just do something we don’t expect. God might surprise us with the vastness and ferociousness of Divine Love. We might even find ourselves changed! Our hearts and imaginations might become vast and ferocious as well. We might find that we are compelled to Love Others. If we’re not careful we may find ourselves caring about the Cosmos like it was our very own backyard.

We can’t have that kind of stuff happening…

Can we?

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It’s The Most Wonderful Time…

“You better hustle your bustle, Missy!” he said to the young girl.
Her small hand holding firm to his as her short legs churned to keep up.
“We don’t want to be late, now. Do we?”
Looking up she saw the broad smile across her Dad’s face.
Eyes glittering, she smiled back and shook her head.

They walked past store windows with bright displays of Christmas trees and gifts. Trains chugga-chugged around the bottom of the trees. Real smoke huffing and puffing from the locomotives.
Characters dressed up in caps and scarfs, heads moving back and forth as carols rang out, stood next to stacks of wrapped boxes.

The man and his daughter walked through a great, revolving door into a huge store. People rushing about with bags and packages in their arms. Others milling about counters sniffing various fragrances. Other children standing next to those people looking bored.

To the escalator the two hurried.
Second floor: Housewares
Hurry around to the next set of moving stairs.
Third floor: Bedding and Curtains.
One more time around the block!
Fourth floor…
Christmas Town!

The young girl looked around, her eyes wide with amazement.
There were trees decorated with all different colors of lights and ornaments.
White puffs that looked like snow covered the floors next to the aisles.
Row after row of toys and elves stood all around them.

At the end of one aisle there was a tall red and white poll standing.
Beneath it there was a team of reindeer pawing the ground and bobbing their heads.
A great, red sleigh sat behind them.

“Hurry, Daddy!” the girl cried. “There’s already a line!”
“You run and get in line,” he said releasing her hand.
As she queued up, she looked back at him.
Her eyes aglow, a great smile that seemed to light up her face.
Soon, she would see, well, you know…

May your hopes and dreams and the anticipation of good things bring you joy as you walk through this most wonderful time of the year.

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Wednesday Morning Musing

“How big is God?” the young child asked.
I scratched my chin and thought.
“Well, Peter Gabriel thinks that God is a Really. Big. God,” I mused to myself.
The god that I used to pray to was pretty small, I guess.
That god was always pissed off at the pettiest things. He was the Cosmic Grumpy McGrumperson. He seemed ready to just send everyone to Hell and take names later.

Then, I realized that God isn’t like that at all.
No, God is as big as the Cosmos.
God’s love extends beyond the reaches of the Universe.
God laughs!

“My child, God is bigger than your imagination.
God smiles as God hides inside a Nebula.
God puts Diviner hands over God’s laughing eyes and plays
Peek-a-boo with a comet.
God races across the Cosmos to send a Pulsar spinning like a top.
Yet, God finds Joy resting within your little heart.
God wraps up in your love and your desire just as you wrap yourself in your favorite blanket.”

“So, how big is God?”

“As big as you need God to be.”

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Friday Morning Musing

What matters whether transcendent or translucent?
Original Sin stains, sealing souls in black plastic wrap.
Light shrouded in gray folds of wayward hungering
Diffusing, obscuring from within and without.

“Not so fast!” a Voice whispers; intones; suggests
“The veil that shrouds the Heart has colored the understanding in colorless shades of shadow.
“Let the Light within dispel such childish notion!
“Arise to the morning and warmth that Truth, like Sunlight, radiates upon the Soul.”

I marvel at this.
What Truth?
Then, like the Dawn, understanding gently begins to illuminate.
All is held in thrall to darkness; decay; death.
This we mistake for Original Sin.
It is not.
Yet, the story doesn’t end there.

No.

This story continues from life to life.
From light to light.
From Love to Love.

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Fertile Field of the Mind

Some days my mind just doesn’t want to work.
I look out across the landscape of my imagination and see swirling dust devils and hard, sun baked rocks reaching out of the ground like the dead fingers of some poor, undead soul reaching from the grave.
I wonder, “Where has the lush green forests where unseen woodland creatures dance and play?”

There is nothing.

Perhaps, somewhere beneath this parched surface there lies a seed; dormant; waiting.
If I should quest to find that River of Creativity that meanders through the Cosmos, could I maybe retrieve a cap full of that Blessed water to wet the uncracked germ that houses the glorious life within?
But, that river is like the Nexus from that Star Trek movie. It moves and wanders through the Cosmos seemingly at will. Where will it appear next?

If I may be able to find it, could I possibly dig a ditch to channel some of that Living Water to irrigate the fertile soil of my Mind?
Just a small bit to moisten the earth that forms the womb for the sleeping embryo of Creativity to germinate.

Then, root and shoot moving away. Action; Reaction garnering strength from the germ of life within the seed.
Root searching for moisture and nutrition. Shoot digging ever upward in search of the light and warmth of the Sun.
Leaf and bud forming to empower and create!

That is where Life is!

But, for now, I wait.

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“It” Revisited

Stephen King, 1986

I finally finished reading Stephen King’s “It” for the second time over the weekend. It took way longer than I had intended. It supposed to be a Halloween thing.
Oh, well.

Like all of King’s books, this one is not great literature. He’ll be the first one to tell you that.
But, like most of King’s books, it’s a really great story.

There is a lot of gore in the story. But, that’s part of early King.
There is suspense and horror. Again, King’s early M.O.

And, I enjoyed the telling immensely. In fact, as I began the book I saw in my mind’s eye a group of people sitting around a campfire listening as King begins to tell his tale. All of the images of my youth as we sat at night trying to scare each other with whatever “ghost” story we had recently learned.

Remember the one about the escaped psychopathic murderer? Yeah, the one where the kids drove away with a hook dangling from the door of their car? (Click here.)

In rereading this story, I was cast back into the world of youth where you can find a hook hanging from the door. Or, where werewolves and walking mummies truly exist.
That land of Faerie where tales of gingerbread cottages and wolves that have big eyes that are better to see you with, my dear.

But, we’ve all grown out of that. Right?
In the “real world” monsters and faeries and old crones who cook little children don’t really exist.
There is no magic.
Only harsh reality exists for us.

And, that is the theme that I gleaned from this reading of “It.”

That world where the imagination can turn water in an aspirator into battery acid washes away as we “grow up” and “mature.”
Playing cards attached to our bicycles so that they click-clack on the spokes and turn the bike into a motorcycle are, in fact, only paper cards.

Yet, at the end of King’s story, all of the characters, now grown up, find that it is only in becoming like children could they overcome and finally destroy It.
It was the power of imagination and innocence, of memory and childlike friendship, that gave them the ability to see the evil as it was and overcome it once and for all.

I think that we loose that ability at our peril.

I think that when we become too old and ‘grown up’ to believe in the unbelievable part of our core humanity is lost.

I think we need to write and hear tales of Faerie that just might come true.

Because, there are monsters in this world that only child-like belief and faith can overcome.

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Seasons Change, and So Do We

I was just thinking about someone who at one time was my best friend in the world.
That was over 5 decades ago. I haven’t seen him since elementary school.
Yet, my heart is warmed by the memories of building tree houses and riding skateboards, (back when they were little more than a board with the steel wheels from roller skates screwed to them.)

With Middle School and High School came new friends and interests. Those, too, have fallen at the wayside of time and life.

I can follow each path that I walked upon in my life. There are people, places, scents, tastes, and sounds that bring each path into bright, colorful focus.
Each stage is, in its own way, good. Each has left its imprint on who I am Now.

And, like flowers that bloom and provide beauty and fresh fragrance, each path is eventually spent and falls to the ground.

I mention this because there is also a part of us, perhaps woven into the very fabric of our humanity, that wants to remain walking the same path. We don’t want to veer left or right. Not even when the path diverges into several.
“I don’t want to hurt their feelings,” we say about a relationship that has run its course.
“What if I’m wrong?” is a question that paralyzes people. We are frozen, unable to move on way or the other. All the while, the sands of time continue to fall into the bottom of the glass.

A Greek philosopher, Heraclitus is credited with saying, “Nothing is permanent except change.”

If true, then perhaps embracing change would help us to flower and flourish.
Yes, some blossoms bloom and die.
They are soon replaced by other blossoms that bloom in their season.

Qoheleth wrote:

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven

Seasons come; Seasons go.
Such is the way of the Cosmos.
Embrace the change.
After all, it is the only permanence we have.

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