Did Creator make a mistake in His design of women’s “purpose?“
Are they on the earth to simply guide men to the Light above and share in the Love such a man might bring back with him to our earthly plane?
Did Creator make a mistake in His design of women’s “purpose?“
Are they on the earth to simply guide men to the Light above and share in the Love such a man might bring back with him to our earthly plane?
Thought I was dying Monday morning.
Just finished eating a plateful of scrambled eggs, bacon and home fries, topped off with a honey bun, and had started in on a second cup of coffee when: “BAM.”
Hearing the screech of tires, I react quickly. Push foot to the brake and veer to the right of the car in front of me.
The Greatest Weekend — No. II
Uncanny coincidences kept cropping up yesterday as I attended a gathering of one of those “Meet-Up” groups.
Got eerie, downright mystical-like, if you know what I mean.
Glenda “laid hands” on me; I lost track of who I was and why!
I had stubbed my two helping three guys move a heavy piano from one section of the room to another, when a leg got too close to the big toe, and I yelped like an injured animal, but held onto my section, maneuvering the mahogany-framed instrument to the center of this place of worship.
The bottle of Listerine spilled, and the car smelled of antiseptic. A ’57 Chevy should never suffer such an indignation.
The fool showed up uninvited to the Wildwood, NJ, beach house and created a mess good folk hardly talk about now-a-days. He sat “Indian-style” on the living room rug with Billy Kane, both about the same age, 18 to 19. There were two or three other guys drinking beer as Billy passed ‘em around. And then Kane “barfed” on the fool. Threw up onto the fool’s bare legs uncovered by the summer shorts he wore. “Kanie,” as we called the one who “likes his brew,” smiled a devilishly Irish grin, before offering a fake apology. The fool said nothing. We thought he would take offense by Kanie’s antics, something he had done for laughs before among those who liked his raunchy sense of humor.
Psalm 46:
9 — He maketh wars to cease unto the end of the earth; he breaketh the bow, and cutteth the spear in sunder; he burneth the chariot in the fire.
10 — Be still and know that I am God.
“There is none else besides Him.”
“If I’m not for me, who is for me?”
“There is none else besides me.”
Who am I? Am I this body, this mind, this soul? Perhaps, all three?
Body changes all the time, I’m told. Don’t have the same one I did a month ago, and it’s definitely gone through scillions of changes in the seven years I grew a completely new epidermis. That’s a new skin for any who’d like to compare man to a snake.
“The Crossing” filled me with sounds of the Rapture last night as I surrendered to the harmonies some 25 voices offered me on entering Heaven.
I left my physical body and merged with music that only God could have imagined when He “thought” Creation into being.
My jaws clamp down, insuring I won’t let go of what I just uncovered. It’s taken me for what seems forever to get my teeth around it, and I won’t give up without a fight. Even if I get kicked. Again. Square in the face where it hurts, but I’ll get over it.
I know of what you speak, about your ache.
I close my eyes and I feel the longing, the yearning that cannot be quenched, no matter what liquid I try to fill myself with. It’s just a substitute, a “pretender” that does little if anything to cool the fire, the pulsating magma that enflames a wound that seems never to heal in a million years.
Wouldn’t it be great to make a phone call and ask a receptionist to put you through to the Creator? The next time you have a problem, and you want to do the right thing, you could simply dial “G . . . O . . . D” long distance.
Walked a Labyrinth and stepped into Vietnam last night.
Trouble is . . . I liked it. Did not want to leave the maze despite what lay ahead. Strangely, I felt “safe” there. Secure in my “skills.” Didn’t want to come home. Just like years earlier.
An eerie silence greeted me as I opened my bathroom door, stepped inside, and looked at the window facing the yard. I had just woken up. This, the first morning without a rooster in my daily life.
He flew at my head and clawed at my eye. Blood seeped out the left side of the nose, cheek, and the right ear, where the rooster attacked, getting in one last “lick” at me.
Never thought “revenge“ had anything good to say about itself. It’s a negative trait. Falls in with Anger, Rage and “getting even.”
The one you see, hear and experience daily. And another one, where you pass through a veil that causes Amnesia once you step all the way through. You no longer have a past. You have no concern for the future, since you’ve accepted the fact that all you really need in this “New” world will be provided.
Let me give all of my Blog post readers a hint at what my next Spiritual Journey will Involve:
Continue readingBack talk. Anyone experiencing pain might know where I’m headed. My back is talking loud and clear, and no matter what I do, I can’t shut it up.
You opened my heart to something I closed years ago.
Not ready to look inside. Almost, but not just yet.
Your words touched me with a warmth I haven’t felt in a long time. They caressed me, and I liken it to a mother’s love and pride I couldn’t handle at the family reunion last Saturday.
I “Come Alive” inside, as my body comes to a complete rest and I let the mind follow suit. Sound boring? It’s anything but! And it’s been one of the toughest things I’ve ever attempted.
Couldn’t do it some 30 years ago when I tried to “halt” my active state of mind. Thought I “got through” and tamed the busy monkey once or twice, but it was wishful thinking on my part.