Sometimes I feel so intimate with God its like talking to myself. Sometimes it’s like I’m so deep in the forest that I’m just calling. I don’t feel alone when I speak his name. Jesus.
I know others call God with different names. Yahweh. Elohim. Christ. Master. Friend. My Lord. My sweet lord. Lover.
God calling.
Holy Spirit come
I know God is here and I’m the one circling. Better to say Human Come. It’s like sighting in a rifle or a bow. The word sin means to miss the mark. I’m usually just trying to get into the day. Get into the moment.
Meditation, when I’m just trying to focus on my breathing and my mind is dancing about doing anything but going where I say. They called it monkey mind.Some called it ego.
Self is the term for that which is in touch with God. The nieu was a term of the mystical medieval days , the place of the heart where the heart of man met the heart of God. The language was clear then differentiating sentimentalism from intuition. This synchronistic place of being in the flow. Rocketed to the 4th dimension, the old Jungian term of feeling no longer separate and apart, but together and ‘at - one’. Atonement.
I begin this day in prayer. I pray for your presence and protection. I’m afraid these days. Afraid mostly of the government , this corrupt Borg like presence. The Modor. But really it’s mostly intellectual. A fear state from Facebook and Internet news. Constant punishment of increasing taxes on the hard working and honest while criminals prosper. White collar crime. blue collar crime. Public and private sector crime. My hard fought for and barely won dollars taken by a corrupt government and given to dictatorships and corrupt countries with the claim of helping the people. Ludicrous. Disgusting journalism protecting government malefaction. Billions ‘lost’ overseas and I’m struggling with 40% taxes and another 20% taxes on taxes. Paying for terrorists, euthanasia, and the big money abortion industry.
I have to let it go. I feel how people in communist, fascist and dictatorship countries feel knowing I’m partially complicit with with deeply evil, corrupt and decadent leadership of the country. Yet the government workers, beaurcrats and local city and provincial governments are doing okay. I really have yet to learn to look on the bright side. Remember the Monty Python song:)
Here my dog is resting peacefully waiting for the walk of the morning. We’ve played. Down on my knees in his space, butting heads rolling about. He gets me to scratching his back and give belly rubs. That’s okay. Life is good. When the dogs asleep. Napping dogs mean safety. He barks at the door when he’s afraid. He looks confused when he hears or smells a strangeness.
I’m okay. No critical aches and pain. I look the vehicle over and kick the tires. I’m thankful for the human and this spirit both relaxed today. I’m thankful for the propane and running water and heat. I’m thankful for the light. I guess my next activity will be to shave and put on outdoor clothes.
It’s Saturday. Saturday’s are truly blessings. I dream of camping. This is good. The winter receding. The spring flowers appearing. The rain has stopped. I’d better get ready and take this reprieve as a time to walk the little fellow. My body needs the exercise. Exercise is still untaxed and not fattening. It’s really good for me. Time to go outside. Getting outside is good too. Doing good is good. I aim for that each day.
Doing Good. The target. I feel I’m more on the bench watching the game. I’m not courageous. I don’t like to suffer. I want to be cared for and coddled . I fear no one will do for me what I’ve done for all. But if a dog doesn’t wag his tail no one will do it for him. I’m needing exercise. I’d like to win the Lottery but rarely buy tickets. I’ve done pretty well. Ive had so many blessings. This day is grace. Time to get out.
Go outside and play, Billy! I remember my mother telling me when I was happy to read books all day.
Thank you Jesus. Thank you lover, lover, lover, come back to me.
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