The L Word … April 23rd, 2019

Jonathots Daily Blog

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THE

WORD

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Well, I was having a devil of a time deciding between two different words that I wanted to select as the nasty one that should never be spoken aloud.

It had to be an “L word,” of course, and a pair came to my mind. After thinking about it for a few minutes, I realized the reason I was having such a hard time figuring out which one to choose is that the two are brothers. Maybe even twins.

So if I can break my own rule, I will tell you that I have decided to bring this duo of damnation to the forefront together for public incrimination.

So the L Word, or in this case, words, that should never be spoken again are:

Luck and Loser

I am a firm believer that anything that makes anyone believe that he or she is destined by the stars, the heavens or hell itself to be a certain way—well, that thing, or in this case, these words need to be attacked.

We are free-will creatures. We are not born, trapped in a body, a mind, a heart or even a soul. We have the freedom to reject all insinuations or even genetic leanings.

When you remove free will from people you start talking about two other diabolical ideas:

Blessing and Cursing

Here you go—I am not blessed, because I’m not cursed. And I’m not cursed sitting around waiting for approval to receive blessing. I am an independent agent, working on Planet Earth, trying to understand its science, its natural order and its humanity.

Once I believe that I am waiting for good luck to imbue me with blessing, or bad luck to curse me to become a loser, I actually at the beckoning of indifference, apathy and laziness.

There are three lies that make us feel as if we are controlled by luck, causing us to believe that some people are born losers.

Lie #1: You are not in control

Yes, you are. And if you aren’t, the whole idea of Earth, living, and even spirituality falls apart as a house of cards of hypocrisy. You are in control of your life, so start acting like it.

No one’s going to come and “take your wheel” nor is anyone going to come and steal your thunder. This is your life. Using words like “luck and loser” cast people into deep, dark shadows, making it difficult for them to feel their way through the bleak surroundings to discover purpose. How about another lie?

Lie #2: You are cursed or blessed.

Since God is no respecter of persons, He can neither curse you nor bless you. In both cases, He would be showing favoritism. He won’t.

It is possible to obtain mercy and it is certainly in the realm of consideration to be given grace. But to get mercy you have to give mercy and for grace to kick into your life, you have to remain humble.

I am grateful for mercy and grace. But it still is in my hands and my actions to receive them. After all, amazing grace is not so amazing if you’re not amazed.

And the final lie that traps people into thinking about luck and calling one another “loser” is:

Lie #3: God has a wonderful plan for your life.

There is an independence in the human spirit that was placed there by the Creator. Adam had no problem telling God, in Eden, that having thousands of animals around was insufficient for fellowship, but that he required someone more personal. Each one of us has a voice.

The truth: God has given you a wonderful life for your plan.

For He will never give you free will and then renege on the deal.

Here’s my version of luck—I live my life like I’m expecting opportunity, and when it dribbles in, I use it and expand it the best I possibly can.

I find that I only become a loser when I believe I don’t have enough to do something that would start me in the right direction.

Luck and loser—words born of darkness

You don’t need luck.

What you need is to take an inventory of what you truly have and find a way to win just a few more than you lose.

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Iz and Pal (Bedouin Buddies)

Jonathots Daily Blog

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Sitting Eight

By midday, Iz and Pal had developed a brand-new game. They called it, “Your Book, My Book.”

They mentioned the various names that were in the Talmud and the Koran, and were shocked to find out how many were the same. Abraham was in both, as was Joseph, Isaac, Ishmael, Noah, Adam, Eve, Moses. Yes, they were all there.

Iz’s book had some other different names and Pal’s mentioned both Jesus of Nazareth and Mohammed, but it was really quite surprising. Kind of freaky.

They also realized that the two of them looked much the same. By now they smelled the same. They both believed in God. Both had never touched pork and had strict families. They came from desert Bedouins and they both really, really liked Hershey chocolate bars with almonds.

Aside from Iz being shorted by circumcision and Pal not really having a country, they should be brothers.

It made them wonder if anyone had ever thought of it before. They were so preoccupied with their new game that neither noticed the arrival of a guest—a slender, lanky young man with dark brown skin, curly hair and pieces of coal for eyes—piercing but still permitting some of the warmth of childhood.

Iz did not recognize the stranger but Pal knew him.  He spoke quietly. “Hello, Talsan.”

The young man stood tall, staring off into the distance. “It is hot, my little brother. You will sicken yourself in this heat.”

“I drink as much as I can,” said Pal, continuing his calm tone.

Talsan chuckled. “In the desert, by the time you think to drink, it is already too late.”

He sat down next to his younger brother.

Iz spoke up. “I am Jubal,” he stated. “Amir’s friend.”

“So,” asked Talsan, “are you the trouble-maker?”

Pal interrupted. “No, I am the trouble-maker. No, I mean—there is no trouble. We are just enjoying being together.”

Talsan shook his head. “Papa is worried. He has talked to the elders.”

Pal quickly shifted to his haunches. “Why did he talk to them?”

Talsan raised his voice. “Because he wasn’t going to talk to you out here in the desert, running from family and Allah.”

“I’m not running,” said Pal. “All my life I’ve done whatever I was told to do, even though there were questions exploding in my mind.”

“Questions?” scoffed Talsan, “what questions?”

Pal paused as if deciding whether to continue the conflict. “All right, Talsan,” he said with intensity. “Answer this. Why do we live in a religion, in a culture, that speaks so highly of family, friends and love, but then teaches us to hate these people walking nearest to us in the village?”

“We do not hate them,” Talsan spat. “They hate us. We are merely protecting our lives.”

Iz jumped in. “I don’t hate you. I don’t hate Pal. I don’t hate your father. I would just like to live—and have some fun.”

Talsan laughed scornfully. “Now I know you are a boy. Fun is out of the question. We are to become men and take our place—first at the universities and then, in leadership of our communities.”

“Without fun?” asked Pal.

Talsan heaved a deep sigh. “Papa has explained all of this to you. It is time for you to come home. He will not pursue you. He will pray for you but he will not come to you. It is a shame and a disgrace that you would wish him to defile himself by chasing his son down in the desert.”

“I don’t want him to chase me,” shouted Pal. “I want him to leave me alone and let my friend, Iz, and me, start a new life. Maybe a new town.”

“Or even a country,” piped in Iz.

“Iz,” said Talsan. “Listen to yourself, little boy. Our country has existed for thousands of years, filled with tradition and rich spirituality.”

Iz interrupted. “But how can it be spiritual when it is so full of hate?”

Talsan shook his head. “Do you hate the lamb when you take the wool? Do you hate the chicken when you collect its eggs? Do you hate the animal when you spill its blood to provide meat for your table? What you call hate is merely the way of nature. Things that are alike seek their own. In the process, they reject different species so as to keep purity within the ranks.”

Pal screamed at his brother. “You make no sense! Is this what they teach you at the university? These are just weird stories that don’t mean anything. My friend, Iz, here, is not a chicken. And I’m not an animal stuck in some herd. Talsan, you cannot tell me that you believe this.”

Talsan drew a deep breath. “What I believe has no power if it cannot change what I see. All of my wishes for peace and love are meaningless when I live in a world of bigotry and intolerance. I don’t want to change the world. I just want to keep the world from changing me.”

Both boys squinted at him, confused.

Talsan grabbed Pal’s arm, pulling him to his feet. “You will go with me,” he stated.

Pal collapsed, forcing his body to the ground, as Iz grabbed the grenade.

Talsan spied the weapon extended in the young boy’s hand. “So this is your answer to violence?” he posed. “How are you any different than anyone else? You would kill me to maintain your little society?”

Pal, lying face-down in the ground, spit back, “Talsan, I don’t want to kill you. You are my brother. I just don’t want you to decide my life.”

Talsan released his hold on Pal’s arm and stepped a few paces away, then turned and said, “I will tell Papa that your mind is deranged by the desert sun, and that you are under the power of some evil spirit. This should comfort him.”

He continued. “My little brother, I do not know what you’re doing. I do not know what in the hell this ‘Iz and Pal’ business is all about, but you are skin of my skin and blood of my blood. I will not hate you because I do not understand. This is where I am different from Papa. I pray you will change your ways, but I do not want you to starve and die of thirst. I will have food and water delivered here every morning until you decide to come to your senses. You are a childish idiot—but that should not be a death sentence.”

Pal stood to his feet and gingerly gave his brother a hug. Talsan nodded at Iz and concluded, “I do not hate you Jews. I just don’t believe that God chose you any more than He chose me.”

“No argument from me,” said Iz simply. “And thanks for the food.”

The boys perched in silence and watched as Talsan made his way down the hill. With each step he took they realized they were growing further and further away from their families and communities. Soon there would be nothing but the sand under their feet and the love they had in their hearts.

Still, it seemed like enough.

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PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant … January 25th, 2017

 Jonathots Daily Blog

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Way of the Transgressor

Good morning, Adam

How is the Garden?

Still need a pardon?

Good day, dear Eve

You got the boot

Due to forbidden fruit

Hey, Julius–stabbing pain?

From Brutus, quite insane

Iscariot hit the ground

Unable to hang around

While Cleo, snakebit on the boat

Pretty dead–watch her float

Adolph, Eva tried to hunker

Side-by-side in the bunker

Booth shot like a dog

In the barn near the hog

Jezebel took her final bow

And quickly became puppy chow

Attila, a Hun, not much fun

Spent his life on the run

The devil–cast down to Earth

To torment the children given birth

For we lament wicked deeds

Fail to notice how it bleeds

The way of the transgressor is hard

Always playing the dead soul’s card

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G-Poppers … September 16th, 2016

 Jonathots Daily Blog

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Every human being has a seed.

The mission is to find it.

G-Pop discovered at an early age that he had the ability to make people laugh. He was also delighted to uncover a craft for taking words, forming sentences and compiling them into paragraphs which evolved into complete stories.

And then there was a song. Yes, a song–the blessing of making music.

Finding that seed was truly the greatest revelation in G-Pop’s life. Without it, worshipping a God of power made him feel too insignificant. Seeing the successes of others could tempt him to be envious.

After finding the seed, it was then G-Pop’s responsibility to plant it.

Sounds simple enough–yet it is essential to avoid planting seed where others suggest, or feeling that unless it is planted in a big field it is meaningless. Here’s the message:

• Plant where you are.
• Plant where available.
• Plant in the vicinity of your heart–and your feet.

Then, after finding the seed and planting it, the only other responsibility G-Pop had as a human being was to make sure he didn’t hurt anyone. There is only one way to truly hurt others and it always begins with a lie.

The serpent lied to Eve, Eve lied to Adam and Adam lied to God. The end result was hurt.

It is time to stop complicating the situation. It comes down to finding a seed, planting the seed … and not hurting anyone.

 

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PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant … July 8th, 2015

 Jonathots Daily Blog

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The Lore of Love

Eve loves Adam

Adam adores Eve

Tamra marries her madam

Dan commits to Steve

 

Each one pays a price

An internal sacrifice

For love has a voice

Often without choice

Compelling us to share

Daring us to care

Breeching our tradition

To announce its admission

Yea, of the eternal three

The “greatest of these is me”

Always on my mind

Thankfully gentle and kind

Making me believe

Teaching to receive

Can we question while kneeling

What is truly our inner feeling?

For if God is love, you see

And God is living in me

Then love must be my essence

The evidence of His presence

Or I am a foolish ass

Clanging sounding brass

So who am I to know

The one who helps you grow?

And who am I to refuse

The message of your good news?

Yes, and the best place to start

Is to birth mercy deep in my heart. 

 

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“Ifing” Way: Part 2… October 27, 2014

 Jonathots Daily Blog

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What if a voice of sanity had risen up at various stages in the story of human history, to offer a challenging view when craziness was about to win the day?

If …

Dad arrived just in time.

His youngest son was already primed and ready to run out the door to go see his older brother to try to reconcile hurt feelings. The siblings had never really been close, yet the bond of family had always meshed them with a sense of loyalty. But recent events had exacerbated the tenuous feelings, generating a volatile situation. A simple misunderstanding had turned into a sense of rejection, culminating in a looming burst of rage.

When the incident happened, Dad stepped between them to prevent violence, but the younger son, having a more optimistic nature, believed all that was needed was a good conversation. So he had privately decided to go off on his own, without any counsel, to see his brother at the work site so they could “rummage through their feelings” and arrive at resolution.

Fortunately, Dad came on the scene–just in time.

“Where are you going?” Dad asked.

The young man paused for a second, wondering if he could possibly deceive his father and achieve his own purposes, but then realized that was contrary to his heart.

“You know where I’m going. I’m going to make peace with my brother.”

The father smiled. “I know that seems like a good idea to you, and far be it from me to be against peace, but your brother is a complicated man and his emotions and thoughts are not privy to you, and therefore not available.”

The young man frowned.

Sensing his son’s disagreement, the father continued. “We could talk about this all day and we wouldn’t agree. What I would like you to do is trust me. If I end up being wrong, I’ll be the first to admit it. But I would like you to leave your brother alone for a while, until you and I agree on a better time. Because if you go and see him now, all you’re going to do is remind him of the pain of the conflict, and perhaps incense him over the idea that you appear to be the better brother because you’re trying to make things right. I want you to promise me–based upon our friendship and bond–that you will stay away from him until things are better.”

The young man objected. “But how can things get better if we don’t make them better?”

The father patted him on the shoulder and said, “Son, sometimes things don’t get better. But if we interfere, we can make them worse.”

He gave his younger son a hug. The boy agreed to stay away from his older brother until such time as was deemed appropriate.

As it turned out, the conversation never actually happened. The two brothers, who had never been particularly close, maintained a distance throughout their lives. They learned how to be appropriate during family gatherings, and gave each other proper respect and space.

Cain and Abel never became close friends.

But because Adam took his position as a father and intervened in a dangerous situation … no one had to die.

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“Ifing” Way: Part 1… October 20, 2014

Jonathots Daily Blog

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What if a voice of sanity had risen up at various stages in the story of human history, to offer a challenging view when craziness was about to win the day?

If …

It was the third night in a row she had returned home from work brooding. It wasn’t that she was always a sparkling conversationalist, but now a sadness had etched its way onto her features, making her apppear continually unhappy, which left him a little disgruntled, feeling that he was somehow at fault.

Tired of being uncertain of her feelings and attitudes, he broached the issue.

“What’s wrong — and before you tell me nothing, let me tell you that I know there is something, so let’s work with it from that angle.”

She looked surprised.

He laughed. “So now you’re gonna act surprised,” he said. “I know you’re not surprised. You probably just don’t want to talk about it.”

She took a long pause–so lengthy that he almost inserted another opinion, but restrained himself to allow her space.

“I have something to tell you,” she began, tears forming in her eyes.

He squelched an internal flinch, wondering how this could end up with anything good.

She continued. “You know that tree we were supposed to avoid?”

He thought for a second, then remembered and nodded.

She went on with her tale. “Well, I was a little confused about it. Maybe even a little frustrated. So I spent some time down there, just checking it out. I immediately discovered it wasn’t that different from any other tree on our land. Matter of fact, it was rather pleasant looking. Appealing.”

He resisted the instinct to interrupt and just nodded again.

“Well, long story short, I got tempted, maybe even urged, to eat the fruit. And ever since then, I’ve felt guilty and naked.”

“What do you mean by naked?” he inquired.

She squinted. “You know. Without being covered.”

“Covered with what?” he asked, frowning.

“I don’t know. This is why I didn’t want to tell you. I knew you wouldn’t understand. You are so much a man…”

“Now I am confused,” he inserted. “We’ve never talked like this before. It was never ‘man’ and ‘woman.’ Just us. What’s going on?”

“I ate the goddamned fruit,” she screamed. “There! You’ve got it.”

Adam took a deep breath. He knew the next thing he would say was crucial. “So that’s why you feel bad?”

“No!” she said emphatically. “I feel good! Alive! Alert. Just confused. Maybe if you ate the fruit with me and shared in the experience we could work it out together. Aren’t you self-conscious about being naked?”

“Actually,” he replied, “I’m baffled about the concept. I just thought this is the way we came.”

She sighed, frowned, hissed and grumbled all at the same time. At length she spoke.

“So are you gonna eat the fruit with me or not?”

He took her by the shoulders, pulled her close and kissed her on the forehead.

“No. What we’re going to do is take you to our Creator and explain what happened.”

She pulled back in horror. “No damn way! He’s gonna kill me. Isn’t that what He said? If you eat the fruit you’ll die?”

“Yes,” said Adam. “But I didn’t know what it meant, so I just kind of ignored it.”

“I don’t want to die,” said Eve.

“I don’t want to lose you,” said Adam. “But … I don’t want to lose Him either. Don’t make me choose.”

She burst into tears. He embraced her and held her close.

“Listen,” he said. “If He loved us enough to make us, He sure can love us enough to forgive us.”

“Us?” she questioned.

“Yes. We’re in this together. And together, let’s go talk to Him.”

 

The producers of jonathots would humbly request a yearly subscription donation of $10 for this wonderful, inspirational opportunity

 

The Sermon on the Mount in music and story. Click the mountain!

 

Click here to get info on the “Gospel According to Common Sense” Tour

Please contact Jonathan’s agent, Jackie Barnett, at (615) 481-1474, for information about scheduling SpiriTed in 2014.

Click here to listen to Spirited music