G-33: Propheting… July 18, 2014

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(2295)

• Billowing smoke at the crest of a mountain leaves things a bit hazy.
• Tablets of stone are pretty concrete.
• The heads of Amorites posted on sticks are not terribly inspiring, but actually, gross.
• Butchered animals burnt on an altar of worship end up quite smelly.

The Creator needed a more creative idea to reach His creation.

For symbolism may have its charm, but after all, it demands that the person being attracted to the concept have both an interest and some intelligence. And here’s the rub: interest and intelligence are unusual commodities in the human race. We are people who require a more straightforward, human solution.

The Creator, the Father of al, decided to send prophets–human beings themselves and therefore capable of error and misstep, but also valuable because their mortal lips could convey an eternal message.

At first it seemed to be a workable idea. The people were alerted, impressed and even impacted.

But unfortunately, all prophets eventually have to speak unpopular ideas to cantankerous hearers.

So the life expectancy of a prophet dropped suddenly, leaving the job unpursued and frequently unfilled.

Still, it was a better way than killing turtle doves and terminating enemies in the path of the Ark of the Covenant.

“I will have mercy, not sacrifice,” said one of the prophets. Yet the people insisted on killing off livestock.

“I desire to repair the breach.” But people continued to fight instead of searching out reasons for peaceful coexistence.

“Be kind to strangers.” Unfortunately, strangers had little chance for acceptance among a people who deemed themselves chosen.

No matter what the prophets said, the people found fault and eventually realized that not listening to them levied no toll.

We were back once again to Creator and creature, standing at a distance, peering at one another suspiciously.

It was time to make a decision.

 

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G8: Sink or Swim … January 24, 2014

Jonathots Daily Blog

(2130)

I discovered that the correct term is “rip current.” In my innocence and ignorance I’ve always referred to it as “undertow.”

I only experienced it personally one time, while swimming in the Atlantic Ocean near Jacksonville Beach. It had taken me a couple of days to get up the courage to get into the water, because I had heard all the rumors about sharks and all sorts of foreign life forms swimming around you while you decided to play in the tide.

So gradually I inched my way deeper into the sea, when all at once I was propelled–not viciously, but certainly purposefully. I’d heard of the rip current, so I knew not to fight it, but I could not remember what to do to overcome it.

In just a matter of a few moments I found myself about two hundred and fifty yards from the shore, deposited in a shallow patch of water about six-and-a-half feet deep, where I was comfortable treading, but not standing.

My heart was racing. I was frightened. Land seemed so far away.

Yet the water around me was calm–actually rather peaceful. I experienced a strange sensation–I just wanted to stay there. Since I didn’t know how to get to shore anyway, and the surroundings were not threatening, my heart’s desire was to leave well enough alone and just float and stroke.

I don’t know how long I stayed in that position. What was really odd was that for a brief moment, I wished I could become a fish so I wouldn’t have to make any more decisions about saving myself. Just swim away to my new destiny.

I was at peace.

Yet it was an insecure sense of well-being, because obviously, I was not a fish, did not belong in the ocean and needed to swim away from my circumstance to evolve back into my real life.

I didn’t want to. Matter of fact, nobody even knew where I was. Nobody knew I was missing yet, and there was something comforting about the waves splashing against my shoulders as I moved my arms back and forth and bicycled with my legs to stay afloat.

I don’t know how much longer I would have remained in my indecision, but suddenly another human being swam up and asked if I was all right. I nodded, but in truth, I wasn’t.

I was afraid to change my situation, even though my position was detrimental and would eventually cost me my life. After all, there was nothing to eat, no drink and assuredly, exhaustion would overtake me and I would drown in six-and-a-half feet of water.

I listened as my rescuer explained how to swim through the undertow. I think he realized I was dazed, so he joined me on the journey to my real home. I was reluctant the whole way.

That is, until I got onto the sand, looked out at the billowing waves and realized how foolish I was to think that I belonged there.

Creation is necessary. To believe that everything around us appeared from nowhere would actually be the greatest step of faith that anyone, anywhere could ever muster.

Somebody created the foundations of the world. Likewise, evolution is obvious. No master designer would create a prototype and then not improve upon it with detail and subtleties.

We have one unique job in life–and that is to recognize that just because we’ve been deposited into a foreign environment and it feels welcoming, does not mean that we are to remain there.

We must evolve to where we can grow. I had no life in the haven of liquid. I just had temporary reassurance.

• My purpose was on land.
• I could only grow on land.
• I could only succeed on land.
• I could only be happy on land.

To achieve my next place of expansion, I had to swim–because without swimming, I would eventually sink.

What feels secure is rarely the answer. There’s a certain amount of swimming against the tide that is necessary in order for us to land … where we belong.

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