PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant … June 20th, 2018

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(3709)

Fly Girl

by Jonathan Richard Cring

I want to apologize to you

For feeling so sorry for me

It’s just that everything is new

Not used to being free

 

Do I enjoy feeling pain

So I can nurse the sore?

Flirting with a hurtful insane

Sitting in the dark on the floor

 

Do I understand I was wrong

Remember the twist in my mind?

I finally feel like I belong

With a heart, generous and kind

 

My hands are strong

My mind is clear

It took so long

To calm my fear

 

Yet I yearn for grace once again

Embarrassed to feel so weak

At the mercy of my lingering sin

Still inheriting with the meek

 

As a girl I dreamed of flying

Across the sky, crystal blue

Lying, sighing, trying and crying

A seeker without a clue

 

Lord, give me wings like a bird

So I can finally see

The beauty of your heart and word

And all your love for me

 

Fly… fly… fly

Try… try… try

Fly girl.

Our guest reader is Angy, entrepreneur, wife, mother of two daughters, from Fort Lauderdale, Florida

 

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Populie: We’re Only Human… November 26, 2014

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(2425)

animal man

A mite of monkey

A little lion

A bit of bird

A teaspoon of turtle

A cup of camel

A dab of dog

A pinch of perch

And a dash of dinosaur.

Human beings. That’s who we are.

We are the storage warehouse–the culmination of all evolution–and the art museum for the Creator’s masterpieces.

Yet “we’re human” is used as an excuse instead of a motivation.

Politics loves the populie, “we’re only human,” because it provides an adequate excuse for the latest scandal.

Entertainment extols the virtue of our limitations so as to look on the darker side of our appetites, providing for a more venial outlook on our progress as a species.

And of course, religion feels the need to make us look as weak as possible in an attempt to maintain the strength of the Almighty.

We get sucked up in it.

We begin to believe that we are just part of the animal kingdom, even though Jesus jokingly, tongue in cheek, told the disciples they were worth “many sparrows.”

If we do gain a moment’s breath of spirituality, we’re encouraged to seek false humility in our attempt to worship God instead of seeking the “Christ in us,” which is the hope of glorious things happening.

Here are three things about human beings. I would ask you to place them deep in your memory banks and make sure, the next time you’re feeling sorry for yourself, that you recall these ample axioms:

1. We are created in God’s image.

If you’re an atheist, you are still aware that going into business with what you perceive to be your nearest relative, the chimpanzee, would certainly make for a failed project. We are unique by creation. If you do not believe in such a thing, we at least are unique by design.

2. We can feel, pray, think and do our way into or out of any difficulty.

There is no other species which has ever lived on earth with that quartet of possibilities.

3. We can choose to love.

Other animals mate, have bonds, maintain connections through offspring, but never really get the choice of loving.

These three things, combined, grant us an inner aura of divine nature, which can either be tapped or drained. The choice is yours.

But do not allow yourself to become part of a culture which, in an attempt to do away with God and personal responsibility, degrades the human being down to the level of porpoise instead of uplifting us to purpose. 

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12:37 A.M. … June 30, 2014

Jonathots Daily Blog

(2278)

bird at nightI awoke suddenly. Or is it better phrased, “I suddenly awoke?” Either way, it’s a little erroneous, isn’t it? It’s a little unlikely to gradually awake. We may decide to react to our new station of alertness at a snail’s pace, but once consciousness arrives, it’s here.

Setting all of that aside, though, let me explain why I was suddenly fully aware in the middle of the night.

I had to pee. A decision was necessary. Should I get up, walk to the bathroom and do my duty? Or roll over and dream of peeing–which is always fairly dangerous.

I chose to put my feet on the ground and make the journey. Returning from the excursion, I laid down and immediately realized it would be a while before sleep overtook me. So I decided to enjoy the solitude and the silence.

And it was very quiet.

Except for one single bird perched outside my window, singing at the top of its little lungs. It was so bizarre. It wasn’t a duet or a barbershop foursome and certainly not a chancel choir, just a single soloist pounding away, a tune which I could only assume was an aviary version of “We Are the Champions.”

What was this bird doing up so late? Or was he just confused and starting early?

Unfortunately, once I became obsessed with listening to the bird, it was the only thing I could hear. And then my brain latched onto it, refusing to relieve me of the tedium and repetition of the refrain.

At length I had an idea. Since it was just me, alone in the room, and no one else would need to know, I got this energizing, private, whimsical idea of asking God to share His presence and proof of His existence by silencing the bird.

I know it sounds stupid, but keep in mind–it was the middle of the night. After all, I can understand why God wouldn’t want to speak to me as I walk through the mall, to the shock and awe of other patrons. But why not reinforce my faith by nudging a tiny miracle in my direction–quieting this “gale” in the middle of the night, giving me a chill down my spine over the beauty of heavenly possibilities?

So I prayed. I asked God to still my little singing friend.

Nothing changed.

I am a little bit ashamed to admit that I was disappointed. And then the true voice within me spoke–that internal sense of communication that tries to create lines of conversation between my heart, my soul, my mind and my strength.

  • Abraham Lincoln referred to it as “the angels of our better nature.”
  • Jefferson knew it as the “truths that are self-evident.”
  • Beethoven probably acknowledged it as the muse that created the music.
  • And Moses believed it to be a burning bush that was not consumed.

Saint or sinner, we all hear a piping within our breast, which sounds a lot like our own voice, but often offers contrary opinions to our will.

So this little conscience of mine asked me why I was so disappointed. My response was that I wasn’t asking for much.

“Exactly,” came the reply. “Think of it from my perspective. I am the Lord your God, the source for all of your belief, and you want me to covenant with you, creating an intimate back-and-forth whispering campaign, and you don’t ask me for world peace or the location of the Holy Grail or even the healing of the body of a friend–your cosmic wish is for Me to silence the good intentions and joy of a little bird.”

I mused for a moment and then smiled. I chuckled, realizing that I could not be trusted with such intimate sharing.

Monday morning smack-down.

 

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Arizona morning

After an appearance earlier this year in Surprise, Arizona, Janet and I were blessed to receive a “surprise” ourselves. Click on the beautiful Arizona picture above to share it with us!

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Quatrain of the Bird… November 5, 2013

Jonathots Daily Blog

(2058)

bird

In the sky

I can fly

Don’t know why

Sure beats strollin’.

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Published in: on November 5, 2013 at 1:21 pm  Leave a Comment  
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Why Homing, Part 2… September 1, 2013

Jonathots Daily Blog

(1993)

bird out of nestIt’s never an easy day.

Whether it’s the bird in the nest, the lion in the pride or the crow in the murder, any time the offspring is moved from its location with family into the surrounding world, it certainly is frightening. Yet every species of the animal kingdom faithfully execute this ritual with precision absent misgiving … except humans.

And truthfully, we’ve gotten worse at it:

  • In the days of Judaism, a boy became a man at thirteen.
  • In the Old West, a child was either married or given a gun to hunt for his family at sixteen.
  • Move into the last century, and eighteen was considered the time to escape the rigors of the household and find your place.

Now we have people living in their home with their mother and father into their twenties and even some into their thirties.

Everybody jerks a few tears when they hear a story about people “stickin’ up for family” or “lovin’ their family,” or the phrase, “there’s nothin’ better than family.” But sooner or later we have to have a line of demarcation so that our children can become the next generation of adults, or else their procreation will not be parented well. Then, within three generations, we will have such a confusion of responsibility and role-playing that we won’t know who the parents are and who the children are.

So the time you spend with family should be a discovery of the artist, the soul, the thinker and the worker. And when you finally do get out into the wide open spaces, you will look for those individuals who carry the attributes which have been of value to your life.

It will make it easier to build friendships and long-lasting partnerships if you are free of suspicion and are not prejudiced against any one of the four, contending that one is supreme over the others.

  • Yes, if your parents teach you that it’s important to be a thinker, you may deny the value of the artist, reject spirituality and assume that others will do the work based upon your great discoveries in thought.
  • Likewise, workers can feel they are superior by sheer sweat.
  • An artist can act like a diva because he or she does not understand the pure gold of hard work.
  • And a spiritual person can totally ignore the advances of science and reject the beauty of entertainment and creativity.

If you teach your children to be balanced–to recognize the need for the artist, the soul, the thinker and the worker within the family structure–when they do leave the nest, they will easily find others who enrich their lives.

As Jesus said so beautifully, “My mother, my brother and my sister are those who do the will of my Father.”

Exactly. Family is everywhere.

May we all have the heart of an artist, the soul of a giver, the brain of a thinker and the will power of a worker–just enough to give us a balance so we can appreciate those human beings around us who teach us better ways to perform our duties.

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Jesus Was a Communist… June 24, 2012

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Jesus was a communist.

I know that’s quite a shocking opening statement. I was equally as surprised as I perused the Gospel accounts and realized that Jesus traveled with his disciples, living off the land and sharing all things in common. Thus, a communist.

Upon additional research, I realized that my first assertion of a Communist Jesus was totally erroneous. As it turns out, Jesus is a capitalist. For he said, “He that has shall more be given, and he that has not, even the little he has shall be taken away from him.” Capitalism.

I also discovered through my readings that Jesus would be very upsetting to the NRA, because he was anti-gun, proclaiming that “they that live by the sword shall die by the sword.”

Yet ironically, he did support the troops, because he praised the Centurion who was in charge of one hundred Roman Legionnaires, by saying, “Never have I seen so great a faith—no, not in Israel.”

A bit befuddled, I pressed on with my project. Turns out that Jesus is in favor of gay rights. He said we should not judge, lest we all be judged, for “the measure that is measured out by us to others will be measured back to us.”

I was about to unveil this revelation to some acquaintances, when, with further perusal, I realized that Jesus was also in favor of the Defense of Marriage Act, and might even be a homophobe, because he explained to the Pharisees quite clearly that God made male and female and that from the beginning that this was called true marriage—“that a man should leave his mother and a woman leave her home, and the two would be one flesh.”

By this point, I was fully intrigued, yet a bit shocked when I uncovered that Jesus was an Anti-Semite. Speaking to the women of Jerusalem on the day of his crucifixion, he told them that their “house was left to them desolate.”

So imagine how perplexed I was when I also read that he was a Zionist. Giving a partial rebuke to a Syro-phoenician foreigner, he told her it was not good to “give the children’s bread to the dogs.” That’s right—he called her a “Gentile dog.”

Now my curiosity was really piqued, so I started reading indiscriminately, trying to keep an open mind.

Jesus was a party animal. People referred to him as a “wine-bibber, a glutton and a friend of sinners.” Yet, bewildering, he was also a “refrainer.” For after all, he went into the wilderness and fasted for forty days and forty nights, and was hungry.

I then ascertained that Jesus HAD to be a Republican, because he bluntly said that “every good tree brings forth good fruit and every evil tree brings forth evil fruit.” So I was about to make my proclamation on the political nature of his message, when I determined that he was a Democrat, because he strongly believed in the separation of church and state.Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar’s and unto God the things that are God’s.”

I then realized that some women might find him to be a chauvinist, because arriving at a well in Samaria, he ordered a woman to bring him something to drink. But this was quickly dispelled by viewing the narrative about the day of his resurrection, when he turned to Mary Magdalene and told her to go and tell the other disciples that he was risen from the dead. Yes. He made a woman his first apostle.

Did you know he was pro-life? He told the surrounding audience that if they “offended one of these little ones, it would be better that a millstone be hung around their neck and that they be cast into the sea.”

Of course, a case could be made that he was pro-choice. He said, “If your right eye offend you, pluck it out.” And we certainly know that some women would find an unwanted pregnancy much more disturbing than bad vision.

Was he a saint? Pontius Pilate, a completely neutral bystander, claimed that he found no fault in him.

Was he evil? The religious leaders claimed that he was “a sinner, a Galilean.”

I pressed on. With my additional readings, I discovered that he was a religionist. He advocated that we fast, that we pray, that we give alms, and even mentioned that we should continue our tithing. So you can imagine how I was a little bit astonished to comprehend that he was a revolutionary, standing toe-to-toe with the religious system. He told them that “he was the Lord of the Sabbath.”

A strong case could be made that Jesus was a humanist, for he told his followers that the”Kingdom of God was within them.” Yet, he did not leave out the presence and power of the Almighty, because he spoke clearly and said that “you should love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength.”

Did he favor men? Well, he did have twelve disciples, all circumcised. Yet you might have the inkling that his heart went out to women, because Mary Magdalene, Joanna and Susanna, members of his troupe, gave “of their substance” to make sure the work went on. (You’ve got to love contributors.)

Are you tired yet? Because honestly, I found out he was a liberal. Defending a woman caught in adultery, he turned to a gathered audience of those who assumed they were righteous and said, “Let he that hath no sin cast the first stone.”

Yet I have to tell you, he could just as easily have been a conservative. Because in his Sermon on the Mount, he warned his followers that “he had not come to destroy the Law, but to fulfill it—and not one jot or tittle of the Law would be cast aside until all was completed.”

Well, you can see—I’ve had quite a journey. But there were still a couple more that jumped out at me.

I had always believed that Jesus was forgiving, because even hanging from the cross, he insisted, “Father forgive them, for they know not what they do.” But also, he was a bit vindictive—because he warned that the individuals who did not stand with him were against him.

An environmentalist? Well, certainly a case can be made, because he said that “not one sparrow falls from the sky without God being fully aware of the loss.” But also a pragmatist, because he claimed that nature is fickle and unpredictable, with “the rain falling on the just and the unjust.”

So finally I asked myself the supreme question. Was he a savior? He made it clear that he laid down his life and it wasn’t taken from him. But you have to ask yourself whether he was perhaps a victim, because in the Garden of Gethsemane, he prayed in great anguish, “Father, let this cup pass from me.”

I finished my pursuit of finding the true nature of who Jesus was. And I ended up, as you see, with so many representations that it is no wonder why we have denominations aplenty, and nearly incomprehensible that we don’t have more.

Jesus can be just about whoever you want him to be. That is why over the years he has become the champion for many causes, some noble and others destructive. So my dear friends, how do we know who he really is? How do we know the best way to represent him? It didn’t take much more investigative reporting on my part to come up with a very simple outline—a prism, if you will—which we shine the light of Jesus through to determine his true colors. Because he makes it clear on three occasions why he came to this earth:

1.”I have come give you life and it more abundantly.”

2.”I have come that your joy might be full.”

3.”I have come to show you the Father.”

So as I looked over my thirty-two insights on the life of Jesus based upon fragments of his filibustering, I passed them through the acid test of these three obvious callings.

I decided not to teach anything that did not bring life to people in abundance.

No matter how many times it is shouted, I will not take partial theology to teach anything that does not encourage full joy.

And finally, it is ridiculous to pursue any path that does not show us a glimpse of God the Father.

  • Full joy.
  • Abundant life.
  • Revelation of the Father.

It’s what human beings need.  Therefore, it’s what Jesus is.

   

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Entertaining the Monster… June 23, 2012

(1,555)

The monster never leaves.

He remains.

He festers.

He alternates between a domineering profile of supremacy and a whiny fussiness of oppression. He is looking for reasons to be offended. He, himself, offends.

He fears silence. He abhors contemplation. He resists the instinct to worship. He likes things to be noisy. He relishes clutter. He enters a room suspicious of all in attendance, wondering when his perfection will be acknowledged.

He has a memory with no conscience. He has a passion with no desire. He is looking for diversion from what he has not yet determined to be unworthy.

He fears reflection. He mocks repentance. He giggles over the notion of insufficiency. He is not to be reasoned with.

He demands to be entertained.

But sometimes …

Yes, every once in a while, I am able to devise a plan to fool the monster. I step out of my lodging, stride to my van and drive to a nearby park, where I sit on a bench, mulling. The monster is appeased because he thinks we have come to bask in self-pity. He believes we will recite the lines from a script which foretells a betrayal which will leave us bereft. He has prepared for consolation.

But you see, I have private plans. I had a meeting with my own soul, without inviting the monster. I sit in silence.

The monster is disquieted by my choice, but still feels confident that self-pity will soon raise waves of resentment, which will produce tears of anger, ending in childish tantrums.

But instead … I listen. In the midst of gaining solitude, I hear the song of one single bird, high above me in the tree. I concentrate on the bird’s ongoing song. Peace settles in my spirit. I consider the sparrow.

bird at piano lesson with rock

bird at piano lesson with rock (Photo credit: Terry Bain)

I listen to its melody.

Suddenly I am aware of my own inadequacy. My monster is desperate to acquire my attention. He tries to distract me with other sounds, other dangers, other diversions. I resist.

I stay focused on the song of the bird. In no time at all, I am given a window to my own sanctuary and peer at my treasure. And then, there before me–is my own heart. It is divided. It is sliced betwixt the truth of my need and the lies of the monster.

I retrieve the truth. It’s really not that painful, because in the midst of admitting the facts of my life, I am granted freedom through the choice. All at once I am exhilarated by my discoveries.

The monster is enraged by my pursuits, having been thrust to the back of my consciousness, locked in a closet unto himself. I have such a great assurance of peace in my soul that I feel like I can speak aloud to God–and there is that amazing chance that He might just speak back.

What a sensation.

I spend ten minutes on that bench with myself, temporarily freed of my monster. I don’t want to leave. I would love to believe that my adversary is gone forever, locked in the tombs of my past. But I know that as soon as I leave the bench and drive away from the park, the monster will gradually emerge from the shadows–sheepishly at first, acting a bit surprised that I ever deemed him an enemy. He will try to wiggle his way back into my thinking and will take the everyday disappointments and attempt to turn them into signs of the apocalypse.

I will resist him. I will recognize his hovering presence as being anything but protective. I will outsmart him again.

The monster lives. The monster breathes, being granted life by traditions and apprehensions. He seeks entertainment. He wants me to escape into the world, where I lose sight of gaining my own soul.

He wants me to hate. He wishes that I would call that emotion “discretion.” He is devious. He is part of me.

I fooled the monster today. I spent some time with a bird, my own reflections, talking to the Kingdom of God within me, uncovering repentance. The monster is a little weaker.

The monster craves entertainment, like an addict on the second day of rehab. I will attempt to refuse his demands. I will persever in controlling my monster. But it all begins by never forgetting that he is there.

Yes, knowing he’s there … but not giving it a single care.

   

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