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They used to call it recess.
It was a fifteen-minute period when they allowed the students to escape the classroom and roam the playground, finding ways to entertain themselves and stretch their muscles before returning to the confinement of the educational system. It was also an opportunity to learn what your classmates were really like.
For some of them turned out to be juvies (short for juvenile delinquents). These were individuals who had decided to rebel against all forms of authority and who believed that Mom and Dad basically sucked.
Others were brats. These were children who were normally a little prissy and favored one parent over another. They explained to you that “my mom’s okay but my daddy’s mean.” Or “Daddy’s really smart but my mom’s a witch.”
A third group consisted of brown-nosers. These were kids who were kind of juvies AND brats, but had found a way to manipulate Mommy and Daddy to do anything they wanted because they APPEARED to be obedient. They weren’t.
Now, the reason I bring this up to you on this beautiful Earth Day is that the playground really doesn’t stop as we graduate from the school system into the life system. Juvies grow up to be atheists, agnostics or really unbelieving church-goers who don’t have faith in God and have no respect for Mother Nature. That’s right–they decry and deny both Father and Mother. They seem to find self-sufficiency in insufficiency. The times when they enjoy themselves the most are when they’re complaining about their lot being “the least.”
Meanwhile, the brats grow up and continue their brattiness by either preferring Father God–becoming very religious and self-righteous–or Mother Earth, favoring camping, pine trees, crystal-blue lakes and listening to lengthy renditions of Thoreau‘s Walden‘s Pond.
Of course, you probably have jumped ahead to think about the brown-nosers. These are the children who reach adulthood but continue being childish, believing if they do a few basic things to please Mother Nature and Father God, that they should get everything they want. They are disappointed and disillusioned because they fail to realize that they’re disconnected.
There doesn’t seem to be a whole lot of folks who understand the balance. We’re not supposed to be juvies. Mother Earth and Father God don’t suck–they simply work in unison. Once you understand that, it’s easier to sing along.
We don’t get anywhere being a brat–believing in God but hating the earth, or loving Mother Nature but speaking evil of her companion, the Father in heaven.
And people who just brown-nose or give lip service–kissing from the rear to gain frontal approval–are at odds with the world around them because their shenanigans and fake feelings always play out and become obvious.
Good news. There is a fourth group. In my day and age on the playground, we refered to them as “coolios.” These were the young humans who “got it.” It isn’t that you have to agree with your mother and father all the time–it’s just that you have to trust them enough to be honest, forming your complaint into a question in order to learn how things really work instead of just rebelling, ignoring or faking it.
For instance, I will not worship any God who is not open to Q and A. I am not interested in revering nature–when nature wants me to worship God. My job as a smart child of the earth is to trust my father and mother enough to ask questions when I don’t understand, instead of assuming that I am all-knowing or that they’re really unfair.
Do you want to give a present to earth on this Earth Day? Stop being a juvie, thinking that Mother Earth and Father God suck. You might want to give up the brattiness of favoring one over the other. And don’t think you’re going to brown-nose your way into finding God’s approval or Mother’s blessing.
It’s time to turn into a coolio. Trust your Father in heaven enough to ask the questions that are on your heart and to learn how Mother Earth really works so you can stay in step with the household.
Now that would make a great Earth Day. That would create the fulfillment of the prayer that says:
“Thy will be done on earth (Mother) as it is in heaven (Father).”
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Below is the first chapter of Jonathan Richard Cring’s stunning novel entitled Preparing a Place for Myself—the story of a journey after death. It is a delicious blend of theology and science fiction that will inspire and entertain. I thought you might enjoy reading it. After you do, if you would like to read the book in its entirety, please click on the link below and go to our tour store. The book is being offered at the special price of $4.99 plus $3.99 shipping–a total of $8.98. Enjoy.
http://www.janethan.com/tour_store.htm
Sitting One
I died today.
I didn’t expect it to happen. Then again, I did—well, not really.
No, I certainly didn’t expect it.
I’ve had moments of clarity in my life. Amazingly enough, many of them were in the midst of a dream. For a brief second I would know the meaning of life or the missing treatment to cure cancer. And then as quickly as it popped into my mind it was gone. I really don’t recollect dying. Just this unbelievable sense of clear headedness—like walking into a room newly painted and knowing by the odor and brightness that the color on the wall is so splattering new that you should be careful not to touch it for fear of smearing the design. The greatest revelation of all?
Twenty-five miles in the sky time ceases to exist.
The planet Pluto takes two hundred and forty-eight years to circle the sun. It doesn’t give a damn.
The day of my death was the day I became free of the only burden I really ever had. TIME.
Useless.
Time is fussy. Time is worry.
Time is fear. Time is the culprit causing human-types to recoil from pending generosity.
There just was never enough time.
Time would not allow it. Remember—“if time permits …”
Why if time permits? Why not if I permit? Why not if I dream? Why not if I want? Why does time get to dictate to me my passage?
It was time that robbed me of my soulful nature. It was time that convinced me that my selfishness was needed.
I didn’t die. The clock in me died, leaving spirit to tick on.
So why don’t we see the farce of time? Why do we allow ourselves to fall under the power of the cruel despot? Yes, time is a relentless master—very little wage for much demand.
I died today.
Actually … a piece of time named after me was cast away.
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We have only one major responsibility to ourselves and others: to be alert.
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