Jonathots … January 8th, 2019

 


Jonathots Daily Blog

(3919)

handbook for touching

 And when I touch you

I feel happy inside

It’s such a feeling

That my love

I can’t hide

55 years ago, two young men from England wrote a song which is hands down the best hands-on song ever written about holding hands.

It was called “I Wanna Hold Your Hand.”

Although most parents felt it was an innocuous request, there is actually very little in life that is more sensual than holding hands. It has caused many a young man to break out in a sweat, wondering when it was appropriate to reach over and join palms and fingers with his date, only to discover that she, too, was sweating and extremely anxious.

Holding hands is when my “toucher” touches your “toucher,” ending up with a touching experience.

There is nothing quite like it. It is underestimated.

In great drama, when empathy, sympathy, compassion, tenderness or romance is being expressed, often the beginning of the scene is notated: “And he took her hand…”

That feeling of flesh upon flesh, knowing that it is a willful action, is intoxicating.

It’s why we sit by a fire in a forest singing songs, and when it becomes particularly meaningful, we join hands.

It’s often the way we choose to pray.

It is the bedside manner of a good doctor, conveying to a patient his confidence that “everything is going to be all right.”

In a world where we’ve become more and more concerned about germs and spreading viruses, we find ourselves doing less and less hand-holding. Matter of fact, there are those who make fun of it, suggesting that it’s anemic—a mere “hand-holding exchange.”

But 55 years ago, John and Paul were right when they clearly stated that when we touch someone, we do feel happy inside.

 

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Confessing … September 5th, 2015

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(2683)

XVIII.

I confess so I can heal.

If I deny, I remain sick.

She was married and so was I–but not to each other.

She loved my mind.

I, hers.

We were connected in heart and soul.

From the first day, she sat and listened to my compositions, and I told her I wanted to record them and put them out, while starting my own music group to travel the country, sharing.

She was there.

She signed up.

For eight years, she stayed devoted to the dream as we crossed the nation, appeared on the PTL Club, the stage of the Grand Ole Opry, recorded at Johnny Cash’s studio, and even, in some cities, hit the gospel music charts.

We were close.

She was happy.

I wanted more.

I misinterpreted her consecration and faith in me for romance. I pushed. She pulled back, so I pushed some more.

She didn’t want to lose our friendship and mission, so she would occasionally give in to some awkward situations. Yes, she pretended to be interested.

She wasn’t.

I knew it.

This sometimes made me fussy and mean. We argued.

I turned something spiritual into a carnal nightmare. We never did anything. Honestly, if she had opened up to the boy-girl thing, I probably would have run like a frightened school child. She tried to reason with me.

Then her husband had an affair. She was broken and anguished. They divorced.

But rather than being a friend to her, I was just another source of conflict. She thought about dating, and because we were such good friends she asked me about it, but I discouraged her because of my raging jealousy.

She was so unhappy.But she still stayed as long as she could because she loved the music.

I drove her away–and when she left, she felt like we couldn’t be friends anymore without errupting the volcano of dissatisfaction.

We should have great memories.

We should be contacting each other frequently with updates on our lives.

But you see, I wasn’t happy with mere happiness. I wanted a “more” that I couldn’t explain but still tried to pursue.

I was young, foolish and self-centered.

I am sorry.

I had her full love, deep respect and tremendous honor–and lost it in pursuit of her flesh.

Love isn’t crazy.

I am crazy to have lost a living love … for the prospect of a temporary connection.

 

Confressing red microphone

 

 

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Jesonian: The Jesus Factor … June 8, 2014

Jonathots Daily Blog

(2258)

It’s not that I’m intolerant or spiritually bigoted; it’s just that I don’t think I could believe in God if it weren’t for Jesus.notebook

  • Jehovah strikes me as a bit fussy.
  • Allah is too particular for my taste.
  • The gods of Olympus are pretentious.
  • Buddha offers an enlightened path–yet I need more.
  • Confucius says a lot of things.
  • Shinto offers possible doings.
  • And candidly, I get lost somewhere in the thousand deities of the Hindi.

So when I sit around in discussions, and people begin to explain how all the religions of the world get chopped up and put into a blender to make a pious “smoothie,” I quietly retreat and allow them their amalgamation while I pursue my simple friendship.

Even though somewhere along the line, Christianity has relegated the person of Jesus to the status of Savior and Coming King, I still have the magnificent words of his traveling companion and best buddy, John, who told me, with great certainty, that the Word became Flesh and dwelled among us.

Yes, it’s important to know that Jesus is a word. He is not merely the culmination of ancient Jewish prophesy, but instead, came to fulfill and complete wisdom through his philosophy. There is much I read in the Old Testament and Koran which are not earth-friendly. They are not people-considerate. But in the mind of Jesus, I find a will that can be done on earth as it’s also equally achieved in heaven.

Trying to preach Jesus without talking about the essence of his ideas and impetus of his teachings is merely promoting Judaism with a silent Messiah.

He wasn’t only the word, though. He was made flesh. My journey in finding the Jesus Factor demands that I discover his humanity. If his only purpose for donning a human body was to be sacrificed for our sins, then certainly that could have been achieved by allowing King Herod to murder the infant Christ. But instead, he lived thirty years as a family man and three years as the voice of the people. That’s worth studying, don’t you think?

And not only did the word become flesh, but he dwelled among us.

Yes, it’s my job to find Jesus’ spirit. I’m encouraged in that quest by being told that the same spirit that occupied him can fill my heart. I am also told that he gave us all the power to become the sons of God.

It’s rather ironic that a Christianity that cuddles up too closely to other religions loses the most significant portion of its appeal–Jesus.

I am not looking for a God to believe in so I can separate myself from the rest of the people on earth. I want a God to believe in so I have a reason to enjoy, understand, appreciate, tolerate and embrace my other brothers and sisters.

Jesus gives me that.

Could I do it without him? I would find it difficult to find an ancestor or historical figure who had the compassion, insight, earth-savvy and eternal focus that I find in his person.

It is the Jesus Factor.

He is the word–so I will find his philosophy.

He became flesh–so I will find his humanity.

And he dwelled among us–I will find his spirit.

It is what I call Jesonian.

I can recommend it. Or you can feel free, with my love and blessing, to pursue your favorite blending.

 

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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!

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

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

Click here to listen to Spirited music

 

 

Jesus and Me … September 8, 2013 Number 2000

Jonathots Daily Blog

 Calvary

Jesus and me are going to Flint

Jesus is mighty smart

Me is trying to learn

Jesus is looking for people who care

Me is working on trying not to be careless

Jesus loves everybody

Me likes most

Jesus wants to save the lost

Me is struggling to keep from getting lost

Jesus demands repentance

Me needs some of that of my own

Jesus pursues the least

Me still favors the most

Jesus is willing to die for the world

Me  wants to live a little bit longer

Jesus doesn’t worry very much

Me doesn’t need much to worry

Jesus knows the hearts of people

Me does a lot of guessing

Jesus believes in good cheer

Me likes to joke

Jesus knows Flint has struggled

Me understands struggle

Jesus made the lame to walk

Me walks a little lame

Jesus is coming again

Me is leaving sooner or later

Jesus was human

Me, too

Jesus was tempted

Me, daily

Jesus was touched by sickness

Me, just last week

Jesus will appear in Flint through Spirit

Me will show up in the flesh: lots of it

Flint, I wish I could offer you more

But for now you are stuck with me …

This troubadour

 

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Du Quoin in a Fountain … June 12, 2013

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Ducoin stageBurned.

Burned out.

I once was beckoned to a burn ward in a hospital to see a young man who needed prayer because he had been scorched severely in a fire. I had never experienced such devastation. There were five youngsters on the floor, all injured beyond human recognition. The parents, when they heard there was someone on the floor willing to pray, beckoned me to the bedside of their child. The grotesque features, the pain, the anguish and the doom that hung in the air was almost incomprehensible and nearly unbearable.

I felt no need to be glib. The poetry of prayer escaped me. My tears became the ointment of hope–that these children might have a chance. Each one had lost a battle with fire.

But my dear friends, every time I walk on a stage and look into the faces of the audience, I see the same anguish. The American public is burned. We are burned by the fires of a raging debate that seems to have no end, which slices its way through our society, minus resolution. We are burned by viciousness, racism and religious bigotry, touting that “our God is bigger than your God.”

We are scorched by political rhetoric rattling on with meaningless statistics, promoting its unending agenda with no regard for the immediate needs of humanity.

So because our nation is burned,  we must be careful not to use fiery words to ignite great ideas.

  • We need to stop preaching. It’s too pushy. Even teaching can be condescending.
  • We are incapable of debate without division.
  • We seem to be unable to talk about God and promote His love more than His judgment.
  • We take the beauty of man and woman–the sexual pleasure they can achieve together and the companionship manifested–and turn it into a running joke on how the sexes are incapable of communication.
  • We set ideals, our goals and our lives on fire with a series of ridiculous arguments which never promote inner peace and are only set ablaze to initiate our superiority.

I am coming into a burn ward and it is my nation. It seems to be up to me to bring the salves and the pain killers necessary to promote healing instead of continuing to do more damage to the flesh, blood, spirits and hearts of my fellow-citizens. But you see, once you’ve been burned, the last thing you want is to be touched. Your life is a living nightmare–a reminder of the horrible incident that has disfigured you.

It’s going to take patience, gentleness and reasonability to actually bring about a ministering force to our people. It is not an issue of marching, protesting, fussing, arguing or even lobbying. It’s finding the next person who’s been burned by the fires of a national indignation–and to sooth the wounds.Ducoin corn

I’ve inserted a picture of a field which has already been harvested and now the remaining stems merely dry out in the sun. I was drawn to the scene because it reminds me so much of our country. We have harvested a great bounty of freedom and progress, but now the dried stems stick out of the ground and no one has the mercy to plow them under and prepare new seed for the earth–gently, please. But we must take all the dead stalks which are protruding from the ground and inter them in the earth, making room for new seed and a new crop of possibility.

The other picture is of my set, which I used as  a healing station last night with the folks in Sunfield, near Du Quoin, Illinois.

It’s what I’ve got. It’s small and to some may seem insignificant. But from that tiny operating room, I plan on promoting healing. Gone are the fiery sermons, replaced with the water of the Word, dousing all the heated rage.

It’s the least we can do.

By the way, I found out later that three of the five young people in that burn ward died.  It hurt me deep in my soul. But it also let me know that it’s important to keep the fire away from human beings if you can bring the water.

I will bring the water again to the folks in Sunfield this evening. I can only hope that those who’ve been burned by the inferno of a careless society misusing its book of matches will come out … to be soothed.

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 Jonathots, Jr.!

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Twain … February 28, 2013

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And the two shall be one flesh …

Words describing relationship and marriage.

Actually, that’s the easy part–skin to skin, tissue to tissue, body to body. That comes naturally–so naturally to our species that we can perform it multiple times with different partners without too much difficulty.

What we have trouble with is the process of becoming one in the other three parts of our being–heart, soul and mind. It is further complicated by a culture which greatly emphasizes sexuality as a primary ingredient in marriage while setting a temperature and climate for interaction between the sexes to be frigid.

It’s a mixed signal. We are told that marriage is so sacred that it dare not be redefined. Yet we are constantly changing the definition of the roles of men and women and the playground rules by which they interact. It is rather difficult to believe that a man and woman riding across the United States in a Conestoga wagon in 1872 were actually having lengthy discussions about how different they were. In that particular environment, difference was their enemy and finding commonality was their only salvation.

The last remnants of chauvinism in our society exist in the manipulation of facts concerning the discourse, conversation and lifestyles between men and women. For after all, there are two ways to keep women in subjection and men in dominance: you can dress the women in dark clothes and make them cover their faces or you can pretend that they are just so beyond comprehension that it’s really not worth the time to fuss about it.

When Adam decided he wanted Eve, God relented. God called them BOTH Adam and established them in equality. It was at that point that they decided to create emotional, spiritual and mental chasms between each other while still enjoying one another’s flesh.

It just doesn’t work.

If the primary relationship in your life is an attempt to disguise your true feelings so as to maintain peace and quiet, then the most important thing you’re doing is a failure. Is it possible that society could be completely wrong on an issue and that we’re merely waiting for someone to come along and expose it for its inadequacy?

Of course.

Historically, society has been perniciously erred. Why? Because if you get enough people to say something loud enough and often enough, it starts sounding like the truth. It isn’t. It’s just overwhelming.

So what makes up a good relationship? What would truly make marriage sacred instead of a moody throw-away? How do we find what was originally intended in the Garden of Eden? How can we climb up into that Conestoga wagon and gain insight into the community that was created between a husband and wife on such a precarious mission, and still maintain our I-phones and I-pads?

There is a way to be twain (two) and still be one person with one mind.

Let’s talk about it tomorrow.

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