PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant … June 27th, 2018

 Jonathots Daily Blog

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Dawning of This Day

by Jonathan Richard Cring

My skin prickles when you speak

I am much more than a biological freak

I occupy Earth as a human being

More than what you insist on seeing

Barely beginning to reach my peak

 

I am blamed for Eden, a symbol of weakness

A delicate flower, the mother of meekness

Yet my body rallies to birth a new student

Teaching love, strength and all that is prudent

Taking time for the problems I address

 

I am not angry at men

I consider them my friends

I might curse the sky

To contradict the lie

Embracing “BE”–not what has been

 

Just listen to me, mister

I am your powerful sister

Ready to stop our struggle with two

Prepared to fight the battle with you

For I am the conscientious resister

 

It’s time to clear the way

To think before we say

Finding the power we generate together

Unite our might, birds of a feather

We shall meet at the dawning of this day.

This week’s guest reader is Anisa, who lives in Brentwood, Tennessee, with her husband, Matt

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The Rule of Croak … March 31, 2014

Jonathots Daily Blog  

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bullfrogIf you want to be effective, start affecting what you can affect–or become a freak by freaking out about what you consider freaky.

The rule of croak–it’s very simple:

If it goes on after I die, I will stop worrying about it while I live.

I have sons with wives and I have grandchildren. They have lives of their own and will do just fine after I escape this mortal portal. All that will be left of me is a memory, so I should be about the business of making memories.

I know it is popular to believe that life is hard. I suppose if you decide to complicate it by involving yourself in matters that do not directly pertain to your field of activity and scope of influence…well, perhaps it becomes twisted.

But it is elementary when you school yourself on your field of expertise and you know exactly what makes you unique to life as we know it.

  • My family will go on without me.
  • The Dow Jones will not lose a point upon hearing of my death.
  • CNN and FOX News will have no controversy concerning my demise.

What will be affected are my writings, my music, my traveling, my heart, my humor, my ideas, my wit, my whimsy, and probably my business partner, who’s been working with me for eighteen years and may notice for a season that the “oom-pah” of her life has lost some “oom.”

So since this is directly in my field of play, it is what I will pursue.

It reminds me of the time when someone asked me if I wanted to play hardball or softball. When I examined the two balls, I saw that both would be rather hard if they hit you. What makes softball more pleasing is that it is pitched your way underhanded, it’s slower and it’s bigger, and therefore easier to hit.

There you go.

The rule of croak is like the game of softball–finding the pitches that come your way, keeping your eye on that big ball and doing your best to hit it out of the park.

True pride and vanity is any notion that we have power, influence or even consideration in any matters other than those directly linked to us.

I reject that vanity.

So to my children, friends, the US government and the rest of Planet Earth, let me tell you that I will give you a blessing–and myself one as well:

I will stay out of your business unless I know I have something that will help, and I will focus on what I can do and keep doing it better and better … until I’m no longer allowed to hop around.

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I’m Really Not Sure… October 15, 2012

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Live from October 1st filming

I do believe that the Apostle Paul was mistaken.

He insisted that we do not wrestle against flesh and blood. Instead, he contended that the earthly journey is more or less we humans being stuck in a comic battle between good and evil. You’re welcome to agree with him if you so desire. I don’t.

My discovery of life on terra firma is that we are dealing with flesh and blood issues. Bluntly…us. Appetites, genetics, weaknesses, insecurities, frustrations, indignities, victories, defeats… and of course, worst of all…pernicious apathy.

For about fifteen years I’ve been struggling with leg and knee pain. There are times when it’s been worse than others, but for years, I have been the chooser of the closest parking space at the shopping mall.

I am not lazy. I have crisscrossed the country at least a dozen times, shared thousands of shows in front of tens of thousands of people and marched through airports to get to those destinations–most of the time, in some sort of pain. It’s a flesh and blood issue–and it happens to be mine.

Since January and the passing of my sixtieth birthday, the problem has settled in as a permanent occupant of my daily schedule. In the past two weeks it has gotten even worse than that. Finally, I found myself basically unable to walk–cramped up and with the dark notion that I was finished and would need to seek other ways to express my mission, my message and my heart.

You see, that’s more of that flesh and blood problem. It doesn’t matter how many times we have seen miracles, God move, or the universe tip a little bit to the right to our advantage. For some reason, we all tend to go a little dark whenever anything lands in our toy box and we don’t know exactly how to play with it.

Matter of fact, I was ready to cancel all of my dates last week and “nurse myself back to good health.” Can I tell you something truthfully? I have never gotten over any ailment by lying around. Even when I have a cold, I am better off getting up, moving and redistributing the mucus than I am by letting it settle into my chest, as I pretend to recuperate. I have sprained my ankle, iced it and rested it–but the first time I stepped down on it, it still felt sprained. I don’t know how long it would take to get better laying down on the job.

So I woke up in the middle of the night–early Thursday morning, actually–and realized that my calling is not to sit in a motel room, prop my feet up and lament not being able to go out and share. I decided to rent a wheelchair. I had no idea what I was doing.

I really wasn’t sure.

Now, some people, when they’re not sure, feel they have walked into a deep, dark cave and they’re frightened of the attack of blood-sucking bats. I don’t feel that way. Matter of fact, sometimes I think it’s impossible to know what you really have until you lose what you don’t need.

When I went to the church in Fremont on Sunday morning and was rolled in in my wheelchair, I was convinced that everybody in the world was turning his head to peer at the freak. Of course, nothing could be further from the truth. I have never been embraced, loved, assisted, confided in and included as part of a family the way I was yesterday. In both the church in Fremont and the church Sunday night, in Port Clinton, the folks rallied around me and helped me do whatever it is that I do–and never were they ashamed of my lacking.

I’m really not sure. You see what I mean? If I had not come to this crisis in my life, would I ever have set in motion a plan to try to rectify my chronic pain? Would I ever have gone on a food regimen again–now in my eighth day–which is already helping both my energy and my blood sugar? Would I ever have made myself vulnerable enough that my needfulness gave me the space for humanity to enter without apologizing for intruding? Would I ever have planned every step of my day so meticulously because I was learning my wheels?

I’m really not sure you can live a successful human life if hell is your fall guy and heaven is your only safe place. Sometimes the best way for God to love you is to allow you to reap the fruit of your labors–and see if you can’t grow out of your pain instead of just miraculously relieving it.

I’m driving to Indianapolis today. I feel absolutely great–except my legs just don’t want to balance and help me walk. I’m not sad; I am not looking for demons which have caused this interruption. And I certainly am not blaming God for failing to deliver my latest care package of grace.

What I am doing is stopping to realize that there is nothing happening to me right now that isn’t better than if I were still hobbling along, pretending I was all right, but wracked with pain.

  • How can God express His love if He’s not allowing circumstances to generate a better world for me?
  • How can God be God and not honor the principles of His own creation?
  • And how can God be God if the resolution to my situation is not improving my station?

It’s a powerful day, my friend.

I’m really not sure–and in the midst of that unsureness, I find the origins of my joy.

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

Culture Joys… April 19, 2012

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There were about a hundred people in the restaurant.

I was sitting there enjoying my dinner and the ambiance of the human simmering of conversation when I realized that Janet and I were the only two people of European extraction in the room. It was remarkable. It was actually quite wonderful.

Since arriving in California I have become more aware of culturalism–because California has done a great job to provide for us as a nation a human relief map of what our entire country will look like in thirty years. The United States should NEVER have been just white. After all, our whole concept was openness, acceptance and the encouragement of immigration.

But we started our segregating the Native Americans were to be segregated because…well, basically because they were in the way. We had some strange, abiding belief that black people picked cotton more easily than our white children. It might have been all right if we had treated our cotton pickers with some kindness, but apparently white supremacy goes deep into the genetic fabric of paler brothers and sisters. And when it wasn’t skin color it was nationality and when it wasn’t nationality it was religion and when it wasn’t religion it was gender and when it wasn’t gender it was sexual orientation and when it wasn’t sexual orientation, it has even come down to assessing people based on if they voted for Ronald Reagan.

Something had to come along and stop this–or God was going to sneeze and just blow us all away. May I be the first–or at least the second–to say there ARE no culture wars? There may be cultural ignorance, but it should be turned into culture joys. There is a giddiness that comes into the human heart when we finally abandon our childish prejudices to become true men and women of Planet Earth.

Last night I was delighted to perform in front of a Samoan congregation. Candidly, they stared at me a bit when they realized they had scheduled in someone of lesser-Island-experience. But it didn’t matter. By the time the evening was done, we were brothers and sisters. My only lament was that the Samoans love to eat, and since I have been on a limited food regimen of late, the temptations they offered on their banquet table after the presentation were nearly inescapable. But I was able to restrain and eat sensibly.

But back to the culture wars, which I will tell you should be the culture joys … if you’re getting sucked up into the hidden agendas of bigotry under the guise of immigration, entitlement programs and just general fussiness about human-kind, may I suggest that you consider this four-step process to turn your wars into joys? Last night, when I looked out at that audience, I thought to myself:

1. We share so much in common that it will be fun to explore our differences. It’s not the other way around–it’s not that we’re so different that we need to explore our commonalities. I have been with people of every culture, and the basic need for humor, heart, soul, thinking and nourishment is present within each.

2. NoOne is better than anyone else, which means NoOne is worse than anyone else. It also means that NoOne is more colorful than anyone else and includes that NoOne is smarter than anyone else, which certainly leads to NoOne is dumber than anyone else.

3. No teachers. All students. One of the more ridiculous aspects of culture wars is the notion that certain races of people have been given an advantage in arenas of life, and for that purpose they’ve been placed in the world to teach. It’s just ridiculous. We’re all students. The minute you start thinking that you’re a teacher of humanity, your sheer arrogance will forbid anyone from receiving your message. Just sitting down in front of those lovely folks and sharing my little dab of talent last night, I felt no need to be the boss or the brilliant of the night. I learned as much from them as they learned from me, because we were all in the classroom.

4.  And finally, understanding is something that people need to give to us–never anything we  can demand. I don’t know what the answer is to immigration, but I do know two things: (a) you can’t stop it; and (b) since you can’t stop it, find a way to make it profitable. It reminds me of the first person who looked at Niagara Falls and said, “We need to find a way to put that water to work.” The next thing you know, we got electricity.  You can either look at the immigration question and say, “We need to close our borders,” or you can say, “Since our borders are open, how can we channel this energy to make America more productive?”

Beware of those who believe in a culture war. There is no culture war–just a lot of people pushing and shoving to prove they’re supreme over one another. I have perched myself in California in the middle of a human smorgasbord–and brought my fork and spoon. I am prepared to be a part of the culture joys.

Because you can try to fight against nature, but Mother Nature always has a way of spanking her unruly children.

**************

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.

To Freak the Meek… April 18, 2012

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A philosophy is not a collection of ideas we would pursue if the world were a better place. A philosophy is a lifestyle we live because the world is NOT a better place.

The meek shall inherit the earth.” It is not a wish or a whim. The meek are those individuals who are left standing at the end of each and every day after the rest of the inhabitants of the planet ridicules, bloodies and murders one another. We proclaim we’re against bullying, yet we insist that aggressive behavior is rewarded with benefit.

Let’s get something straight. There are no human beings who are naturally passive. None. All of us have two festering fragments of fussiness rattling around in our brains all the time, ready to spew venom when given the exact amount of provocation. (a) “I don’t want you in my face;” and (b) “I don’t need you in my space.”

With that in mind, I am often amazed that there aren’t more fights, wars, deaths and destruction. The natural human being does show some restraint, however–otherwise there would just be a silent planet littered with corpses. So how can we change restraint into resolve? Restraint is what we do when we’re trying to be noble, biting our lip the whole time to keep from flying off the handle. Resolve is a secret we have which feeds us with the patience to know that our path will take us to success.

Christianity has failed because its basic principle of “love your neighbor as yourself” has now been traded back into the spiritual pawn shop to retrieve an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.” What set Jesus apart from the rest of religion is now considered to be a “nice idea”–but a failed project. It’s because we will not recognize the enemies–there are two of them. The enemies of the meek are conservatives and liberals. While we jockey in this country to see which party is going to take authority over our government, we fail to understand that both of them are poison to human progress.

“The meek shall inherit the earth”–as long as they don’t insist on being either conservative or liberal. The meek win because they DO love their neighbor as themselves and they reject the conservatives and liberals, who in their own ways, protest such a notion.

If you decide to stop fighting against life and God and the planet around you, the conservatives will be very upset with you. All conservatives everywhere desire an enemy. It is not an enemy they wish to love, but rather, target–blaming this entity for all the foulness on the planet. He is often embodied in the personage of Lucifer–the devil–or just “darkness.” So every conservative is constantly trying to find little pieces of that evil in everyone they meet, or create fellowship with other conservatives based upon the notion that such a singular, nefarious force exists. Just talk in front of a group of conservative people and tell them that the worst devil lives inside of them. You will soon find that they will do what conservatives always do, which is find means to attack your character. The reason we need the meek is because conservatives use the personal attack and it takes someone of great fortitude, insight, humor and gentleness to walk away from the lies instead of retaliating.

Liberals, on the other hand, don’t care much about whether your character matches up with theirs or not. They refer to that as diversity. They think they’re better than conservatives because they’re more open in their acceptance of others–except in one area. They expect you to embrace knowledge as the ultimate solution to all of mankind’s problems. In other words, what we lack is education. (This is certainly proven by the fact that college campuses tend to be great centers of compassion, human understanding and discovery of ways to get along–rather than party schools, sources of over-indulgence and prideful oracles of accumulated information.) Yes, a liberal will attack your lack of education or intelligence, or try to find a way of proving that you’re against knowledge. So some conservative commentator like Sean Hannity will cast a jaundiced eye towards a liberal based upon his approval of an unacceptable, perceived evil behavior, while a Bill Maher, on the other hand, will make fun of spiritual people because they hold fast to “Bible stories,” trying to make them look like country bumpkins or imbeciles.

What is the job of the meek? Refrain from the insane. 

If you find a crowd of people rallying behind something, I will guarantee you their cause is already out-dated or ill-founded. The heart of God is always a still, small voice–whispered in your ear rather than shouted from the holy hills of Jerusalem.

What can I do to be a meek individual, even though I might be treated as a freak? Yes, what are the things to accomplish today in my life that will help me maintain the meekness that grants me the deed to the earth?

1. Stop denying or excusing my human behavior. As I said, we all want people to stay out of our face and out of our space. We would also rather make excuses for failing than plans for winning. The secret to life is understanding, finding your angle, trying, repenting. That’s it. Don’t give up on truth just because you find yourself the only one on your block who’s chasing it.

2. You cannot be a conservative or a liberal and be meek. Both camps demand that you reject meekness from time to time to attack the other side. Neither conservatives nor liberals are either my friends or my enemies. They are just people who like to clump together and find comfort in numbers. I don’t require that. I believe that “do unto others as you would have them do unto you” translates more efficiently as “NoOne is better than anyone else.” And believe you me, that statement separates the men from the boys.

3. Silence should be the natural state when we don’t know what we’re talking about. Americans are so afraid to be without an opinion that we borrow them from other people. This is how bad ideas get started and are sustained. If I don’t know how to help a situation, I refuse to have an opinion on it. It’s useless. I am here to edify, not critique.

4. And finally, loneliness is underrated. Even though we portray being lonely as a negative, most of us will admit that we’ve made some of our better decisions in a quiet room by ourselves. When I hear yelling, I exit. When I hear doctrines being espoused as truth, I quietly slip away. And when people are sure they are right, I am sure they are wrong. There’s a time to be lonely–because in that solitude, we once again honor the notion that we are not alone, our feelings are not superior and there are others who live on this globe with us.

Be careful. There is a campaign by both conservatives and liberals to make the American populace feisty and angry. It has never worked before and this new incarnation will also end up dead on arrival. Meekness is an inclination which leads to an action, insisting that we love our neighbor as ourselves.

It may take an hour; it may take a day. It may take your lifetime.

But the meek always win.

The meek always inherit the earth.

**************

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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