PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant … July 11th, 2018


 Jonathots Daily Blog

(3730)

Every Winner

by Jonathan Richard Cring

Don’t look for me down the road just yet

I’m reveling in this particular spot

Don’t insist my feet need to be more wet

I’m really learning a lot

The race you run is exhausting to me

I like to stop–enjoy what I see

So speed on, dear friend, just let me be

I’m enjoying the power of free

I really lost my single soul

Trying to be the “Best in Show”

Teaching the old dog takes its toll

Yes, the bite is worse than the bark

I’m not a philosopher, nor a king

Not a possessor of all that’s wise

I want to wear simple shoes

And avoid the nasty lies

My feelings were raw and full of hurt

Frightened to make a start

So give me time to sense again

And open up my heart

God means nothing if I feel small

So I relax, peaceful, awaiting my call

There is no hurry, there is no worry

No need to toil and spin

Slow down the race and find my place

Perhaps I still can win

For today has come to keep me busy

Making my logical case

For every winner is still a sinner

Pursuing amazing grace

Today’s reader is Jerrod, who lives in Florida and works as an executive technician at 3G Productions, residing with his wife and two daughters

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PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant … February 14th, 2018


 Jonathots Daily Blog

(3583) 

Hand of Love

Music is how I heal my heart

When my soul can’t touch my brain

Mercy is what I grant to you

To escape from going insane

Grace is the hand of love

Caressing what’s condemned

The law, drenched in kindness

Ready to amend

Laughter, the way I dry my tears

Compassion the pathway, allay my fears

Faith my only substantial hope

To bolster my trust, learn to cope

This morning I continued my personal story

Another day blessed this side of Glory

Do this, do that, do nothing at all

Catch my breath, cushion the fall

Inhaling the truth, made so free

Find my peace

With me…then thee.Donate Button

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Good News and Better News … January 29th, 2018


 Jonathots Daily Blog

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Somewhere stuck between pissed off and tuned out, I waddle and wheeze, waiting for a needful kick in the butt, which I pray will actually be a whack of love.

For I am a human being. I look a lot like a monkey, but my Daddy is the King of the Universe (paternity test yet to be performed).

While we wiggle and struggle over the language of piety, politics and purpose, most of the human race is looking for a pleasant path to eating a good meal, while trying to get along.

Everything is too damn complicated. Matter of fact, writing this essay creates the risk of heaping another helping of opinion onto the stinky pile accumulated behind the house.

Can we simplify?

As far as I know (and I could be wrong, but not just because you think so–there would have to be some merit to your objection) every one of us needs:

1. A start of heart.

If we don’t feel, we don’t have any feeling. If we have no feeling, we have no empathy, and without empathy we start treating people like dogs (or even worse, because we kind of like dogs).

2. A goal of soul.

Even if there were no God we would have to invent one in order to lift our behavior above eye-gouging and tooth extraction.

I need a soul. I need to know you have one. Otherwise, if you get in my way, you could start looking like a cockroach and I might be tempted to strap on my killin’ boots.

3. A lane for the brain.

Parents, culture, family, schooling and misgivings have built cement freeways in our cranium. Unfortunately these roads don’t always take us to a healthy place. We need a lane in the brain to keep us from being insane.

4. A wealth of health.

I’m talking about your best health. If you’re like me, you’ll probably never be as well-structured as an Olympic athlete. But you can be the best pudgy, healthy rendition of the model that’s been provided for you.

These are the four things we’re all concerned about when we aren’t bitching. Once we begin to complain, life becomes too pat. “It’s your fault because it couldn’t be my fault because I have no fault.”

As you see, this is not a very fruitful profile.

So the good news is, if we will stop trying to change the world by preaching, the better news is, we might just start finding so much commonality that we are sympathetic to one another.

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G-Poppers … December 1st, 2017


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Many years ago, G-Pop suggested to his children that they celebrate December 1st as “Life With Style New Year”–not that there was anything particularly wrong with a January 1st startup on the calendar.

But because Christmas is such a special season, it just seemed natural to G-Pop that the year should commence with Yuletide sentiments.

It is a simple celebration–a time to welcome the Prince of Peace to a world that’s not very peaceful; to smile on a baby born in a manger to a planet that has somewhat forgotten the total safety of children; and to acknowledge once again that we are heart, soul, mind and body people, and each part of us needs to hum at a sweet vibration in order for our entire beings to be satisfied.

The heart needs joy.

The soul needs humility.

The mind needs creativity.

And the body needs temperance.

Even though sadness will come into our emotions, we become mature when we understand that our weeping needs to cease, allowing a new morning of joy to dawn.

Although we may feel greatly spiritually blessed by God’s love, we all must humbly remember how it is grace that covers our multitude of sins.

And merely using the mind to recollect instead of expanding ourselves with new ideas is a waste of good brain power.

And of course, the body should have license for nourishment and pleasure–as long as we don’t do too much.

December 1st is a day to rejoice in the birth of possibilities, the nurturing of peace and the joy that we humbly and creatively practice in temperance.

So from G-Pop and his family: Happy Life With Style New Year.

May the Christmas Season bring you all the wonderment it was intended to give.

 

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PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant … September 28th, 2016


 Jonathots Daily Blog

(3078)

string

A Sort Meant

Today is sufficiently constructed to handle the problems provided.

Worry is the drain on time that steals the energy to try.

Childish people lure you to their playground, where they can bully you with ease.

If we refrain from judging one another we might uncover our common core,

You will never find God if you’ve lost your humanity.

Out of the abundance of God’s heart, He speaks.

But religion is using God’s name in vain.

Love is the correct pronunciation.

Caving into pressure forces you to dig your way to freedom.

Every time you kill a jesus, you get a christ

And every moment you respect the Christ, you resurrect some Jesus.

The profit margin of gaining the world ignores the deduction of losing your soul.

For when words are organized into ideas, and ideas are granted heart, then the human race can breathe again.

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PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant … September 14th, 2016


 Jonathots Daily Blog

(3064)

pohymn-jans-hands

Invoking

It’s time for a blessing for this place

A smile bursting across each face

We’ve stayed too long in the grip of fear

The spirit is willing–please draw near

To resurrect our amazing grace

 

The young don’t know about the power

That love can bring to this hour

The older saints who still remain

Conjure the memory of the great refrain

Let the joy begin to shower

 

Jesus is more than Christ, you see

Our elder brother who came to be

Come and learn about his ways

Fill your life with hopeful days

Then say, “Free, yes me–I’m free.”

 

I am just a pilgrim voice

Escape the wrath, make a choice

The moment has come to be made whole

Heart, mind, body and soul

Children make a joyful noise 

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Jesonian: Reverend Meningsbee (Part 13) The Back Door… July 24th, 2016


 Jonathots Daily Blog

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Reverend Meningsbee

“I know what you want to hear, and honest to God, I’d love to give it to you. Matter of fact, I must have picked up the phone half a dozen times this week, to call one of you and share my heart and feel comforted by your listening ears and what I’m sure would have been your kind words.

But I can’t.”

(A universal frown emerged on the collective countenance of the congregation.)

Meningsbee continued.

“I want to, but do you understand? There are things more important than what I want. Things more important than what you want. I can tell you that I went to Sammy Collins’ house on Monday night–made my famous beans and weenies–and prepared for whatever God would set before me. Patrick was there but no one else. I mean, Sammy and his wife were there, but that was it.”

(A deeper frown)

“You’re going to want to know why, or maybe you already know and I’m just being stupid here. Maybe you heard a lot more than I think. But I can’t share without betraying what I believe, what I hold dear and what makes me who I am.

I don’t think I’ve ever explained to you about my faith. I mean, I’ve shared it with you, but probably never explained it. Since none of us know what really happens when we die, everything we talk about in this sanctuary is theory. There are Christians who believe they’re right no matter what, but since no one has gone beyond death and come back with a completely unbiased report, we’re really doing this whole thing grasping at the air.

Can I be honest? It’s why lots of people give up.Their desire to be something or do something suddenly exceeds their comprehension of belief, so they split the scene.

Listen, I made my peace with God a long time ago by making sure that if He doesn’t exist, it doesn’t make any difference to me.

You might think I’m getting off the subject. Maybe I am. But really, it’s all the same point. I can’t tell you what happened at Sammy Collins’ house because it goes against who I am–who I’ve decided to be. Who I think I need to be to make sense to me.

You see, I sat down one day and decided what I would need to be if there were no God or heaven. I would still need to make a case for myself. After all, I’m here. Whether it was a miracle of creation or a process of evolution–TA-DA! Behold, I have arrived.

Even if I found out that God was all made up, I would have to include people. They’re around, you know. Except on Monday night at Sammy’s house.”

(A refreshing, hearty laugh.)

“You can’t live without running into folks. So you should make sure the cushion you keep between you and them prevents bruising.

And also, daggone it, while I’m here I might as well be creative. If you’re going to do everything the same all the time, you’re going to start hoping for heaven, which… Well, you know. We’re not sure.

And I’ve always believed in respecting life. If it’s alive, it deserves a chance.

See, I call this my back door. When I get discouraged or you guys piss me off, I go there–to that back door–and I open it up and I imagine a world without God and realize that it still would require His spirit. Does that make sense to you?

Well anyway, much as I would like to tell you my story and share my disappointment, I can’t. Because the God that’s in my heart is certainly real, whether the God of the Universe is or not.

You know, it’s funny. I’ve never told this to anyone before. I’ve never spoken it out loud–mainly because I thought it made me look like a freakin’ atheist. I’m not, though. I believe it all. I’m just ready, in case it’s not exactly what’s been advertised. I’m prepared to make sure that the things I would have done get done. And one of the things is to keep what happened Monday night to myself.

If it’s any comfort, if I was going to tell anybody, it sure would be you cool dudes.”

Everybody laughed.

But then something strange happened. Two or three, and then five or ten people rose to their feet, came up and hugged Meningsbee with tears in their eyes.

The emotion he had been holding back all week long suddenly burst, and the good reverend fell to his knees, weeping.

The rest of the congregation joined the others around him, sprouting their own tears. Even four or five visitors stood on the perimeter with misty eyes.

Reverend Richard Meningsbee didn’t ponder what was happening.

He just let it happen.

 

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