Cracked 5 … July 7th, 2015

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(2626)

cracked 5 logo keeper with border

Items Left Over After the July 4th Celebration

 

A. Two probably perfectly good uncooked T-bone steaks that Picky Pam said “smelled funny.”

 

B. An odd-looking bottle of untouched blue liquor labeled “George Washington Whiskey.”

 

C. A ruined Uncle Sam goatee that came unglued from your face and fell into the guacamole.

 

D. Two boxes of sparklers that failed to ignite because the cat peed on them.

 

E. Two packs of tofu hotdogs that you bought, but your vegetarian buddies from work failed to show up.

 

 

Uncle Sam

 

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NEW BOOK RELEASE BY JONATHAN RICHARD CRING

WITHIN

A meeting place for folks who know they’re human

 $3.99 plus $2.00 S&H

 

$3.99 plus $2.00 S & H

$3.99 plus $2.00 S & H

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PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant … March 18, 2015

Jonathots Daily Blog

(2535)

PoHymn March 18

A Workable We

Thought about vegetarian

But couldn’t “meat” the need

Wanted to become a doctor

But afraid to watch it bleed

Could have been a singer

But didn’t sew up a deal

How about a game show host?

Stymied by the wheel

Pondered pursuing politics

Yet couldn’t suffer to lie

Yearned to father children

Despised it when they cry

Dreamed of going to heaven

But terrified of heights

Made it safe to Friday night

But apparently missed the lights

Curious about kissing

She said, “Don’t give me lip”

Wanted to write a poem

Never, ever quite that hip

Went to see the sunrise

Peering to the west

Got to good and better

Yet never was the best

I shopped for a boat

But never completed the sale

Inherited a mountain goat

Without a suitable tale

I am a dollar short

On any given pay

But rich with thoughtful words

Conscious of what to say

I am the me that comes to thee

Searching for ways to be

Alive, content and satisfied

Creating a workable we.

 

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Cring & Clazzy present concert in Ocala on March 24th!

Cring & Clazzy present concert in Ocala on March 24th!

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

click above for information on 567!

click above for information on 567!

Boiler plate 

Tanks of Thanks … November 21, 2013

Jonathots Daily Blog

(2074)

tanksBefore we gather together to ask the Lord’s blessing, performing our hastening and chastening–yes, just prior to going through the normal list of fundamentals of gratitude with family, friends, finance, faith and freedom–and certainly just short of chomping down on that first bite of turkey and taking a crescent roll to sop up the gravy, may I suggest that we quickly consider and review some lesser-known blessings that often escape inclusion in the quick prayer uttered for Thanksgiving dinner?

1. Of the 12,420 diseases known to man, I have successfully negotiated myself through another year of avoiding most of them. (It appears I am somewhat immune).

2. I am happy to report that I squeaked by from 76 near-collisions in traffic, making it possible for me to not have a “bender in my fender.”

3. Interestingly enough, I almost tripped 54 times without falling on my face–or any other body part, for that matter.

4. Are you ready for this? I successfully found my keys 243 times without cussing.

5. I rejoice in the fact that I have had more good night’s sleep than not.

6. I am not too much fatter than last year.

7. How about this one? I didn’t get audited.

8. I was not caught sleeping during Sunday sermon.

9. My family is mostly healthy.

10. Much to my glee, I didn’t have the job of explaining the government to anybody.

11. I ate some delicious fish, poultry, beef, pork and seafood without feeling too guilty around my granddaughter, who now insists she’s a vegetarian.

12. Laughed more than I cried.

13. More “car running” than “car repair.”

14. Said hello more to new friends than good-bye to old ones.

15. I am delighted to note that I prayed more than I cursed.

16. I learned more than I forgot.

17. Praised more than I complained.

18, Believed more than I doubted.

19. More sunshine than rain.

20. And finally, even though I sometimes acted like a turkey, I still kept my head on this Thanksgiving.

My dear brothers and sisters, I have tanks of thanks.

All I can say is: Dear God, come and fill ‘er up.

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

Click for details on the SpirTed 2014 presentation

Click for details on the SpirTed 2014 presentation

Please contact Jonathan’s agent, Jackie Barnett, at (615) 481-1474, for information about scheduling SpiriTed in 2014.

click to hear music from Spirited 2014

click to hear music from Spirited 2014

Day One, Part Three — Lighten Up … February 17, 2012

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Jubal hated his name.
 
Actually, he hated people’s reaction to his name. Everybody wanted to misspell it, mispronounce it and certainly, misinterpret it. He often wondered why his parents had made the choice, considering all the “John, Paul, Sam and Tom” possibilities available. When he asked them about it, their only response was, “Special people need special names.”
 
Jubal didn’t feel very special. Aside from the fact that every time he was introduced, some folks would crinkle their brow, trying to fathom the origin of his particular calling card, he felt completely normal, and really, without any outstanding uniqueness.
 
Well, he did have one talent. He enjoyed writing. Not scribbling and scrawling–just poetry and prose. He had even submitted some of his material to some publishers, and was unceremoniously informed that “there was no market for rhyme and verse.” He just smiled. So much like his whole life–there’s just no room in the world for a Jubal.
 
One day, in the midst of deep thought accompanied with a side of self-pity, he decided to stop complaining and create something. He took some of his poems, Xeroxed them and put them into a little booklet and entitled it Jubal’s Nation.  The volume wasn’t very attractive. It certainly lacked Madison Avenue appeal. But he decided it was his “meaningful mess.” It was a conglomeration of what he had learned, felt and discovered during his journey thus far. For Jubal had selected to allow his emotions to be honest, his spirit to seek and his brain to learn, while keeping his body as healthy as possible.
 
The process generated a product–him–and there was a natural light that beamed from that completed package that he felt was worth sharing. So he “published” his little work and passed it out to friends. He passed it out to enemies. He passed it out to everybody who was willing to hold out a hand and receive it. He had just enough funds to print two hundred copies of his little tome, and within three weeks he had dispersed all of them.
 
He sat back and waited. He realized that everything he could do was now complete. He had taken his time to discover the light within him and then had meticulously, through his pen and heart, released that light onto paper. He realized that none of us can offer any more than what we really are. It reminded him of a scripture in the Bible, where God looked on a world He had created and said, “‘Let there be light.’ And there was light.” There wasn’t light because God spoke it into existence. There was light because God WAS light. He might as well have said, “Let there be Me.” Jubal recognized, and even reveled in the fact that when you work on your internal light, you have the right and authority to speak that light into existence. Otherwise, your time on earth is a series of wishes and hopes instead of beams of enlightenment.
 
It took a while. Some time passed before people responded to Jubal about his new little book. He was itching to ask them, but intelligently passed, figuring that it was much too pushy and much too predictable. After a few weeks he received some emails. One lady said that the words arrived in her life right after the death of her husband and took away some of the sense of desperation. Another young gentleman said that he was actually contemplating suicide but had giggled at Jubal’s self-deprecating poems and realized that nothing was quite as bad as it seemed. Some folks actually wanted additional copies, although they suggested an improvement in the printing and the appearance of the work.
 
Jubal was ecstatic. He wasn’t going to be famous–but he never really wanted that. He just wanted to make a meaningful mess, while sharing the honesty of his heart, the seeking of his spirit, the learning of his brain, propelled by the health of his body. He wanted to bring the light that he was into being. He knew, deep in his soul, that no one can shed illumination if they do not already possess the spark. He knew that, just  like God, he was allowed to say, “Let there be light” if he had actually produced some light inside himself.
 
He still wasn’t sure he was thrilled with his name, but Jubal was an excellent name for a poet, if not for a dude. He printed off some more of his stories and circulated them. And that pretty well culminated the lifespan of Jubal’s Nation. But it produced enough light to brighten up his future.
 
Jubal would be more than just an unusual name for an unusual guy. He would always be a poet who was trying to create a meaningful mess through the honesty of his emotions, the seeking of his soul and the discoveries of his brain. From that point forward, he would be that poet who happened to have the really cool name: Jubal.
 
**************
Got a question for Jonathan? Or would you like to receive a personal weekly email? Just click my email address below and let me know what’s on your mind! jonathancring@gmail.com
 
  **************

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.

Day One, Part Two — Add Water … February 16, 2012

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Water is necessary for the creation and the sustenance of life. This is a scientific fact. It is why we study other planets to discover if there is any H2O in assessing the possibility of past or present life forms. It is also why, when we have made our “meaningful mess,” that we need to add water to it.
 
What is the water? What is necessary to pour into every endeavor, to guarantee the ongoing fostering of life?
 
Let’s go back to who we are. We are heart, soul, mind and strength. So each one of those parts needs to be watered. Each one requires fluid to prevent us from drying out.
 
What is the water for our heart–i.e., our emotions? You may have your own ideas, but I feel that what is needed to prevent us from becoming an emotional desert is an outlet for honesty. We certainly dry up inside when we are not allowed to express our real feelings, even if they end up being erroneous or false. The key to emotional good health is not always being right. If you want a pure heart, it is only purified by being granted voice–to express “where you are” at any given moment without fear of being condemned for having the sensation or being trapped into a box where you must remain because you dared to establish your position. In other words, if we really believed we were capable of being wrong, we would be more emotionally honest, causing us to discover what works and doesn’t work, flushing us out. But most people live an emotional life that is as dry as a bone–cracking because of dehydration–overly sensitive, primed and ready to be offended at a moment’s notice. The water we add to our emotions initiates our outlet to be honest.
 
Which brings us to the water we add to our soul. This one may surprise you a little bit. The spirit actually dies when it tries to follow the letter of the law instead of being stimulated by the permission to seek. It is the difference between spirituality and religion. Religion wants us to worship what is determined to be the “acceptable God.” Spirituality acknowledges God while we seek to understand more about Him and therefore ourselves. You can always forecast the death of the human spirit by the presence of three dark, cloudy statements: (1) “This is the way we’ve always done it;” (2).”We believe this is God’s will;” (3) We have no intentions of changing it.” You can understand why the church must escape religion to find the true spirituality that gives each of us permission to seek and therefore waters our souls with the showers of blessing from heaven and the wellsprings from the earth.
 
Likewise, we water our minds with a desire to learn. Learning is not listening to information–learning is not even studying available data. Learning is an admission that we are absent the necessary input to satisfy our mental needs and we are on a journey to acquire it. Anything that you close the book on in your mind causes your brain to dry out, inviting stubbornness, stupidity and honestly, maybe even dementia. An active brain is a learning brain and a learning brain is a mind not totally made up–but still willing to admit the need for fresh ideas.
 
And finally, the water for our body is … just that. Water. You can exercise all you want. You can be a vegetarian. But unless you flush your body with a gallon or more of water each day, you can’t be healthy. It’s more or less an internal baptism, because water runs through our system and literally flushes out all the impurities hiding in the nooks and crannies and pushes them out of our bodies through the exits provided
 
You see, after you decide to make a “meaningful mess,” you have created life. But life needs you to add water daily.
  • For your emotions, that means you need an outlet for honesty.
  • For your spirit, it is permission to seek instead of blindly following the rules and regulations provided.
  • For your brain, it’s a desire to learn instead of just perusing available words and pretending to listen.
  • And for your body, it’s guzzling that gallon of water every day, giving you a baptism of your innards to match the one you received for salvation.
You have to add water. Our society is a desert of mind-numbing repetition. It makes us old before our time so we try to decorate our bodies with young things, to hide the aging that is going on inside our heart, spirit, mind and strength.
 
Make a meaningful mess. Don’t be ashamed of a small beginning. But nurture that creation by adding water. It’s what God did–He created the heavens and the earth and then He moved across the face of the waters. He let water do its miracle of making life.
 
Don’t dry out. Don’t become crusty, cranky and dehydrated. Add water. And once you do that, it makes Part Three possible in exploring the instigation of new life.
 
See you tomorrow.
 
**************
Got a question for Jonathan? Or would you like to receive a personal weekly email? Just click my email address below and let me know what’s on your mind! jonathancring@gmail.com
 
  **************

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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