The Offering – Audio

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child's hands

I re-submit this to go along with my recent thoughts on Christmas, Grace, and how one might be led down a blind ally seeking God or truth in doing.

With up-lifted hands I hold my best.
I offer it to you.
With trembling I await your acceptance of my gift
With trembling I dread your rejection.

I am in need. I am broken and out of my brokenness
I have fashioned my offering.
I have pieced it together with much pain and trembling
hoping to please you.

Now it is all that I have.
Every good thing in me has been
made manifest and resides in my gift.
I await your judgment.

As you approach I am borne aloft in anticipation
of your response.
My hopes walk the razors edge between your
delight and your disappointment.

I am reeling! You walked past my gift as if
it were not there.
I was prostrate offering my sacred gift, that which
I had made for you.

I am punctured, humiliated before you.
I shrink, collapsing, naked and ashamed.
Ashes are all.
Ashes, decay, and dry barren dust.

You move into the wasteland of my soul.
Slowly and with great care you search.
Blowing away the ashes while your dirty hands
seek something in the wreck that I am.

My humiliation evaporates as I see that
you heed my filth less than you did my gift.
You find and hold a tiny ember still glowing
somehow beneath the rubble.

I rest like a child in your hands and
again offer my gift to you.
You smile, kiss my foolish head, and with
a magnet attach my gift to your refrigerator.

Merry Freakin’ Christmas – :)

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Image result for creepy santa image rudolph frosty jesus

Now I am not dogging out Christmas but I have been thinking about it and the stories we tell our children as well as the impact those stories have.  I remember the magic of it and the power that innocent hope has to help children modify their behavior if only for a season.  Ralphee was able to focus and get creative and overcome obstacles motivated by the lure of a Red Rider BB gun.  As best I can remember that movie had a purely secular slant on it and probably is a good reflection of the psychology behind our yearly spending frenzy. It seems now most of what this season has become is a three month cultural ritual which culminates in a lavish sacrifice to the one-eyed god – MON-EYE

I was wondering what must go through the mind of a child regarding this mishmash of stories that have somehow evolved into whatever we do during this time of year.  Children, especially those raised in a Christian tradition must be the most confused.  Let’s see . . . Jesus was born on December 25th that just so happens to coincide with significant dates in Astral theology.  He was visited by shepherds and angels and wise men on that night, unless one reads the account and find that the wise guys showed up a few years later.  A poor boy played his magic drum that made animals dance.  Frosty needs help from Santa to come back to life.  Santa and Rudolph and the folks from the Island of Misfit Toys I think were also at the birth.  Jesus is loosely associated with evergreen trees and lights and gifts and peppermint and Santa and flying reindeer and Coke cola and polar bears and Budweiser horses.  Between all of these stories and songs and a multitude of church plays with questionable theology the key player in all of this jumble is Santa.  He is the one who is always watching (creepy) and is keeping a list.  A naughty and nice list.  I am thinking that for the average elementary aged “Christian” child the God story must be something like this.  We were bad and Jesus came to help us.  People came to visit him and brought him stuff and wore robes.  There were angels and animals and Santa and Rudolph and Frosty and the boy with the magic drum.  There is something about Jesus dying on a great pine tree and in the spring the magic Easter bunny leaves colored eggs that Jesus hatches from. And there’s chocolate.  Still trying to figure out where the cavemen and dinosaurs and Batman fits in.  But most importantly if I am “good” Santa will give me stuff.  If I am “bad” I will be punished.  Santa watches and keeps a list. Now creepy Santa has a new helper.  The Elf on the shelf. 🙂  (Just playing no judgement.)

If the Jesus story is anything it is a story of grace.  But somehow in the larger culture it has functionally created a mass hysteria involving money and debt and guilt and greed and self-indulgence a spike in alcohol sales and therapy early the next year.  Junk purchased and soon disregarded pass for meaningful gifts and distract from the true wonder of grace.  Just wondering out loud but I think those were not the results intended by the divine incarnation.  Grace is free and frees.  It is not an easy thing but it lasts and carries no debt.

But grace is a very frightening thing. 🙂 It can not be controlled or bargained with. We have to accept it naked and without merit or it can’t be had. When it comes, it comes to our core where it is needed. The light came into the darkness and the darkness could not overcome it. That is the place that is shamed and we’ve hidden it under the fig leaves.  When it comes it exposes our weakness and sense of unworthiness. We are naked again as in the beginning of things. Grace though brings life and not death.

I think we often understand grace as some divine indulgence or permission where god sometimes lets us get away with things or does us favors depending on whether we are on the naughty or nice list.

But because we are never fully naughty or fully nice (good or bad) it promotes insecurity and we never really know our standing with the universe. God’s favor or displeasure seems a mystery and random. We get trapped in the good-bad thinking and wonder why god does not play by the rules we were taught. In that we seldom question the rules the default become something is wrong with me.  And we go round and round the good-bad dialectic. Good and bad is an illusion and a lie. We can never be good enough to win god’s favor or bad enough to loose it. It is a stupid trap and a trick from hell. It is a control mechanism based in fear.  That is why even Jesus would not let them call him good. He recognized bullshit when he heard it. The better question is whether something is true or not. Is it in accordance with the nature of creation or not.  Are you being true to who you were created to be and to become, or are you trapped in the bargain of trying to be good and hiding when you are bad.

Santa like many other traps and illusions looks good on the surface.  Somehow we get sucked into believing that we can bargain with Santa or the Government or God or our spouse or boss or children etc. etc. etc. to win favor and avoid the punishment inherent in the naughty list.  But we remain confused and lost and life seems to be arbitrary and outside the rules. It seems that way at times because we learned the wrong rules. Maybe that is why little kids are afraid of Santa and Disney characters.  They know what’s up, they sense it and have to be trained that they are not scary. The universe is love and grace.  The Creator already favors you and offers it freely.  It has always been yours.  Striving to earn it misses the point.  Feeling beyond its help is ridiculous.  It has nothing to do with either proposition.  You already are everything you need to be.  That is the point of grace.  That is the gift of Grace.  That is the story of Christmas.  We are all, everyone, from the Island of Misfit Toys and God loves folks like that.  Blessings – Plato

AND

Image result for creepy santa image rudolph frosty jesus

No point. Just thought it was funny.

I Am – Kinda (Audio) A little Southern Mysticism

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Image result for cheap carnival spookhouse image

I am

But who is saying that

This is me

The same one who sucked his thumb

But who is observing the me thinking of the me

I am the same

I have observed the changes

In my body

In my thoughts

My experiences

My beliefs

My habits

My desires

But all of those things are not me

Me is back here watching

Observing

I am beginning to remember that I forgot

I have missed me

I searched for me in many places

I have looked in the reflections and have mistaken me for them

To suck my thumb feels awkward now

Funny how I once was so attached to it

I am guessing there are things I am attached to that are as transient as my thumb even now

It is interesting to have the awareness back that I had as a child

Observing and wondering, separate from the Self, the Ego, at least sometimes

Fear must have created that projection I called me

Well, some of it

Some of it is OK and is part of my groove

I think fear must have built the rest because it seems fear is what enforces the construct and dread guards the exits

But like a carnival spook-house been through several times, I am getting bored with it

I am yawning, its so 1-2-3 now jump and . . . Que the strobes, now crooked mirrors and fog and skeletons and turn the corner where the drug addict Carney jumps out and yells

The fear is getting be to quiet lame, much like the raggedy clown that pops out of the dark place and flops around on worn springs

Turning the lights on reveals the primitive, laughable, side show that has held me hostage

I think I’m gonna look outside the mirrors and the cheap carnival and try to remember the one who has been watching

See if he is still around somewhere

The source of all the reflections

I like my Self OK

But I am more than what I have created

And the dude at the exit has warrants

He won’t bother me if I really want to go

 

The Search for You (Part 2)- Audio

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I searched for you again today.
I strained to find you amidst the chaos of a world seething with disappointment, battered dreams, and fragile hopes.
Millions of souls crying out for the answer to their hearts’ deepest longings.

I looked down the well-worn paths, the familiar places where I’ve sought you before.

Nature’s beauty was dulled.
The crisp cool air on my face did not quicken my senses as before.
It was only cold.
The golden red light of the sunset did not dazzle me with its splendor.
The orb hung in only two dimensions, flat against the dull sky.
It only moved me to squint the brazen light from my eyes.

The sounds and rhythms of life around me seemed out of tune and dissonant with my pattern.
I felt a stranger to the world.
Out of place.
Out of joint.

The faces, the touch, the voices of friends and loved ones did not reach me.
They seemed only to intrude upon my search.
Words of love, comfort, even humor, irritated and sparked anger hidden beneath my smile.

Exhausted, hope failing, desperate for you.
Weeping from the anguish of my bitter longing.
Prostrate, face to the earth, search ended – unfulfilled.

At the end of my search, at the end of one last bitter breath, after one final look outward,

I paused –

Stillness

My eyes sought a new path.
I slowly shifted my gaze.
As my eyes turned inward I was startled to discover your presence.
You were there where you have always been.
The wellspring of my heart was flooded with joy as I was filled with awareness of you.
You are a part of me, and I you.
I knew that which I have always known.
Nothing, no obstacle, no circumstance can separate me from you and you from me.
We exist together out of time.
We are eternal.
You and I will be always, even to the ends of the earth.

I found you today.

I searched for You today (Audio)

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I searched for you today.
Upon awakening I became aware of how unfinished I am without you.

I searched for you today.
From everywhere and nowhere you beckoned me.
You called for my attention – No you demanded it.

I searched for you today.
Sometimes light and undefined, sometimes as a poignant ache or thrill, all of my senses experienced your call.

I searched for you today.
For your call presumed upon all thought, movement, and experience.
It interrupted and reminded me that all happiness is fleeting without you.

I searched for you today.
I thought I saw you once as the morning sun broke through a dull grey/white bank of clouds.
For a second of a second you were near me – and then gone.

I searched for you today.
I thought I heard your voice whisper my name, calling me from my place across the sea.
I turned and found only the wind and waves crashing across the jetty.

I searched for you today.
I reviewed cataloged memories, testing them, observing the many facets of my experience of you.  Believing that you will never leave me or forsake me.

I searched for you today.
Sometimes frantic, sometimes at rest, but always watchful for signs of your presence.

I searched for you today.
I saw the silver/white shimmer of the moonlight on the waves forming an other-worldly highway across the water to the place where you are.

I searched for you today.
Within a myriad of thoughts, experiences, and sensations you were sought.

The gentle intimacy between a father and his daughter.

A fragrance which awakens the senses.

A beautiful strain of music which stirs the soul.
Touch, taste, textures, sounds, sights, aromas, all hint at beauty consummated.

They all hint, beckon, and remind me of you.

I searched for you today.