Rugged Angel: Ubi Caritas

“U-bi ca-ri-tas et a-mor, De-us i-bi est”

The notes danced in a cheerful six eight meter. Next to a cluster of medicine bottles, a small candle on the kitchen table was lit, a crucifix supported upright in a small orange juice glass and two women sang a hymn to a congregation of one, Ms. Miramontes.

“Con-gre-ga-vit nos in u-num

Chris-ti a-mor.”

I chose to sit silently in the back pew; the furthest chair at the opposite end of the kitchen table. My stomach sang along. It was half past noon and all that I had for the day was a communion wafer. I annoyed myself with internal chastising for not getting a good night's rest, not having breakfast and feeling frustrated that time with mother on Mother's Day was going to be with other people at other people's homes before making it to the family gathering at my brother's home. For two verses I growled with my stomach before getting reeled into the reality three feet in front of me.

“Exul-te-mus, et in ip-so lu-cun-de-mur.”

A plastic container in the shape of the good lady of hope with a blue cap stood next to the flickering candle. The blue cap was taken off and mom's church sister Miss Lori or "Auntie Lori," blessed Ms. Miramontes with holy water while she sat in a light orange floral flannel nightgown trimmed with white dainty lace. She was frail but proud; weathered but noble. She gave a quiet cough and didn't smile but was unruffled by her condition. She held an air of dignity. My mother continued singing and handed me a hymn book motioning me to join in.

“Ti-me-a-mus, et a-me-mus

De-um vi-vum.”

It was my second "Mass" of the day. The first Mass was celebrated at a high school gym where I sat on a riser directly below the score board with my brother and his family. Mom sat with the choir, a modest collection of young people mixed with the granny club. I didn't sing. I listened. I listened to my nieces laughter, the gentle reprimanding of their parents, and the choir. My brother's babies delighted in the sounds their feet made when they jumped up and down on the shiny court; the guitarist strummed a false chord and the game pressed on. The altar and priest stood centered in the three point area before the basketball hoop while the bulk of the parishioners sat in the perimeter on folding metal chairs. I was content and happy to be away from my Sunday routine of teaching piano lessons in Beverly Hills. I was in the southernmost part of San Diego. I could see Mexico.

"Keep Mom company at her appointments and help her to NOT lose track of time." My brother instructed me earlier that morning when I emerged from the guest room. I had restlessly sat up most of the evening and managed a two hour nap. So it wasn't a surprise that somewhere between the high school gym and the five minute drive to Ms. Miramontes' home, I lost track of that Sunday sort of feeling.

“Et ex cor-de di-li-ga-mus nos sin-cero.”

Thank God the hymn anchored me into the moment. I forgot my nagging stomach. I forgot about the family party that was waiting for my mother and I. And Ms. Miramontes patiently listened to a faster version of the Bible readings. She then assured us that she was fine, had been fed earlier and expected her caretaker to return. Mother's Day wishes were exchanged along with apologies for not being able to stay longer and we hastened from Ms. Miramontes' home to the next appointment where Sunday readings and Ubi Caritas was to be read and sung for the third time.

"Did you see the photographs of Ms. Miramontes? She was very beautiful."

"And still is, Mom."

"Should we call your brothers? We still have one last appointment. The next house might be a bit difficult in getting away. Mr. Rose likes to talk."

"No, let's just text them when we are close to the house. They already know that lunch is delayed. They'll call us if they need to."

Two hours of sleep, no breakfast, lunch delayed, a world away from Los Angeles returned to the old world where I am like a child once again, dragged around to Mom's errands.

"Peanut?"

"No thanks, Mom."

But I wasn't a child anymore. I had lost all my baby teeth, earned my driver's license, and held a degree. I could drive anywhere I want, sleep whenever I wish and enjoy the free will to eat cookies in bed.

But in my world of teaching, paying rent and figuring out the dating and marriage question while having fun with friends for late night meals and laughs, I missed that a cloth of arrogance and ignorance covered me. I had forgotten that I really wasn't a grown up. The people my mother spent her time with on Sunday afternoons were the real grown ups reminding me that I was still growing up. They were several decades ahead of me on the game of Life.

“U-bi ca-ri-tas et a-mor, De-us i-bi est”

My mother was right. Mr. Rose loves to talk. Upon entering his home, the eighty something year old puts an orange in my hand.

"Si-mul er-go cum in u-num con-gre-ga-mur:
Ne nos men-te di-vi-da-mur, ca-ve-a-mus."

"It is very sweet." He says in greeting, smiles and then disappears to retrieve Mrs. Rose.

"Ces-sent i-ur-gi-a ma-lig-na, ces-sent li-tes.
Et in me-di-o nos-tri sit Christ-us De-us."

The altar is set up again on the kitchen table. The holy water in the Mary container, the crucifix balanced in a small glass and the communion wafers are in place by the time Mr. Rose returns with Mrs. Rose. He wears a blue button down shirt with stripes. He looks ready for a stroll along the beach. But the furthest he likes to go is his garden. He likes to be near his wife. Mrs. Rose takes her place at the table in a cheerful red and white cotton gown with blue and red flowers on her collar. She's lovely and is also wearing a touch of lipstick. She smiles and gives me a hug right away and I sit down gingerly with the orange still in my hand.

“U-bi ca-ri-tas et a-mor, De-us i-bi est”

Mr. Rose recited the Bible readings as well as shared his personal insights during the homily. Mrs. Rose sat serenely through the service while her husband played pulpit from a recliner chair. He was very comfortable sharing how he felt inspired and moved by the words of the good book. We would've enjoyed staying longer to listen.

"Si-mul quo-que cum be-a-tis vi-de-a-mus,"

"Pardon us, Brother Rose." My mother signaled the wise man on his easy chair, "We would stay longer but it is Mother's Day, my daughter is here to visit me and my sons for the weekend."

"Not to worry." Mr. Rose gave an understanding smile and thanked us for humoring his thoughts with him.

"Glo-ri-an-ter vul-tum tu-um, Chris-te De-us."

The visit with the Roses came to a close shortly after.

"Gau-di-um qu-od est im-men-sum, at-que pro-bum"

The candle was blown out, the altar put away, oranges in hand and hugs exchanged.

"Sae-cu-la per in-fi-ni-ta sae-cu-lor-um. A-men."

Mother's Day lunch was celebrated with my two brothers, my sisters-in-law, their mothers and mothers-in-laws, and my nieces and nephews by three in the afternoon. We got caught up in a traffic jam on the way due to road construction closures. It was a good thing I accompanied my mom to her commitment. We never lost track of time. We sat with time. And time crystallized itself to a profound memory.

The table was still being prepared when we arrived. Everyone was very hungry but very cheerful.

JNET

In The Stillness

Easter service began with a thirty minute meditation. That is, 30 minutes of SILENCE with the lights turned down while sitting quietly among 3000 souls. This can be extremely difficult for some people. How does one walk from a life that runs on sensory overload to sitting still?

In the silence, babies cooed and some cried. Most people were able to sit with their silence peaceably while others struggled with stifling coughs, habitual clearing of throats and knuckles and nervousness of not being subjected to a stimulus.

In the silence, life is no longer a spectator sport and one is challenged with whatever thoughts like to take free range of the clearing space. I had a moment where I chuckled because silence is so hard to create with 3000 people. But I also had many moments at being awed that over 3000 people were striving to create that space together.

In that space of 30 minutes, I found peace and awe... though in that very same space others ran their worries in their heads... worries like

Oh no, I'm going to get sick. Where is that baby? Someone should take that baby out of the room. What are we waiting for? Where's the pastor? Did something wrong happen? I don't like meditation. We don't need a silent period that is more than 5 minutes... ten minutes MAX!

It's funny what kind of things rush in the silence. Though I never personally heard any of these thoughts, I also did hear these thoughts. It's strange but perhaps it makes sense to you too.

Being in a quiet space is like visiting yourself as a child in bed, relaxing and thinking. I visited myself, tucked myself in, fluffed the pillows a bit and smiled at the "noise" around me.

It's funny what one hears in the silence.

JNET

The Voice of Reason vs. Buying Into Fear and Anger

We all have our gut feelings about things.

I tend to gravitate to voices of reason that are calm and leave choice without engendering negativity. Anti-movements versus pro-movements have different flavors. I'd rather attend to a talk where tapping into inner power is central versus a meeting where people gather to complain about the powers that be.

Complaining versus creating worlds of possibility....

I've scheduled meetings with colleagues to begin at 10pm or later and enjoyed brainstorming sessions with friends into the wee hours of the night.

Anyway, complaining tends to make me tired... something about it literally steals my wind. I tend to avoid complainers and stop my friends on their mindtrack of being stuck and taking me there to humor their misery.

Have you ran circles with a friend late at night on the phone and gotten nowhere except to understand that they were attached to their drama and wanted a new person to subsidize the drama with them? I don't give open accounts to emotional vampires.... not after learning from past bites.

Please bear with my preamble :)

So, here I am, just your friendly quirky girl next door. I come from a pretty good family that has survived some pretty nasty rollercoaster dramas that we manage to laugh about NOW... seeing "dysfunction" as a temporary breakdown of communication and not necessarily a permanent condition...

My mother is at church EVERY DAY doing rosaries and community work whereas these past couple of years I've chosen to spend my quiet time within myself (with God minus the building and community gatherings).

I enjoy visiting different spirit communities. To me, it's quite an artistic concert of intention. Having watched different orchestras and conductors as well as observing many music ensembles and their leaders, its always a pleasure to see the many ways that love and community is created.

So if rock speaks to you, don't complain at a Bach concert and try to make everyone as miserable as you. If a cappella music bores you after an hour, find what you're looking for. The world is full of drum and bass.

Perhaps, it is mean of me to think this way but the phrase... "if it's too hot, then get out of the kitchen." applies.

A person had left a comment on my mirror blog at blogspot. Given the chance to check out their own blog, I took it. And found an ANTI-OPUS DEI blog.

Of course I read through many of the entries... but I do most of my reading between the lines and this is what I came up with...

If a person declares themselves as a former member of 20 years, wouldn't they have some personal anecdotes or accounts to share? I've been writing for over two years on my blog and you'll read everything from parties with my friends, thoughts over my work and trips out of town. Any person can get a sense of who I am and see a bit of my life...

I am a bit wary of this "drake" whose anti site is very ONE-DIMENSIONAL having a wealth of links to other ANTI opus dei websites. This person "drake" has an obvious agenda but doesn't back it with at least a personal sob story... a personal anything for that matter.

Which led me to believe that the site was not a real BLOG but rather... an ADVERTISEMENT... or in this case... ANTI-ADVERTISEMENT.

I listen to voices of reason... and not advertisements to buy fear and anger.

JNET

Sacrifices for Growth and Greatness

I brought up the issue of "self-mortification" during my time with L, an Opus Dei member.

Let's define this "religiousese" word:

MORTIFICATION: the practice of asceticism by discipline to overcome desire and to strengthen the will.

Bearing sacrifice makes one not take for granted that which one aspires toward..a sense that one can overcome their desires and grow in strengthening one's will.

A dancer spends years of countless hours to develop grace and strength, bending their body in positions not natural yet making it look effortless after years of practice, a musician's technique is no accident... controlling independent fingers to be agreeable and expressive is not easy... and the writer, artist and athelete grows their greatness in the spaces of solitude. Conversations are exchanged for silence so that creativity has a clearing.

And so I understood, L's practice of "self-mortification" .... "small sacrifices" in order to grow self-discipline, mindfulness of the inner conversations, and appreciation of life by creating struggles to humble one from being attached to personal suffering. It's the lessons and creativity that one is embracing... not the "pain."

Without mindful focus on balance, the artist and athelete could injure themselves if they blindly allow ego to drive them into a maschoistic regime... and such mindfulness is required of spiritual exercise as well. A trained musician and a coached athelete knows which boundaries to push to challenge oneself.

The fruits of these sacrifices can be seen by what a person produces... is their life a work of artistry and excellence... or as the people of Opus Dei strive for... a work of God.

JNET

Opus Dei

For several years now, I've gone back and forth in my consideration for taking on a life of religious vocation.

G took me to visit with his sister in the Bay Area who is a numerary of Opus Dei and I was charmed by the sisterhood life that L is living. She is an optometrist and she lives with a diverse group of women that are the best of friends. There was a lot of laughter shared over a lemon meringue pie. Opus dei's philosophy of life is that the daily life is a "work of God".... therefore, being a great teacher, optometrist, college student, or homemaker can be lived to the gratitude and celebration of God.

L lives in a beautiful community and all the women; young and older are absolutely lovely people... inside and out. I asked my questions regarding the image that the book "The Da Vinci Code" creates about their organization and found it absolutely funny that a work of fiction has managed to create such distortion.

Is Opus Dei for me?

Opus Dei certainly has a certain appeal that contrasts with the ascetic life of a nun. Knowing myself, I know I am not a perfect fit for a cloistered Christian life. Not that I think that having a faith and being committed to its corresponding community is wrong or insular. It is due to their special commitment that the health of their spiritual community grows and thrives. They are a system of people that are essential but no better than other systems. Does a body think the nervous system better than the immune system?

L and her friends have found and created their home.

My place in this spiritual world is still under construction. I don't have a "name" for that home or a certain community that I belong to exclusively...

But I certainly consider life as an opportunity to celebrate and live as an "opus dei" a work of God. My champagne days continue toasting to the beauty and diversity of life.

JNET

"Leadershipis much more an art, a belief,
a condition of the heart,
than a set of things to do.
The visible signs of artful leadership are expressed,
ultimately, in its practice."

Max Depree

Adoring Albeniz

by NebulaskiN.

I planned on spending the weekend with Albeniz. I wanted to dig into Evocacion, a difficult piece that would demand that my head, heart and soul connect together... something that I have not had together in harmony for a while.

I began memorizing Cordoba as well and it felt good to feel it.

I adore Albeniz's music because it makes me think of the mathematician. It is what he plays for me on his guitar when I am with him as well as his own compositions.

If what we believe about the multi-dimensions of reality is true, then I want to believe that when I play Albeniz; the universe will tell him that I am saying hello to him. I don't know if it's romantic rubbish. I just know how he is and all I can do is trust it as he disappears into his work. Does he hear me in the subleties of his silent moments and thinks of me?

Meanwhile life has given me one heck of a road to travel and the lessons are challenging. Freedom and free will is quite a gift and I wonder how I might best navigate with the choices and take on the lessons with integrity.

I bring all things side to side to my defintions of truth and love and in the light of it I am looking for what makes me see God in the face of Life. I'm looking for that divine smile that I can feel in my soul. I know those moments of bliss, they teach me how wonderful life is and that i am never alone.

Sometimes it is not easy to see God's face in the path. I've been in a box trapped with my fears and insecurities. Welcome to the real world! God is for children and weak-minded adults! Get with the program, life is dirty and cold!

Welcome to the real world?

But that is only one strand of reality... and not a very powerful one to want to keep up in the game of life.

If I spend a day listening to Albeniz, Bach, Rachmaninoff, I only hear divine genius and it is enough for me to believe in heavenly realms. And that is another strand of reality; the beauty of genius.

And then I know life is also absolutely empty and meaningless and that it is I that is the definer and creator of my world. Welcome to MY world where notes, words, images, numbers are passcodes opening secret doors. Thinking, critical mass, opinions of reality, string theory, sophrosyne, conversations about God and Now, tipping points onto realms of heaven, love and devotion is the language of my kingdom.

I felt graced this weekend in resolving to connect to "higher power". From my silence and brokenness, my voice was heard and friends spontaneouly showed up at my door to say hellos and say that they missed me and wanted to share some time together.

It was a good time between Albeniz and friends. I was able to share not from tiredness and frustration... rather from a place where I felt like a ruler of my life again.

An American's Trip: The World as a Fair

by pinhole.

I had an interesting day this ... 06.06.06 day.

A colleague sent a "humorous" anti-Christian spam newsletter to me. It was a "Christian parent alert" for those that may have their baby on this day.

I wasn't amused.

"This is not what Christians believe. This newsletter is not a very funny joke. There is no "Red Sea Resort" and the whole premise of this spam is to poke fun at Christians."

I was a lucky receipient of "humorous" emails to celebrate 06.06.06.

"It's funny. And anyways, there are Christians like this..."

GOODNESS!! There are also serial murderers that are atheists. Why do we have to go extreme with the Christian image and lean on the radical NEGATIVE. I've never shared communion with someone like these crazed "Christians" that the popular media loves to pull out of the nether regions of America. Lest to say, I was hurt and wanted my colleague to know that the video was an awful representation of my brothers and sisters of faith.

"Well, as a Christian, I just wanted to let you know that I don't think this way nor any Christian I know. I don't go to church with anyone that is like this. This makes Christians look like ridiculous, insane and crass thinkers. It's bad enough there are people out there who believe "whatever" about Christians without considering personal experience. Personally, meaning their own... not some story that they heard from a friend"

Was I to consider staying quiet about my seeing a destructiveness in this "funny email?" I saw an indifference and irreverence for people in this email. I couldn't be apathetic.

I felt compromised. There I sat in the middle with my faith and I was being requested to keep quiet and be a loving and accepting Christian as I am supposed to be unconditional and yet be told that Christians were hypocrites for allowing injustice to exist and that they had no spine for making stands to save the world and were therefore responsible for what was wrong with the world.

I felt these expectations were destructive and unreasonable.

Christians are not cookie cut units of humanity. We are not uniform. We are as dynamic and unique as a family of people. We agree on points and disagree on some. We are humans using a system to make sense of our humanity and learning in the process of making good choices and bad choices, being confused, getting lost and finding one's way is LIFE. Some are fast learners and some are not so fast.

Somehow, if you are a member of faith or worst... a leader... you are expected to be a super-human by non-believers.

I felt tied to a standard of expectations for which I can easily be persecuted by a non-believer by any infraction from the "perfection" created by that person; their world of "shoulds." Even within my church community, I don't get should'ed upon for making my personal choices. It's a place where I have a voice and am encouraged to share my point of view to enrich the community with my perspective.

Perhaps it is safer to not make a stand for goodness? Is that better for society? Just to be on the safe side..... YOU KNOW!

Imagine a world without Martin Luther King, Jrs and Mother Theresas, Dalai Lamas and Gandhis...

The world to me is like this picture of people on a carnival ride. Everyone is having their own personal experience. I like that there are different religions and different denominations within those faiths. I like the diversity and the different flavors. What about the perspective that the diversity is beautiful and mysterious? Just when you thought the atom was uncuttable, you discover there are neutrons, electrons, which split into quarks and charms, which split into neutrinos, expressing new dimensions to think from...

Can it be that the complexity of expressions of faith follows that natural order of opportunities of multidimensional thinking??? Can spiritual expression and exploration be a carnival of experience that is available to us as choices?

Because the Mystery Exists

Daisy
by Sandra Mora.

A friend hinted to suggesting that perhaps some things should remain out of jnetsworld in order to remain part of a special and mysterious world.

I have my ways of keeping some things mysterious. I never post pictures of my love interests. But I do post about them.

Why? Won't it destroy the mystery and mysticism? To that I say what is there that can hurt what is transcendent? I write because I want to declare that the mystery exists. I write as if I've gone to a beautiful place and this is my log of the experience and the amazing people.

Not everything nor everyone is bloggable for jnetsworld. This blog was created to log the manifestation of a dream future and so the persons mentioned herein are very special.

It is my royal court... of dignitaries from other kingdoms that come to gift my life with their existence. I have great friends.. loyal friends. I am loved by people who are powerful and generous.

Writing does not destroy the mystery for me; it celebrates it.

And perhaps, it is my own way to say...

Thank you.... to the universe.

JNET

WORD UP: The Darkside of Christmas

I enjoyed being with my family. I enjoyed spending time with friends. Despite all the holiday cheer, laughs, food, and decoration, I still experienced a keen poignancy of sadness.

K calls it my artiste malaise. It laps against the shore of my faith. It's a strange place from where I find emotion come from... call it my reality... a foreign thorn that finds me grieving a world that I witness from a little corner.

Christmastime happens to be one of those holidays that has me sitting in this corner. Perhaps one day I'll reconcile myself with it and the holidays will make better sense to me but until then.. I am working on it and the day when I'll know how to claim it for myself.

Isn't Jesus the reason for the season? Isn't the spirit of Christmas about celebrating the birth of a savior king?

Yes.. yes.. of course... of course...

There are those intelligent ones that will bring up that December 25h isn't the real birthday and that the Christians had superimposed themselves upon what was once a pagan holiday to celebrate the winter solstice. And though it is refreshing to meet up with a consciousness that is not being taken with the wave of the masses so readily... it is not a good thing to meet with the smirkness on a reality that bends people out of shape.... or delights.

The tradition of trees in the house came from an early worship of the evergreens during winter for they were thought to have magical powers able to thrive in the snow and harsh weather. The twelve days of Christmas are a play on the winter festivals where people used to celebrate and party hard to punctuate the terrible weather with over-the-top fun... Animals were sacrificed and feasted upon and it saved on feeding another animal through a scarce season... Yule logs burned and people celebrated at the fire with lots of drink... and what was brought to the fire wasn't always animal...

We eat gingerbread men cookies as a reminder of the good ole secular days. A study of the way secular society celebrated in days gone shows how witch burnings came about. Coliseums cheering with people enjoying lions as they fed on the early Christians...and people of Israel...

It was an interesting idea to take on the winter festivals and tame them. The early Christian settlers had tried to outlaw the festival in an attempt to separate study of faith from secularized Christianity... but that is a hard ball to stop rolling... hundreds of years of Roman civilized ingenuity and traditional entertainment... It is like ending the Superbowl... some things that unite people are too pervasive to end...

My how we have evolved?

Indulgence has always been the spirit of these ancient festivals and the innocent were slaughtered to feed fires... literally and proverbially.

Will secular society triumph in diluting the faith community? The machinery had been set ages ago... Will the modern religion of fashion and hipness overtake the spirit of celebrating the new life of a forgiven life leaving the residue of wantoness, loneliness and guilt? Will expectations overtake action in healing society and jade us all eventually?

The dark side of Christmas is really about the dark side of our humanity that troubles me...a blindness that we don't articulate enough to search for light ... to create light.

The reason for living is to celebrate the light of the world that has been brought to us... an eternal reason to adore life and choose life. And that reason extends beyond December 25th and the season...

A long time ago, someone thought that it would be a good idea to bring that light to a dark side of our humanity... it is still a competiting dynamic...

I'll choose life... I'll choose God. I'll choose hope, peace and love... I'll have my sad moments knowing that ignorance and hate finds space to delight... But I won't ever offer myself as a sacrifice upon their Yule log.

JNET

WORD UP: Hope vs. Optimism

I attended church service today... I hadn't been all year due to my rehearsal schedule and I was happy to be part of the celebration.

I say "celebration" in response to people who confided in me that those who go to church are basically mindless sheep in need of validation and structure through conformity. A. stated that he believed people use and feel that they need church in order to feel connected to God.

I told A. that I saw his definition of church as very limiting because everyone I know at church knows for a fact that they can easily be connected to God at any given moment and given space of their choice. Access is not made available through church rather church is a place to celebrate everyone's access (relationship) with God.

Since when is it considered "mindless" to ponder one's existence, the meaning and gift of life and celebrate with people who have chosen to embark on similar journeys? And isn't it a good thing to consider one's relationship with self, soul and God over chasing validation in looking cool, trendy, perfect and having the right toys?

For a couple of hours on a Sunday, I can choose to sit with a diverse crowd teens and grannies side by side with someone with tattoos... surfers, geeks and trendies singing together and making the walls reverberate with song... black, brown, white, yellow gather without pretense only shared happiness... is the place I can choose to celebrate a couple of hours or go to the mall..... where every store or boutique is a box selling conformity in the name of style..

Church is the most anti-conformist place I know, a place where I have expressed my opinions and views freely... and never felt like people judged looks or age...

I find it most interesting that the ones with the most rigid opinion of what church is are the ones most to insist that they know everything and therefore needn't investigate the possibility that something other than their opinion may exist. Isn't expanding one's world through actual learning and experience immensely valuable? Is it being opened minded when you say that you know everything you need to know? How does one regard the opinion of a house if only the driveway and garage has been checked out?

MAYBE I've been looking in a different direction at church and perhaps missed the sheep sitting 10 feet away from me. I welcome being pointed out where the conformists-without-original-thoughts sit who are desperate and disconnected to life.

Where are all these "dead" people that I hear from people who refuse to attend church that they swear exist?

What kind of mythological thinking is that????

Anyway... I have a couple of things to share today.

Hope, specifically, "holy hope" was the topic today - distinct from optimism. We opened with a quote from Romans Chapter FIVE:

".... we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us."

Perhaps I can best describe optimism as a mindset and "holy hope" as a way of life that bends with the twists and turns of life... Optimism smiles and expects the best of all outcomes and holy hope smiles at the current moment and says that life is already exactly where it's supposed to be and where it is going will be perfect as well.

The sermon inspired a lot of thoughts for me to ponder...

Am I an optimist that lives life with a happy disposition expecting the best outcomes will arrive?
Or do I live from a place of holy hope where everything is beautiful and awe-inspiring already and yet the best is to come? What is my outlook on my current situations? Or is my focus on the future outcomes?

There are slight shades distinguished between the two...

Just some thoughts from a girl who enjoyed going to church today...

JNET

WORD UP: Choosing the Unknown

I woke up at 6:45am to complete my BSF homework. This week we studied Genesis chapter TWELVE, the story of Abraham... the beginning of God gathering a "nation" of people. Up until then, the post-Flood descendents of Noah had been scattering themselves about the region creating this and that civilization. And many of those civilizations created sophisticated societies of artisans, mathematicians, architects and leaders that worshipped in many creative ways..and ruled in sometimes ruthless ways (Nimrod) ... in order to further glorify the self as an indulgent tower of babelic ego, growing the self by the energy of others through force and conformity.

chapter twelve introduces Abraham, a non-conformist that has a relationship with god who is moved by literal divine inspiration to leave a very comfortable lifestyle in cosmopolitan wealthy Ur at the "mature" age of 75.

By "non-conformist" I mean someone who was going against what everyone was into and was getting a lot of grief and threat over it. Conformity is distinct from Solidarity.... one is driven by force the other is driven by choice.... one has space from disagreement... the other doesn't.

Now this is the time before there were Jews or a solid group of "God people." There had been those who had specific "spiritual" and "religious" experiences... and those believing folks of the Adam and Eve line weren't an official organization with temples and the like. They had the "family story" of the lost of Eden, a dragon on the lose with a mission for disillusionment, the opportunity of indulging runaway anger, and how exponentially anger and ego-driven self-interest grows a downward spiral into civilization....

leading to a proverbial FLUSH ....

The early forming of what was to become the nation of Jews seemed a bit on the tribal side for quite some time. God was a relationship from the very beginning...

other civilizations had gods to appease and indulge... I wonder if the insatiability of such as appetite is manifested by the glorious achievements of man that seem to get a bit tangly... the super civilizations of the early days built wonderful buildings and created sophisticated systems but yet drew source from darkness.

Why is there a "curse of the mummy" and not "curse of noah's ark"? It is interesting to me that miracle stories surround a certain group of believers and curse stories surround a certain history.

Abraham's popular society created attachment to idols and icons... he was known for breaking them. He didn't want anything to do with the silly hexes and charms. His father sold them for a living in Ur. If he kept quiet and just focused on the lucky charms maybe he wouldn't have made a nuisance of himself but he was getting busted. He was brought before the king and sentenced to death, Abraham wouldn't recant and miraculously survived the punishment.

Something "inside" "outside"... something "round about him" was telling him that it just didn't make sense. And that voice of God was not about being in the rank and file...

... where conformity, social politics and standing created security, God called Abraham to break himself from chasing the flows of power and to venture beyond what was a comfortable life into the unknown with trust and faith... He wasn't a slave and he wasn't going to be a slave of a mindless statuo quo. He didn't want to bow to a king he didn't believe in nor did he want to bow to a bon fire to hail that god lived in the fire.

Abraham was 75 when the voice told him to leave he possessions and country to trust that a life beyond imagination was available. He had been questioning the way things were for a very long time already and had just angered the king...

It was a good time to leave and live... how... he did not know.

One thing he was certain of was he was following "truth" as he knew it for the first time and he didn't feel bent out of shape over it. And his family must've sensed something out of Abraham's inspiration because they went along with him as well. Not a single one of them knew where they were going but Abraham just knew that they were listening to something too wonderful and mysterious to ignore.

How true is that for us today? Do we listen to something wonderful within us that drives our daily life? Or is it the voice of fear that nags our every thought?

Are we tapped into that higher source where confidence is a fruit and life can taste like a sweet adventure? Or are we holding onto symbols afraid to piss off the kings that we allow their rule?

Abraham was at odds living the life he had at Ur. Those odds brought him a final hand at age 75 when he finally "got it" and left. If he stayed, he had a predictable future... he would have to stop breaking the darn idols and shut up and watch his back. What kind of life is that?

He chose the unknown... he finally listened to the voice and heard it... and knew that it was too wonderful (and patient) to ignore... and he trusted that mystery and those around him were inspired to trust as well...

And the unknown becomes a wonderful realm to trust in.

JNET

WORD UP: Evolutions of Faithfulness

This past week's BSF study had me sitting at the table of thought for a while.

We rounded up our study of Genesis ONE through ELEVEN....as well as traveled in many spots of the Bible for thought-provoking snacks.

The journey of "faith" from the beginning of THE BOOK has inspired me to think of my own evolutions of awareness in growing up as a spiritual traveler. I thought I'd map out a few thoughts... maybe I'll learn something about myself and my life...

Faith in Eden -

A faith that understood simply out of love and obedience... simple and innocent...a place where everything is beautiful and perfect... It's a faith that delights in intention that is unassuming and accepting.. where coloring life can be about the blue crayon or the purple crayon and you didn't need to draw within the lines.. A faith that simply expresses by being...

Also such innocence is vulnerable to the blue-crayon despising dragon who likes to tell stories of how IT (LIFE) really is... making one to fidget under the sheer cover of naivete.

The Faith of Abel... Enoch... Noah

Without a manual to connect to the God frequency, there were those who made a stand to listen, live and follow closely to instruction written to hearts celebrating relating... faith that is stalked by dark shadows... faith that envelops and transfigures... faith that withstands uncertainty, fears, and ridicule

Faith is not just knowing, not just believing..

It is a profound action and way of being that opens doors beyond imagination.

A particular verse that struck me this week during our study:

1 John 3:2... allow me to paraphrase...

Dear friends, now we are children of God,
and what we will be has not yet been made known.
But we know that when God appears, we shall be like God,
for we shall see God as God is

Faith in not just knowing, not just believing... it is transforming... and it has my imagination going wondering what it will be like...

What will WE be like..

that "has not yet been made known"

Interesting..

JNET

Word Up: Building Security in Towers of Conformity

This week's BSF study covered Genesis chapters TEN and ELEVEN.

A ruthless ruler, a militaristic forceful king... his name meant "let us rebel".. the mighty Nimrod... was a descendent of Noah's spiteful son who had attempted to create family dissension in the after-the-flood early days.

Genetically transferred anger? A bitter disposition aged and fermented? Nimrod had might, skill and political acumen and knew how to play on another's fears and weaknesses and he was honored for his ambitious appetite for power. Many gave allegiance to the imposing Nimrod for who can ignore that he had power and influence as well as lead a flourishing civilization... It perhaps would not have been a good idea to go against his agendas.

And so this week we read about the Tower of Babel, the magnificent project that would reach for the sky to bring man shoulder to shoulder with God. Babel meant "gateway to a god." The mighty nation wanted to make a name for themselves and not be scattered over the face of the earth. They weren't building a tower to say hello to God; they were proclaiming that they were above God. This was not a matter of national pride; it was arrogance and domination. And a powerful kingdom with wealth, a military force, great architects, and a king that wanted to be a god couldn't be swayed from such ambition.

I read a little on the history of a "military state" paradigm and found what a clever way to build a powerful society. I was curious how such unity among the people can be created.

If you were a little boy born to a military state, you can kiss your mommy goodbye when you turned seven. You would then move to a barracks where you will be trained to be strong, aggressive, and compliant... basically you would be raised to be a submissive OX trained to listen and follow orders. You would be fed well as a sophisticated beast of burden for imperialistic purposes and you will not be freed to pursue your personal interests until after 30.

The women of a military state would enjoy more freedom. You would need to be fit so that you can produce healthly strong babies for the nation that you called home. If you gave birth to a dodgey baby, it would be taken out of the city and left to die.

The great human enterprise of building the Tower of Babel wasn't only a tribute to national pride but also conformity... The story brought to my mind the fine line of defining unity. What is solidarity? What is conformity? Where is there choice? Where is there freedom of thought?

From a perspective, we see ambition shooting for the heavens with a fanfare of arrogance.. "Come let us build ourselves a city, with a tower that reaches to the heavens, so that we may make a name for ourselves and not be scattered over the face of the world."

But from a higher perspective God saw a city rise like a dollhouse. The tower was not a mountain, a sunset, a new planet. The tower was ambitious but not awe-inspiring..

It seems that this powerful society was a bit insular by its pride and maybe ruled heavy-handedly.

And so God threw and spanner in the works... saying...

"Come, let US go down and confuse their language so they will not understand each other."

Again... "US" intrigues me.. God is not a singular and simple entity.. And so conformity was thwarted... orders could not be issued nor followed and the people dispersed throughout.

Confusion here was a good thing and created a truer gate toward God and thinking than could have been provided by the power and force of man.

JNET

Word Up: Delighting in Another's Mistakes

Chapter NINE of Genesis brings us to an interesting story of Noah, a farmer, planting a vineyard and enjoying the fruits so much that.... ooops... he got a little bit silly.

Last week's discussion was too valuable to not blog. How many people make mistakes? How many people witness another's mistakes? A mistake is a moment. I think it is most interesting how things play out from a mistake... and it is the story afterward that effects lives much more.

Good people make embarrassing mistakes sometimes.

Good Noah was called by the grace of God, a righteous man. We didn't get a dossier of Noah's good deeds and attributes as an introduction to Noah... rather we read that Noah found favor in God's eye. What does that mean?

I liken it to finding a friend... that initial spark that shines when you find someone that resonates with you that makes you look forward to getting to know them. You WANT to get to know them... because you think they are alRIGHT... RIGHTEOUS.

I think God knew that Noah .. though not perfect.. had a good and committed heart.

And good and committed people sometimes make mistakes... Noah wasn't the party type but he certainly over-indulged... much to the delight to his youngest son who chose to broadcast his father's moment of weakness to his older brothers.

The older sons found their father in a compromising "after-party pose" and immediately covered their "uncovered" father. When Noah finally woke up and found out what his youngest son did, he was VERY unhappy.... furious.

In class we wondered if Noah's reaction was a bit over the top...

Well considering that Noah was 600 hundred years old; his youngest son was no baby boy... considering that they have just lived through so much devastation together; his son wasn't exactly building unity by broadcasting his father's moment of weakness.

"Hey big bro... pop's not so righteous... right now he's a naked drunk in his tent. Wanna see?"

If you can't make a mistake and be covered by your OWN FAMILY .. what kind of world can you create? Chapter NINE wasn't about covering dsyfunctional behavior; it was about covering a loved one's moment of shame and embarrassment.. a moment that wasn't a big deal at all...

Except to the one that had been waiting for it.

The heart of that youngest son wasn't in the right place and he thought he found a moment of victory in his father's moment of weakness, wishing to disqualify his father's credibility.

To delight in the mistakes of another exposes less about the mistake and more about the person who likes to talk about the mistake.

What would the world be if we could be more conscious in supporting good things to happen rather than giving air time to downfalls?

JNET

Word Up: Making Sacrifices

This week's BSF study covered Genesis chapters EIGHT and NINE...

I read a lot on new beginnings this past week as I contemplated the new beginnings of my life.

Noah's world must've been quite surreal.

Life seems that way to me many times. Being open to possibility means being welcome to spontaneity and change. Lately that door to the life unknown has compelled me to travel new corridors. This year has certainly had me engaged in activity and opportunity.

I may not have experienced devastation and floods but my personal setbacks of this past year's life drama and adventure has brought me to the same place Noah stood in chapter EIGHT.

An altar.

A place to stand and recognize the power of God and understand grace. And I find that this place where I stand to live, to create, becomes the space where constant offering brings a constant beginning.

We discussed what types of offerings there are...and what would life be like in choosing to live a life that offers "sacrifices to God."

I think if deflated of the spirit of my passion and inspiration.. or taken from the cornerstone of spirit, I'd be a pretty darn lazy daisy baby. Maybe I'd live a very safe and predictable life shaped by insecurity and doubt... apathetic.

That's what life might feel if I didn't choose to live out my offerings of creativity in music and expression, my offering of my humanity; my brokenness and my wholeness, my offering of my world and all the loved ones that make for living stones of a spiritual house.

In living a life of constant offering, I experience a constant beginning; a constant newness. The setbacks of yesterdays becomes a mere prologue to an adventure of learning and experience. And I choose to celebrate being alive in the mystery of life. Life is like a dream... or maybe life is a dream in the creating.

It is a choice to be at the altar of life. It is a choice to create it. It is a choice to make an offering.

JNET

WORD UP: Splish Splash

This week in BSF, we dove into The Flood story of Genesis Chapter SIX.

I found it fascinating that there are many flood stories splashing the lore of many cultures and countries. And in each flood story, total destruction happens to obliterate a corrupt civilization, a family of 8 members are spared, divine directions are given and animals are saved as well. INTERESTING.

If Noah survived a universal flood, it would make sense that others might've been given instruction to survive it as well and create the flood story of another corner of the world. It took Noah 120 years to build the ark (in the middle of the desert). He could've walked if it was to be a local flood. He might've favored it at moments as his neighbors had a go at making a new Noah joke.

120 years to build an ark the size of one and a half football fields. Noah must've been quite driven and focused building that baby. I wonder what everyone was thinking when the line-up of animals began appearing from far and wide. How could they not believe something was up then? Anyone who's been to a sold out concert and did the line time knows the anticipation and excitement...especially if everyone is peaceably not fighting and eating each other. The lions and tigers and gazelles and giraffes together. Talk about a Rainbow gathering.. the very first hippie event hosted at THE ARK.

Anyway. The rain finally began for 40 days and 40 nights. This put to shame any hurricane or tsunami this earth has ever experienced. Here's the details from chapter SEVEN of genesis.

"The springs of the great deep burst forth"
"The floodgates of the heaven opened"
"The waters rose and increased greatly"
"All the mountains were covered"

Los Angelenos panic when it rains. We rarely see the stuff. To see what Noah experienced must've been humbling and horrific. After 40 days, he remained on that ark for another year to wait as the water subsided.

On the shallow end of the pool this week, I waded through the conversation of being committed despite scorn and other people's doubts. Laps around the Noah pool showed me that my version of patience and faith is lite. 120 years of preparation.. 120 years of God showing patience and a door to a future to a mocking generation. On the deep end of the pool, I got that God is extremely patient and will give guidance and direction to the faithful that take the time to listen.... and continue listening despite teasing, being misunderstood, and not being able to convey through such a hard-heartened time and people that something awful was to happen...

JNET

WORD UP: Walking With God

This week's BSF study was over Genesis Chapter Five.

I found it encouraging especially after yesterday's nightmare experience. I was able to "catch up with myself" and put my fears aside and actually breathe again with God. Completing my homework this morning, I found myself back on track.

I was inspired by one specific person of the Bible's many run-downs of lineages and that person is Enoch who "walked with God and then was no more because God took him away.

Enoch was known to all as someone of great faith and I can only imagine how everyone felt when they noticed that he was missing. Where IS he? Why is he missing? How can he be missing?

He and God were pretty tight that I'm sure everyone was amazed when they finally got it (after they freaked out).... that Enoch was plucked from his earthly existence without experiencing death as everyone on the genealogy list did. No one can say that he died on such and such day... He was the one that made family story time mysterious and full of awe. And folks lived pretty long back in the day to pass a story down. Remember the day "Uncle Enoch" disappeared in thin air??? A somber hush would follow... OOOHHHH yes.

It didn't create a family upset because Enoch's son was the longest living person in the Bible... Methuselah.. 969 years. Enoch chose an interesting name for his son. It meant "judgment will follow at the end of his life"... The flood came soon after his death.

We studied a few sections of genealogies this week and made note of the changing spans of longevity as time went on further away from the days of Adam. People lived less longer as time went on. With that, my imagination takes flight....

If it's been said that we don't use own modern brains to full capacity, is it possible that we don't communicate, relate, listen, talk to God in full capacity? Are we walking with God at a slower rate? Have we placed so much in between the gap of who we are in our human experience and God? Are we relating to God in first gear only? Where would we take our lives with God if we drove full throttle? Have we lost some sophistication of spirit over the generations? What ways of relating have we lost along the way?

These will be my questions to put to my group today at Bible study. I'm looking forward to my crazy intense life... I woke up from a nightmare yesterday but I walked straight to God with my thoughts and fears. Nightmares... stories of stress and troubles are distractions from the promises of God that we can have today and everyday. We...our illusions of ourselves separate us from our true identities and joy of life.

Yesterday, I had a nightmare. I analyzed it and created power from it. I didn't want to give any credit to the dragon.

I don't belong to the dragon. I belong to God.

Today, I woke up in the clouds.

If you are interested in checking out a BSF class in your area. Check out their website. It's an international study and every first week of the month, guests may come in and check out a class. Register yourself in if it suits you.

JNET

WORD UP: Where's My Props?? Validate ME!!

This week's BSF concluded the downward spiral of THE FALL. Genesis Chapter FOUR.

Eve chose to gain knowledge under the advice of a crafty nimkampoop who didn't deserve the time of day. Temptation in itself is not a sin but giving space for it to manifest at newer levels is....

Was she terribly hungry and there wasn't anything else available? Hardly. Yet she rationalized that it looked good for food. Was she in the desert and the tree was the only thing to look at.. the only beautiful thing to bring joy to her eyes? No, yet she went against her best judgment saying it was pleasing to the eyes.. Did she feel cheated in the school of life and that she was being treated as a second rater in paradise? ....she desired the wisdom and she was willing to accept it from the dubious, beguiling crafty creature.

She could've told it to "buzz off" and keep its gibberish to itself.. But no. She took the bait and also took her nearest and dearest Adam down with her for the count.

And thus was born the need for psychotherapy!

Conscious of guilt, a new habit was born; escape mechanisms. They could've admitted their guilt but they hid. They lost all sense of their self and the relationships they enjoyed up until then... they were filled with fear and insecurity and filled with angry blame. Instead of owning responsiblity, they played hot potato.

So the serpent founded a new game with the powerful and passionate emotions the hated humans had... as much as humans had the capacity for intellectual pursuit, creative passion and profound relationship; their emotions were malleable. Humans can be bent out of shape. They can be fed the illusion that they are alone, isolated and not loved enough.

This week we discussed Cain... the serpent's next pawn.

His brother, Abel, made an offering of the firstborn of his livestock. Cain made an offering of vegetables and fruits. Abel's sacrifice was acceptable and Cain's was not and Cain took it as a personal rejection and went to sulk over it alone.

I doubt God told Cain that he sucked because after Cain left obviously upset, God went to check on him later on. Seeing Cain yet miserable over something that has come to pass, God asked.. "Why are you so downcast?"

Cain had no answer, maybe he shrugged and played the "I don't know" game.

So God comes to listen Cain out and Cain is stuck in his head so God warns that Cain is making himself vulnerable by brooding so much and that Cain ought to master his emotions lest sin masters them for him.

Cain decides on a brilliant idea to kill his brother to feel better... playing the "kill the competition" card. God comes over as asks where Abel is and Cain says smugly that he is not his brother's keeper. Whew! What a handful of attitude from the firstborn of Adam and Eve.

God punishes Cain by separating him from his family and putting him east of Eden to wander to be the rootless independent person that he wanted so much to be. He could've had some remorse for murdering his brother but he didn't have it. He could've developed some remorse later on in his life... but the story of Cain doesn't go that way...

Cain lived to glorify himself and had the "look out for number ONE" attitude and he parented that attitude in the generations that came from him. The civilization that rose from his lineage created "fathers" of invention and the arts. Achievement was the modus operandi and boasting of one's self... and murder continued to justify getting rid of people who crossed one's path the wrong way and was bragged about.. One's of Cain's descendents was so proud of his murdering someone that he wrote a poem to glorify it.

Wow.. and I thought Eve was misled. Cain, the first fruit, of Eve's new fallen life couldn't seem to find his track. Maybe he was the "crack baby" after the forbidden fruit infusion. Maybe he was a sin addict and at first tried to keep himself under control but after a while, the monkey was just riding his back like King Kong.

As painful as Cain's thoughts were to him, he had God by his side for a while to work things out with but he opted out of that option. Cain's baggage was an illusion that kept him from feeling connected and judging from the way his life continued when he was creating his life the way he wanted without God, the appetite for kudos was endless and destructive.

You can't create security from a place of insecurity... and insecurity is an illusion.

JNET

WORD UP: Living to Learn, Learning to Live

This week's BSF study continues to engage my imagination...

So how did we get from utter bliss to running around scared covered in shame and a fig leaf?

No more days at the park, catergorizing, and getting to know the animals to name them, gone were the days of daily being in the presence of a joyful artist and creator, and gone were the days when you looked at your beloved with a sense of profound joy for out of the abundant yet lonely wilderness, someone who inspires and understands you finally speaks and you realize the beauty of humanity; yours and theirs.

Instead, days are burdened. There is no time for parks and paradise and the animals that you once named, studied, and cared for are killed for food or kept at safe distances so that they don't eat you. And as for your beloved, you yo-yo from sanity to insanity. The carefree days of abundance are now stressed out days of trying to keep things together... You struggle for inspiration and understanding and it's hard to imagine delighting over your own humanity let alone your beloved's.

But hey, you have your good days and you have your bad days.

Paradise is complicated in its simplicity anyhow.. Living in peace, harmony, enjoying a new day to learn, gets boring. And thinking.. takes energy.

Genesis chapter 3 always fascinates me and blogging my thoughts allows me to linger over some things a little more before I take on next week's homework.

Two special trees.. a tree of life... a tree of immortality? and the famously forbidden tree of knowledge of good and bad. Was it a set-up? I can't say that it was a set up.. every game has rules to play by and we don't get upset over those rules. Upsets usually occur when someone doesn't believe in playing by the rules...

Was it the fruit.. did it unleash ominous powers? No, Eve, though misguided.. did have some naughty intentions. She had EVERYTHING and yet she was curious about the one thing that was off limits. Now that kind of appetite is what got her in trouble and talking to a spectacular looking crafty creature that had a knack for taking things out of context and making her confused wasn't a good move in the end.

I had to think of the Eve in me... were there any forbidden trees that were taxing my attentions and was I hanging out with toxic crafty creatures? Do I place myself in situations that might compromise my bit of daily paradise?

Yes. I did have an unusual day in my piece of paradise recently....

Adam (my mathematician) has been busy with his little corner of Eden when a beautiful and compelling creature came by to say hello.

I didn't fall for the fruit joke. The tempting creature modulated their tactics and the intellectual exercise to overcome emotion was quite a game.

The creature spoke into my insecurities, knowing me very well. The creature was very subtle yet aggressive; intelligent. Knowing that I was not stupid and having an opportunity to flaunt their cleverness, the creature delighted over their moves like a game of chess. A conversation that had little wisps to pull at my insecurities and graceful wisps that spoke to my desires and my values... even...

Eve's downfall was not by a bulldozing coarse creature... she was tempted by a friendly sounding eloquence that spoke to a clear space marked for her baggage...

Maybe she wondered if the fruit was really deadly and wanted to test God and check out if God was going to come in and save her at the last moment... maybe she didn't believe that consequences would follow and maybe she wasn't thinking at all and just let the creature run the show while she went with "the flow."

In the end, it's not the tempting fruit that marks downfall rather it's the thinking or not thinking that surrounds it.

I am happy with the paradise that is my life and I didn't let myself get pulled in by a sense of lacking and scarcity.. I am able to see and value what I have and not be driven by what I don't have. And I was able to recognize that I was speaking with a crafty creature because they didn't really care about how I thought or felt --- the conversation became about how they can persuade me to think and feel in a certain way to get the results they were vying.

If you don't think... someone else will happily do the thinking for you. And that truly will mark the death of one.

Funny, how one gains wisdom by NOT eating of the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and bad.

JNET

WORD UP: Innocence In Paradise

This week's BSF study brought some interesting thoughts to mind. I found it immensely interesting and somewhat amusing when we came upon the Adam and Eve being naked question.

Why were they not ashamed?

I decided to bear my thoughts :)

A life that is without pretense and fear of judgment is a life without the weight of insecurity. It was natural to be naked... and transparent. Being real on more levels than the physical... that is my take on paradise.

Genesis as well as many parts of the Bible presents God as a loving designer; an artist with intention who places his most beloved creation in a garden with lots of fruits and vegetation for food and animals and wild life for company (not food). The Genesis story represents man's origins in paradise; a place of peace to commune directly with a loving power.

Fastforward to our beautiful modern world where the modus operandi of the human strata is to reduce man, belittle his ideas, encourage habits of self-destruction on a physical and spiritual level... create ways of thinking to discourage boundless ways of thinking and limit possibility... and elevate the self on an on-going game of one-up-over-you.

and we find ourself so far far away from paradise.

We don't only do this to one another. We do this to ourselves.

A life that is abundant can be dashed with a single thought...

In the garden where there was plenty of food from the plants and trees, there were also two special trees that were unique and singular: the tree of life and the tree of knowledge of good and evil. These two trees were NOT replicating baby trees of knowledge making little forests of trees of life. These trees were to not to be eaten from... as an exercise of choice toward obedience.

A woman shared something to bring the relationship of the forbideen trees to modern light...

She shared that her life was good. She had a wonderful family and life to enjoy but sometimes in her pursuit of a better life and perfection she would get stumped by some singular detail and that she would find herself distracted. And despite the current blessings her life was provided with, she would find herself unhappy about something that she wanted to make under her control and it was that "branch" of thought that would blind her from the life she had.

With that thought, I wondered if I had any trees in my life that distracted me from the paradise that was available to me. Thoughts are powerful things that can create as well as destroy. And I don't want my ignorance nor arrogance in thinking to undermine me to a distracted life that loses sight of the what I have before me.

The innocence of paradise is not about ignorance which is sadly equated to bliss. A distracting lie. Perhaps the innocence of paradise is the awareness and openess of trust which creates in loving relating a nakedness that is free of shame and insecurity.

I can enjoy this way of being in my relationship with God, my family and my friends. Where insecurity comes up, I'll think of the tree and the temptation to want to take a fruit that is a lie. You can't be fed security if you come from a place of insecurity.

JNET