Tag Archives: faith

I Hope!

Hope is a double edge sword tempered by fear and sharpened by faith. It matters not what we know, or learn, or experience. It only matters that we feel we deserve the possibility of brighter days and calmer nights.
Tempered emotions see through feelings of doubt. It’s the trepidation that guide each step silently through the crowds of reality. Desolate figures strewn throughout rubbles streets boil grease slicked water for a blessing.
Looking for a sign through hundred yard stares, hoping, not sure whether the sun is beating down on your back or shine down on your life. Then rain washes away the doubt leaving you shivering with the reality that hope is lonely.
Lonely in a sea of faces and exhaust that pollute the air revealing your soul in grey shadows on graffiti drawn walls. Your thoughts dwell behind the fragmented words that leap off the wall with anger. How can you lose hope to the point anger is soothing.
In this twisted state of emotion you sit in the filth of one hundred souls shedding their spirit for noodles and a God who gives that one chance to cleanse your soul and stand tall in the face of poverty.
It’s not the grime or the hunger that hides hope. It’s not the clothes or the state that sees hope is possible. It’s the mind that says “one more step is a step closer to something, and something id better than nothing”!
I hope!

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Free Spirit

I choke on plastic words creating packaged sentiments of empathy or condolence. Lies slither through cracks in the walls of closets and basements like smoke through an open window. Where do you live in a reality where nothing is real.

To know the truth but carry it buried in the pocket of a smoker wrapped in wolf’s bane for fear of it catching wind. For fear that the others will know and suddenly the scrim will melt away like embers in a moonlit breeze. What would we say, now naked and free, no cloaks to hide our intent. How would we continue without truth layered in embers, but blazing with glory in the dark of night.

These facades have taken on a life of their own trapping us within characters we no longer recognize, but can’t escape. Trapped, breathing though porous masks that suffocate a souls yearning to be free, dying to be released. Is death our only truth and birth no more than awakening to contrived realities dished out in plastic stages of development for the benefit of the play.

We fear nature for its truths. We hide in clothes, houses, and careers dreaming of freedom from it all. We dream of The freedom to be wild and human, compassionate and forgiving in a world without lies.

We fall to our knees looking up to a God who doesn’t recognize us because we hide beneath layers of decay for decades serving a different purpose. A faint pulse beats under a black heart starved of the blood and air nature demands. No one hears the rhythm or feels the life that screams to be judged.

I can no longer breathe the air that’s so polluted with purpose and intent I gag with each breath through constricted lungs. How can I free my soul to meet my spirit before the last breath leads me to a land promised by a bat wearing a doves feathers. I want to live before I die.

I want to overcome the clothes I’ve been given to wear as a child that fashioned my tunic for another mans dream. I want to overcome banners and parchments that hang on dilapidated walls and rusted poles. These shackled dreams of men kept me from wandering free where my God would show me mercy and resolve like Job and his ashes.

I have faith that though I was removed from God at birth I can feel His presence in the absence of the humanity I reside. Everything here is gray and steel, stale and stagnant like ponds of nuclear waste in a forest of deciduous trees permanently dormant. It’s the distant shrill of one lone cardinal that affirms my hope.

My banners are fabric, my honor is defined by laws, and my faith stands alone surrounded by lies. I am made to think. My places of worship have locks and flood lights illuminating signs with catchy slogans selling faith for tithes. It is in the wilderness where truth awaits, where God reveals his majesty, not within rooms decorated for posterity. A forest of mirrors reflecting man’s arrogance and contempt for God’s power and presence is just a step away.

So now I live outside myself. For my body may be imprisoned in this nightmare, but my mind is free to travel the earth searching for a handshake or a hug with the warmth of blood.

My hood drawn loose I walk narrow paths avoiding the noise and smoke from distant fires. My path is lit with the spirits of those gone before me. The spirits of men who walked alone with the weight of the world on their mind. I see with my heart and listen with my mind for signs of life, but the world is static and I was born robbed fluid.

Charismatic and Atheist

Truth doesn’t make me a Christian, faith make me a Christian. Wether it’s true or not that Jesus walked on water, I have faith that the lesson He would want me to take away from that story isn’t about His majesty, rather that I will sink when I let my faith sink. Christ died on the cross for my sins. I will never have a video or physical evidence. Which is the point after all. My faith gives me hope, and that pertains to life, not just spirituality.

I hear atheist and charismatics harping on the supernatural nature of religion. One side mocks God when a tragedy occurs, while the other side takes annual pilgrimages to bleeding trees. Faith is not knowing, it’s hoping with trust. Hoping with confidence that you can live up to the ideal of Christ. This faith has nothing to do with religion, religion is power, faith is spirituality. They are different and that’s what is unique for me about Christians.

There is a movement in the world to tarnish the Christian faith. The folks who are behind this movement, the followers who buy into it, and the Christians contributing to the narrative don’t understand its religion that they’re referring to. Christ wasn’t religious, he was spiritual. Christians do miraculous things daily for folks around the world they don’t know, nor will they ever meet.

Folks ask questions about why God lets tragedies occur. Some even go as far as to mock Christians for turning to God within tragedies they perceive He let occur. We hear statements like, “Where was God when this or that tragedy occurred. It’s cynicism as a tactic to create doubt, but we’re taught about doubt with Thomas.

God doesn’t direct our lives to ensure outcomes. Faith wouldn’t exist if we didn’t have free will. It’s within these tragedies we learn that our world has evil and it can never win if we keep our faith. We can’t be a Christian and know, that’s ridiculous, there’s no room for faith in that world.

Christians are leading the way in separating themselves from religion. The Old Testament provides us with many stories that have messages on how to live together. The New Testament gives us the hopeful message of Jesus and examples of how to maintain faith in turmoil. These stories aren’t instruction manuals for the supernatural.

So don’t come at with “pray about it”, or sarcastic comments about how God let’s bad things happen. God wants me to act on my transgressions and atone. Not sit around hoping a prayer is gonna make things right. He doesn’t control my life, He gave me free will and human nature, he knows my heart. So if you’re an atheist or charismatic Christian running around talking about Christianity is magic, I probably won’t see you later. Don’t pray about it either, do something about your misleading intentions.

Thoughts on truth and knowledge

Every stroke of the pen brings me closer to the realization that thought is the pathway to all peace. The rigors of survival require ingenuity and fortitude. The constant nature of thought within empty spaces of freedom, untethered to the directed realization that thrive on mutual ignorance, protect us from disaster.

It’s alone where ideas are bold and independent. Consensus is for the weak. To dilute your thought with the intention of others is to rob the world of truth. This is not to say we should reject or dismiss the value of opinion; we shouldn’t concern ourselves with the response to our thought. Great thoughts are validated by time.

Boldness is not a character reserved for the warrior. The thinking man must attack his ideas with the same doggedness as an individual in a life and death battle. These warriors, of words or war, don’t protect their victories or care how they survived, they move on to the next battle with their lessons in hand.

We, citizens of the world, are in a battle with no armor or weapons. There’s a war being waged against our philosophical sense like none in history. An organized offensive that challenges our base of knowledge using opinion and persuasion to attack and infiltrate our sense of what it means to be human, spiritual, and patriotic. They wish to define your thought, direct your thought for their own financial and philosophical profit.

This is the critical hour for critical thinking. We need an Army of thinkers to launch a barrage of thought onto a field of dreamers. Wake up the sense of the common man against the well funded army of idiots using entertainment as a research laboratory for imaginary subjects creating imaginary truths.

Truth stems from reality, not vice versa. Only those brazen enough to blind the masses believe otherwise. Reality doesn’t change and truth relies on this priori path of circular enlightenment. Questioning truth is fundamental. Validating those questions leads to knowledge. However, the question is where the work begins, and just because you have an answer doesn’t mean you have a truth.

The warriors who hold truth must continue to rule while the dreamers challenge reality. It can’t be the opposite or compromise. It must be the rigors of true knowledge that lead us. This does not mean we stifle thought like an oppressive beast of ignorance. Free thought has value, like speculation, or fantasy.

I’m looking for those stalwart minds that stand firm on the grounds of truths. Those minds that evaluate consensus and speak up for realities within the truths of our times. Too many minds have been computerized into submission. Merely aping responses without thought are the fortitude to test what they’ve regurgitated.

We are a world within ourselves capable of creating within the constructs of our environment. We are capable of hypothesizing possibilities within and outside of these constructs. We are capable of destruction as well as construction if we lack the adherence to basic principles as protections from dreamers and mad men.

There are a myriad of examples of great thinkers whom we learned much from. However, if we would have followed them into the path of illusion we surely would live in a crueler world, Nietzsche comes to mind.

There are great ways to think and great thoughts. There are simple ways of thinking and simple thoughts. We can learn from each of these if knowledge and truth are our honest pursuits. You are what you think so protect your senses with a heart towards humanity.

Walking with Him

Christ is our personal example because he loved humans enough to confront their faults with empathy, but most of us are blinded like children to the magic of the story.

I loathe these flocks of station that reduce our Savior to a miracle or moral to support their claims to privilege. They minimize Christ in their denominational divisions with an air of spiritual superiority that transcends hypocrisy. Christ is freedom because he was free.

He had no church. He despised the temple and what it had become; and he was at odds with the religious leaders of the times because he saw through their hypocrisy. Why would we think he would view today’s church in any other manner?

Christ didn’t carry a Bible, he was the New Testament. A testament to love, forgiveness, and selfless virtues. He didn’t fear opposition, he welcomed it with words of wisdom. All we have today is the dizziness of orators offering interpretations based on ideologies competing for tithes. What Jesus received, was received for others, through him we were blessed.

Today, maybe more than ever, our body is our temple. Our bible is kept at home for a reason. Build your temple on His life and you can’t go wrong. You don’t need another man to tell you to love and respect others. You don’t have to be part of any group to offer a hand up. All you need is to feel the humanity that Jesus highlighted and appended your mind, heart, and arms to the world.

I’ve seen His spirit in many people. Some through their acts, others through their words. Ive seen this with my own heart. So those of you selling faith can walk on by, because my mind is open to a world of wonder where my heart can roam free and my arms can embrace people who are mired in religion. You can’t “walk with Jesus” sittin in a pew!

Places and Spaces

I can see things, not with my eyes, with my heart and soul. This is a place where feelings rule and pictures are secondary. A place where the sand is more than a beach.

I can feel things, not with my hands, with my being. This is a place where the wind is suspect and memories Pail in comparison. A place where feelings leave emotions behind.

I can sense things, not with my mind, but with my spirit. This is a place where my being is touched by the past alerting me to the future. A place where the present is only where I stand and my spirit conspires with my soul to take me other places.

These spaces are a moment. A moment of tranquil confidence and now doesn’t exist. A place for dreams to flirt with reality making Heaven a possibility.

Of the earth

Your words stretch across the plane of my existence echoing sentiments like sand or grit through an hourglass with no minutes.

Your parched beliefs leave your tongue swollen in your throat. You can’t speak intelligently choking on your dried up saliva dangling from cracked bleeding yellow lips. Your thoughts wheeze like a dying mans babble.

The sun beats down on your back like a molten hammer as the hot winds refuse to change. Perspiration turns to salt like snowflake as it flies from your hair swaying with exhaustion.

But you will never secede the ground that swallows you whole. Sucking the life out of you And everyone close to you. You’re in desperate need of a mirror to see the damage you’ve inflicted upon your soul, but you proudly worship the mirage that lucidly shimmers ahead of you, knowing the path ahead is futile.

I pray you’ll taste the bile and purge your soul of ignorance. You’re not a moth bound to a light that will kill you. Let go of the gaseous dreams that keep you walking towards death like its heaven on earth. Find the shade, drink from the fount, and rest your soul to nourish your mind.

Step away from the vast desert of waste, you’re not trash to be discarded, you’re human. Feelings are good. You’re the salt of the earth!