Monday School

Monday school unit: Little People, Big Messages: the kids of the Bible and what we can learn from them.

Boy with loaves and fishes (John 6)

This was written from the perspective of the little boy.

You would think that my parents would get tired. Every year, we travel to Jerusalem to celebrate the Passover. Sand, walking. Walking, sand. Sand, walking. When I was smaller, I got to ride on the donkey with mom. Now I’m a ‘big boy’ and have a baby sister. I get to walk with the adults and pack our food. Dad said I needed to protect the food the same way I protect our sheep.

As we walk; dad tells us, once again the story of Moses and Pharaoh. About the plagues God brought down on Egypt because God wanted his children to be able to worship him and not the idols of Egypt. At least that’s what dad says. I don’t get to read much. Yes, I’m a ‘big boy’ and watch the sheep but reading isn’t the most important thing when you have to be on high alert to protect the sheep.

As we walk, people are moving toward a mountain. Some people are running. This one man ran past us screaming, “it’s Jesus! It’s Jesus.” He’s waving his arms, running backwards, mostly stumbles. “It’s Jesus!” I smile. It was funny watching him almost fall. But his joy is catching. I’ve heard stories about Jesus. Stories around the night fires as we watch the sheep. Fantastic stories about a man that can heal the sick. Wow! And why not? If that Moses man (with God leading the way) can part the Red Sea, then why can’t this man Jesus do great things? I’ve tried to use my hands to part water in some of mom’s cooking pots. It didn’t work. Oh, to be like Moses.

I run as fast as I can to see this man called Jesus. He was surrounded by other men. They were talking about food. This man Jesus asked that everyone sit down. And they did. Wow! From the least to the greatest, they all sat down. Dad sometimes has to chase me to get me to sit down. Is Jesus a king or something?

Wait! I have food. I’m packing our families food pouch. It’s not much. But Jesus can have it. John 6:9 “Here is a boy with five small barley loaves and two small fish.” I got to stand in the presents of this man called Jesus. When he smiled at me and took the pouch, I felt like I was holding one of our new born sheep. It was…

I once asked dad if the sheep could feel. He said, “I’m sure they can but not like us. They scream when they are hurt.”

“But they know to come to me.” I said as a baby licked my hand. “He knows I’m not going to hurt him.” Dad just patted my head, “whatever you say son.” That’s how I felt with Jesus. He wasn’t going to hurt me. I’d never felt that from another person. Sure, mom and dad love me. This was so much more.

The men around Jesus started saying the food wasn’t enough. John 6:9 “but how far will they go among so many?” I felt a moment of anger and disappointment. Jesus winked at me and prayed over the pouch. After he prayed, I got to help hand out the food. Just when I thought we would run out more appeared. And more. And more! My dads face lit up when I (me) presented my family with food.

John 6: 13 “So they gathered them and filled twelve baskets with the pieces of the five barley loaves left over by those who had eaten.”

Twelve baskets! Wow! Who would have thought my families simple meal could have fed so many mouths. This man Jesus is awesome. Oh, to be like Jesus.

Once there was Darkness

Sandstorm

Part 1

As they were eating dinner, Beth appeared at the door. “Everyone should come outside.”

They all went outside. Beth pointed toward the Forest of Shadows, a storm was brewing. As they watched, the storm grew.

“A sand storm,” Kessa gasped. She walked over to a strange board that was standing chest high to her and angled down toward the city. It looked like a mirror and she lit a candle. She watched the city. Kol saw a similar light below.  She took another board and blocked out the light in patterns.

“What are you doing?”

“Alerting the garrison that a sandstorm has started in the deep desert.”

They in turn started sending back a message. In the distance, they heard one ring from the temple bell.

“I thought this system was in place long before both our lives.”

“That’s the beauty of it. It works that well.”

They sent her a message back. “What are they saying?”

“Can’t see.”

“I am sending back, growing. Watch for explosions.”

He was stunned, “what explosions?”

“You know those poles that we passed on the way to Garrard?” He nodded. “They are connected to explosives. When the wind rips them out of the ground, they will set off an explosion. There are five. They are placed to give us distance and width.” Beth brought out a board of some kind, an hour glass, and what looked like scribe tools.

“What are those for?” He sounded exasperated.

Frego was watching with great interest.

“Measure speed.” Kessa answered.

Beth pulled up a chair and sat down. The hour glass looked different than any hour glass he had ever seen. It had markings on it in intervals. “Beth we may not need that.” An explosion pulled their attention back in the direction of the storm. “Three days on a horse.” Beth turned the hourglass as Kessa sent a message. The bell sounded again. She paid no attention to Beth, who was writing on the board.

Kol was in shock. He glanced at his mother, who was watching the storm. He was thinking to himself; what else had Kessa done that he had no idea about? He stopped himself. Her mission was to protect him, look at the job she was doing. Not only did this work to protect him but his people. His home. Though he had done it many times before, in that moment, he thanked God that she was in his life.

Waste not. Want not: chap stick

This poem is being written in stages to highlight the things I do toward frugal living.

Sincerely, I’m addicted to chap stick.
My lips, I do not lick.

I have it everywhere; on my desk, in my pocket, in the car, on the coffee table, by the night stand.
Use a tube to the nub. Throw it away? No way man.

Use a cosmetic spatula to get every last soothing ounce.
Apply to dry lips, give them bounce.
Founds these on sale at CVS and bought 3 of them. They are great. You really can get every last drop.

Waste not. Want not.

Growing up; my daily life was filled with the saying, “waste not, want not.”

When you’re young, what clue do you have in lives dot?

As we grow; we learn, “money doesn’t grow on trees.”

I save the salt from chocolate squeeze.

To my stew you are added.

Flavor has been padded.

Aw sheet!

Blasted hole. This is not a treat.

I’m gonna fix you. I guarantee.

From my needle you need to flee.

More time will be added to your life. Around you I shall mend.

So more dream filled nights, you can tend.

Coffee. Nectar of God. You help me through another day.

Upright and functional, you help me stay.

What about your grounds?

A use for you, I have found.

Nutrients to the soil you will add.

Helping my veggies grow big and strong. Which will make me very glad.

Leftovers are my jam.

From me, they do not scram.

I freeze you to eat you for lunch.

Which helps my overall finances a bunch.

Someday I’d like to retire.

I’m sick of this mire.

Toothpaste: squeeze, squeeze you. But never tease me.

I will cut you open before I let you be.

Give me all your power.

Your contents, I will devour.

Inside I find more paste.

Enough for at lease 5 more brushings. No waste.

Mustard, ketchup, butter, pepper, or salt.

I don’t eat out a lot. Put that spending to a halt.

When I do, those condiment packets will be saved.

Eaten later or added to a recipe, usefulness will be made.

Some restaurants now days are making us pay for those.

Concerning our budgets, we must be on our toes.

I’m doing dishes anyway. No electric dishwasher near.

I pack my lunch almost every day. These sandwich bags here;

I haven’t bought new ones in years.

I wash them out until cracks appear.

Organized in old tissue boxes. Painted and labeled neat.

Baby steps toward my financial goals, meet.

Sincerely, I’m addicted to chap stick.

My lips, I do not lick.

I have it everywhere; on my desk, in my pocket, in the car, on the coffee table, by the night stand.

Use a tube to the nub. Throw it away? No way man.

Use a cosmetic spatula to get every last soothing ounce.

Apply to dry lips, give them bounce.

Once there was Darkness

Chapter 26

Kessa sat across from him at her table. His mother was given the head spot. He tried so hard not to stare at Kessa. Several times, he knew his mother caught him. She always met him with a blank stare.

How many times had he made Kessa blush as she downcast her glance? He would marry her right here. Right now if she would.

It was a very relaxing evening. He needed a lot more of them.

He met Beth and Petro.

After an amazing meal and delightful conversation; Rajaf patted his stomach, “I’d better be heading home.”

“Dad, you know you’re welcome to stay.”

He kissed Kessa’s forehead, “I know baby girl. Thank you but no bed sleeps like your own bed.” He laughed.

“I’ll join you.” The queen mother sounded.

Kol looked at Kessa. She nodded, leaving the room. Returning with Max. “Max will be close by if you need him.” She smiled.

They left. Frego stayed around a little longer. “My son, I have something for you.” He presented Frego with the medallion.”

“This is beautiful.” Kol put it around his sons neck.

“I think so too.”

“Violet is outside to walk with you, whenever you’re ready.” Kessa smiled.

Kol watched them walk away. Kessa appeared with two cups of tea. They sat on the porch overlooking their city.

“Kessa, I’m sorry. I handled the situation about mother going with you all wrong. I shouldn’t have done that to you.”

Her smile was unexpected, “I’ll forgive you this time.” She teased. He held out his hand for her, she accepted. “You know I’m here if you ever want to talk.”

“Thank you.”

“Your mother seems distracted, if you don’t mind my observation.”

“Hmm,” Kol voiced.

Kessa woke to Beth patting her arm. She looked over to see that Kol was asleep. He was still holding her hand.

“Shall we wake him?” Beth asked in a whisper.

“No, I’ll cover him up. Let’s let him sleep.” When Kessa covered him up, he wrapped the cover tighter around himself never waking. When he finally woke, Kessa and Beth were bringing breakfast outside. “Good morning.” Kessa smiled.

Beth lowered her head as she smiled.

After breakfast; he took a bath and changed. He found Kessa sitting on the porch. There was stuff all around her. “Kessa, thank you. I haven’t felt this good in a long time.”

“My door is always open.”

“What are you doing?” He asked taking the other chair. The blanket he had slept under was still draped over the arm.

“Mending.”

“Mending?” He questioned.

“Patching up holes.”

He looked confused, “why just not get new ones?”

She winked, “why, my king?”

He thought about what she was asking. “Can you not?”

A blush crept onto her face, “I can but choose not to.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You can not run a palace the way I run my house. Images must be maintained.”

“It was your idea to take the extra food to the wall?” She nodded. He smiled “To has taken lessons from you.”

“Your mother was quite upset over his new kitchen habits.”

“She can accept it or not. Will you show me around?” His curiosity was genuine.

“Sure. You’ve seen the house.” Between her house and the stable was a small house. “Beth and Petro decided they wanted to live there.”

“They are married.”

“Yes.” There were three horses in the stable. A couple goats. A few chickens.

“I thought you would have more animals. The way you enjoy cooking.”

“I spend most of my time at dad’s.”

“Then why do Beth and Petro not live in the big house?”

She smiled, “they didn’t want to.”

He nodded. She took him to the other side of the house. There were 3 trails, one led to the city. One led to the mountains behind her house. The third led to a spot that overlooked a small crescent shaped beach. Kol’s heart sank. Was this the beach in his dream? “Do you go down there often?”

“Sometimes. It’s more enjoyable walking Mecca’s beaches.”

He helped prepare dinner. Set the table. They danced around the kitchen to Petro’s playing. In all honesty, she and Beth did the dancing. He mostly watched them dance but from time to time, she would move him. He knew in his heart that this type of movement was not the subject of her writing he read at Rajaf’s. But it was movement none the less.

Hot Fuzz

What makes you laugh?

Hot Fuzz: A skilled London police officer, after irritating superiors with his embarrassing effectiveness, is transferred to a village where the easygoing officers object to his fervor for regulations, as a string of grisly murders strikes the town. IMDb.com

2007 R 2h 1m

Will I was on sick leave from work; Hot Fuzz was one of the movies I watched. In my opinion, Simon Pegg is a very talented actor.

I’ll try not to give too many spoilers. His character: (Simon Pegg) Nicholas Angel and his partner PC Danny Buttermore (Nick Frost) are sent out to recover a swan. When they catch the swan, they put it in the back of the police car because they are in the middle of a car chase.

Once the car chase is over, the bad guy hops in their car to make a quick get away not knowing to swam is in the back seat. It pops up honking at the driver, which scares him.

I got tickled and started laughing. Which quickly turned into a coughing fit. I went back and forth between coughing and laughing for a good 5 minutes.

https://youtu.be/ayTnvVpj9t4

I hope the link works. My connection is acting goofy.

Once there was Darkness

Chapter 25

Since the queen mother had returned, Kessa was able to make good on her promise of dinner.

They were given free rein of the house. Kessa’s home was their home. Every day he found more out about this woman. How amazing she was. He found himself in a small study. It reminded him so much of being at Rajaf’s. He sat down at the desk piled with books, papers, scrolls, and just odd stuff that he couldn’t identify. On the only clean spot was two pieces of paper. He fought with himself about invading her privacy and reading them. Instead, he opened a drawer. ‘How odd?’ He thought. In the corner of the drawer was a grass ring. It looked brittle. Old for grass. He wanted to touch it but was afraid it would fall apart.

He shut the drawer. Curiosity got the best of him concerning the papers. He read them:

Fighting with God

Genesis 32: 22-32

Your will shall prevail.

Oh Lord, this is not easy.

You have lifted a veil.

This direction makes me queasy.

Is this truly the path you wish me to follow?

With Jacob you wrestled –

Lord, I am terrified. In this sin, I wish not to wallow.

I am relying on you to be my trestle.

I hear you. I think I understand.

Even Jesus ask for this cup to be removed.

Guide me through your plan.

I do not disapprove.

My knees shake,

while my blood boils.

My heart quakes.

The current fold, I wish not to soil.

Help me Lord.

Guide my hand.

This next phase of my life – help me ford.

I am terrified of this (quick) sand.

I made you a promise.

Only you can redirect my life.

Only you can make me conscious.

Bring an end to my strife.

Your face is what I seek.

Bring me to Peniel, oh Lord.

How long will we wrestle?

How long must I suffer?

He read it again. Was this about him? About them? He read it again. ‘You have lifted a veil.’ That line was about him. God was just now letting him see what an amazing person Kessa was. But the rest was her struggle. He didn’t know if he should be happy or mad. How could he be so terrifying? He was just a man. Why was she wrestling with God? Then it dawned on him, he was wrestling with his own demons while she was working this out with God. He absent mindedly wondered through the house.

He found himself in another small room. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. This room was comfortable and inviting. A calm feeling washed over him and he started feeling at ease. When he looked around, there wasn’t a lot of furniture in this room. A chair, piles of books, a round stool.

“Dinner is about ready.” She was behind him.

“What is this room?”

“It’s going to be a library when I’m done. My king, why?”

“Have I been here before?”

“Once.”

“Promise, just once.”

“Your house feels like an old friend.”

“Thank you.”

“You promise?”

“If you have been here more than once, I don’t know about it. Please come with me.” She led him back to her study. From one of the desk drawers she produced a box. “Is this good?” It was a medallion for Frego. It was smaller than Kol’s. Instead of gold, it was made from silver.

“What does it say?”

“Psalms 16:1”

“Why will you not tell me who made these?”

“Does it honestly matter? Especially, if you are pleased, my king.”

He hugged her. She wasn’t quite sure how long to let the hug last. It seemed to her that he needed a hug. So she hugged him back. Or maybe she needed a hug? He ended the hug with a kiss. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” His head was resting on her forehead. He was holding her face in his hands. “I’m sorry.”

“Did you mean it?”

‘Yes, say yes. You meant it.’ His brain screamed. Finally he said it out loud, “Yes.”

“Then don’t be sorry.” She gently whispered in his ear. So close her breath made him shiver.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I’m sorry my king. Question?”

“Will you marry me?”

“If I may be honest, I thought it was the pain talking.”

“I understand why you would think that.”

She kissed him gently on the lips. “I didn’t say no.”

The pursuit of happiness

Happy

Are you happy?

This is not a loaded question; crappy.

Defined, the feeling of showing pleasure.

This section we can measure.

Contentment, what?

Those aren’t the same thing. Nope! Let’s depart.

Content and happy, they aren’t even relatable. What planet are you from?

I want. I see. I need. Dumb!

Try being happy when you’re down on your luck.

In menopause, stuck.

Happiness is fleeting.

It will leave your head and your tail meeting.

I JUST WANT TO BE HAPPY.

I don’t care who I hurt to get there, sappy.

Chase, catch, gone.

Weary to the bone.

Be content. Be still.

Stop running on the mill.

If ‘life is what you make it,’ make it.

Don’t get broken in by it.

Life is tough enough.

Mostly, it’s just stuff.

Be content with your job, till you find a new one.

Be content with your life, fun.

Be content with your house.

Be content with your spouse.

Be content with your car.

Be content thus far.

Happiness is fleeting.

Happiness is beating.

“Avoiding unhappiness is not the road to happiness.” Hector and the Pursuit of Happiness

The Declaration of Independence calls ‘the pursuit of happiness’ one of our unalienable right.

“Happiness is a choice. Not a destination.” Alux.com

Everyone just wants to be happy. What happens when we catch it? Can we keep it? Is the pursuit (the chase) the best part? Is the dream of happiness; is that what keeps it alive? It’s just a dream.