Life is But a Dream (Story)

God said “Be” and this Creation comes into being. At first, it does not include anything, it just exists.

Then God exhales and Holy Spirit comes into existence. With and through Holy Spirit all else is created. Holy Spirit gives life and is the connection between Creator and created. God is well beyond understanding, existing both within and beyond all Creation. When one interacts with God, it is Holy Spirit. Thus some origin legends contain, “In the beginning God creates God.”

Great Love connects Holy Spirit and God; they are One. It is through this Love that all else in Creation comes to be.

Next, God creates Child. God says to Holy Spirit, “Let Us create Child to be like Us, in Our image.” So Child comes to be and brings great delight to God and Holy Spirit. To Child, God is Parent; Holy Spirit is beloved Companion. Child exists before all else and learns at Parent’s side, participating in the creation of all else. Great Love connects and integrates Parent, Holy Spirit and Child as One. This delights all very much.

The existence of Heavenly realms are created, which are then filled with many different angelic and heavenly beings. Parent, Holy Spirit and Child take much delight in interacting and teaching these beings. The first lesson is Love.

In the beginning, the angelic beings are all One through Love, though they can learn and experience the Heavenly realms on an individual basis. The more they strive for independence, the further they walk from God’s Presence and Love.

God tries to counter this, by showing these headstrong angelic beings more Love. This, unfortunately, has the opposite effect. Some begin to wax proud, becoming leaders among their kind because they (and others) mistakenly perceive that they are “the most beloved of God’s angels.” 

Free will was granted to angelic beings, for God’s heart knows that they will repent and return. God wants the angelic beings to grow in Love and Wisdom, which means letting them do it in their own way. All this occurs beyond space and time. 

Eventually, a war breaks out. There is an open rebellion from angelic beings who rebel against God’s rule, wanting to rule Creation themselves; thus Greed comes into being.

Some desire the awe and respect Heavenly hosts and angelic beings give Parent, Holy Spirit and Child; thus Envy comes into being.

Some distance themselves far from God and think they could be gods themselves; thus Pride comes into being.

Those who remain faithful to God win that war and evict the rebels from the Heavenly Realms. It breaks every angelic heart to recall this event; they know they are One with each other.

God, Holy Spirit and Child create a new realm for the exiled; if not done, all angelic beings cease to exist. A dark, bitterly cold existence is created, for if rebellious angelic beings, of their own free will, desire to be as far from God’s Love and Light as possible, this is the place. Therein, they do not feel God’s Presence, even though at its very depths, Parent, Holy Spirit and Child still exist and rule. It is a place, God knows, where they can reconsider their decisions, repent and return to God. Thus Hell is created.

Within the Heavenly realms, Parent, Holy Spirit and Child create a corporeal existence, and call it Eden. Therein They create and place a wide variety of corporeal beings that live in peace and harmony with each other. Child takes great interest in this new part of Creation, and wants to experience it on a more intimate, first-hand basis. Parent consents and with Holy Spirit fashions a corporeal form in which Child can experience the corporeal world. 

Because all that Child has learned to date and all that Child truly is cannot be encased in such a small form with its small brain, Holy Spirit causes much of Child’s being to sleep, so it can focus on the experience. Because, even in that capacity, all there is to experience through six senses is so great, Parent and Holy Spirit create Space and Time to allow Child to learn through corporeal life.

Child delights in exploring Eden. With vague memories of creating each item, Child decides to name them.

Like the angelic beings, Parent gives Child free will and lets Child explore. Knowing that Child is limited by a corporeal mind and body, God instructs the angelic beings to protect and serve Child. Several angels do not like the fact that they are asked to serve Child in corporeal form, even though Child is created before them. They delight in serving Parent; Holy Spirit is their faithful Companion. But… to serve a creation of flesh is too much to ask! A second war rages in the Heavenly realms, and a second legion enters Hell. 

Holy Spirit is Child's eternal Companion, but the more Child focuses on corporeal existence, the more Child yearns for a corporeal companion, one that can experience just as Child experiences. Child begins to despise having a Companion of Spirit rather than flesh. Parent is adamant that Holy Spirit cannot take corporeal form, and Child wanders farther from God’s Light and Love.

There is so very much more to teach Child, so as Child starts to move away from Holy Spirit, Parent adds guidance to the roles of angels.

Child becomes more and more instant that Parent create a new corporeal companion to replace the Companion that Child has known for all of its existence. With a sigh of disappointment, Parent turns to Holy Spirit (who grieves the temporary loss of Child as Companion) and devises a plan – a way Child could learn all it seeks in corporeal existence, and yet, not be lost.

God causes Child to fall asleep. In the dream, Child becomes two beings: one male, the other female. Now Child has a corporeal companion. Child, at first, understands that it is one being, experiencing corporeal existence through two bodies. Child takes great delight in this.

Friendship blossoms. Lovemaking is a new ecstasy! Child spends more time exploring and learning, speaking with Parent often. Parent smiles, for in the dream Child does not realize that it can only interact with Parent through Holy Spirit. So what Child considers “God” is Holy Spirit as liaison between Creator and Created.

This lasts for some time, but Child is slowly drifting farther and farther from God’s Light and Love, while focusing and exploring all that corporeal existence has to offer. The thirst for information and experience is unquenchable. Child insists on learning all there is to learn, experience all there is to experience. If two bodies as one can learn so much and share such delight, what about many bodies of different sizes, shapes, abilities and experiences? 

Child discusses this wild idea with God/Holy Spirit. Fully aware that this is a dream, God/Holy Spirit know that when Child learns what it needs to learn from this experience, Child awakens and the dream ends. So God plants in Eden a Tree of Knowledge so Child can learn all there is in corporeal existence.

Child is firmly and sternly warned that such does cause great distress for Child. There no longer is eternal Joy; there is sadness. There no longer is ease; there is hardship. And at times, Child no longer feels the ever-presence of God’s Love; there is hate, anger, frustration and bitterness.

Parent and Holy Spirit weep as Child – in the corporal form of man and woman – reach up and eat of the tree's fruit. 

Thus, with Child’s decision, Parent and Holy Spirit cause a series of corporeal universes to exist. Within them, they place many stars, worlds, and environments. Many other forms of life in various levels of sentience populate the multiverses. All this comes to exist within Child’s dream.

Then God sends angels to chase Child out of Eden, leaving that corner of the Heavenly realms pure, and exile Child to Earth.

While all this comes to be, something also happens inside of Child. The man and woman have become two separate individuals. They no longer exist as one Child. They chose names for themselves to indicate – and even celebrate – their new-found individuality.

On Earth, they find other species like themselves, but not exactly. The man and woman are smarter, walk more upright, are more creative, and work more collaboratively. However, as they mingle and copulate with the sentient species of this world, the genes in their Eden-based corporeal forms dominate in the offspring. Homo-sapiens soon displace the other species, multiply and spread across every land, eventually even living on the fringes of their world.

As each succeeding generation is born, the understanding that Child is one, grows dimmer and dimmer until forgotten. The corporeal form in this harsh environment wears down, becomes injured, ill, and even dies. Child has become many minds, and mourns the loss of each individual as though each is a completely separate entity tied by friendship and family.

While this is still a dream, the fallen angelic beings find that they can influence these individuals. They teach hate, envy, greed, war and pride to humanity. This is possible because angelic beings are created after and through Child. While Child no longer remembers what it once was, these angelic beings do, and now is the chance to hurt Child in vengeance for being outcast to Hell. 

In time, they teach several individuals to reject the One True God to the point where these individuals experience Hell’s existence as well as corporeal existence.

After a few generations, the concept that Child is one being that exists before Eden is no longer in the individual minds. Some still pray, as a form of interacting with God (Holy Spirit), but there is a greater and greater distance. The intimate relationship is gone.

The descendants believe there are many gods – and not a few goddesses. They create stories about how these gods and goddesses interact with the corporeal world to bring about such that they could not explain. While they do not realize it, because they are Child – the Child at the start of Creation – anything that they believe (especially collectively), they create to be, if only within the confines of Child’s dream.

Thus a wide variety of gods, goddesses, fae, jinn, spirits and other beings come into existence. The stories that humanity tells each other became as real as the flesh on their bodies to them. Parent/Holy Spirit are now one of many, even forgotten by some. In Greek and Roman legends, stories tell how the gods overthrew their Parents.

A man named Enoch is born. He knows about other divine beings, but feels a greater love stir in his breast for the one true God – the Creator of all. Holy Spirit draws very close to Enoch and reveals angelic beings that continue to help and serve Child. One day, Holy Spirit asks Enoch, “Will you be my Companion?” Enoch agrees and becomes known as "The man who walked with God."

As Enoch and Holy Spirit grow closer in Love and Companionship, Holy Spirit reveals Child to Enoch, as much as Enoch’s limited mind can understand it. Enoch accepts it and whole new waves of wisdom pour into his mind, leaping beyond space and time. He can see his connection with all humanity -- past, present and future, as one Child of God.

He sees events from the start to a point beyond where we now are. He writes all that he can put into words. The rest would have to wait.

As Enoch’s corporeal form ages and grows tired, Holy Spirit takes pity on him. Enoch never dies; Holy Spirit takes Enoch corporeally to Eden to rest and wait for the rest of humanity –- to wait until Child awakens from the dream. 

Millennia come and go. Many individuals draw close to Holy Spirit and the One True God, yet still die.

At one point, another individual burns with a passionate zeal for the One True God. Elijah, like Enoch, becomes a true Companion with Holy Spirit. And like Enoch, Elijah does not die. When his corporeal form is worn and tired, Holy Spirit takes Elijah to Eden.

Many more centuries pass. Then the rarest of individuals is born. Like the pairing of two bright points of light in the sky (such as the recent planetary conjunction), two individuals are born into the same family, months apart, as cousins to each other. 

The preceding life contains the spirit of Elijah, the same whose fiery passion for God and Companionship with Holy Spirit is well known. This time the bond of Companionship was in place before his birth.

The other is one whom Holy Spirit leads to play the greatest role in bringing the Good News to a weary world. Into the womb of a virgin, Holy Spirit breathes this individual life into being and is with this person every moment. As the individual grows into manhood, He comes to understand something beyond all others: He is Child of God, one with Parent (whom He affectionately calls Abba/Father), one with Holy Spirit -- who is His Beloved Companion – and One with all of humanity. One Child of God.

As Child, He can do anything he can think of. He feeds thousands on very little. He walks on stormy water. He heals any aliment of the corporeal world, even raises the dead. He convinces others to have Faith so they, too, can do the same.

But, in the understanding of those listening to Him, these are hard concepts to grasp. He shows them miracles, teaching that any with even the smallest amount of Faith could do great wonders. He prays that they open their eyes to see that humanity is One. He teaches them that God is Parent and that Holy Spirit is beloved Companion.

He lives, Loves, Forgives and even sacrifices His individual corporeal form so that each member of humanity could draw closer to the One True God, in Love and Companionship. He rises from the dead, teaching that death itself is just a dream, and encourages all around him to awaken.

There is much more I can say about Yeshua / Jesus the Christ, but these are the related points, and this story is already quite long. In short, Yeshua / Jesus opens the way for Child to find a way back to what was forgotten, and rekindle the relationship between Child and Holy Spirit. This is the path to awakening.

In the nearly two millennia since, there are other teachers. Few understood as He did. Many learn from His words, believe He is the Son of God, and even proclaim others are God’s Children through adoption via Christ.

Some believe they are part of a collective conscience, which is their concept of God. This collective is simply Child, and Parent is far, far, far greater.

Some wonder if this existence really IS a dream – or a nightmare.

What you, my dear reader, believe is up to your heart and soul.

There are many different beliefs out there. This is one that dawns clearer and clearer inside myself. From this dream, one cannot awaken without ALL of humanity. Humanity is One, the Child of God. Holy Spirit is our Companion, well beyond space and time.

Row, row, row your boat
Gently down the stream
Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily
Life is but a dream 

~ ESA

Loki Gets No Grace (Story)

Last fall I attended an interfaith convention where Linda presented the following song at the bardic circle. Within a matter of hours, I had a story response to the question asked in her song. Both are shared below.

Linda's Song calls attention to the way some Christians behave, judge and condemn others (even after we profess that Christ is the only Judge). The story that follows shares just how far the Love and Forgiveness of Yeshua / Jesus extends. Both hold a good message to share. :D

I've heard it said, that Jesus loves you.
I want you to know, that I love you too.
Let no one say, that I turned down a friend.
So I went to see if Jesus loves me too!
Went to see if Jesus loves me too, went to see if Jesus loves me too!

Oh, first I went to find him at the Pearly Gates,
But the man at the door didn't like my face.
I turned into a nun, said do you like me now?
He said: "No, Loki no, Loki gets no grace!"
"No, Loki no, Loki gets no grace!" "No, Loki no, Loki gets no grace!"

So I turned into a mouse, snuck in the back.
There were harps and clouds all over the place.
Asked an angel where to find the Christ.
He said: "No, Loki no, Loki gets no grace!"
"No, Loki no, Loki gets no grace!" "No, Loki no, Loki gets no grace!"

So I turned into a girl, dressed in white lace,
Sweetly said as I kissed his face,
"Why, if he loves me, can't I get to first base?"
He said: "No, Loki no, Loki gets no grace!"
"No, Loki no, Loki gets no grace!", "No, Loki no, Loki gets no grace!"

So I went to the man, sitting on the throne
Saying "Can I date your son? With permission embrace?"
He was not amused, angels gave me chase
Saying: "No, Loki no, Loki gets no grace!"
"No, Loki no, Loki gets no grace!", "No, Loki no, Loki gets no grace!"

Well they say Jesus loves me, but if that's the case
I can find no proof, not a single trace.
I don't like his friends and their Master Race
Saying: "No, Loki no, Loki gets no grace!"
"No, Loki no, Loki gets no grace!", "No, Loki no, Loki gets no grace!"

I've heard it said, that Jesus loves you.
I want you to know, that I love you too.
Let no one say, that I turned down a friend.
So I came to see if you would love me too.
Came to see if you would love me too, came to see if you would love me too.

I don't live in a church, I won't kneel in a pew.
I won't save your soul, you don't need me to.
I just want to come and laugh with you,
Saying I'm Loki and I'll play with you,
I'm Loki and I'll play with you, I'm Loki and I'll play with you!

____________________________________________________________________________
The Response

After the above song was spread far and wide, a message came from Heaven to clarify a few things about what happened. There are many of Jesus' followers, even in the ranks of Heaven, that do not know everything that Jesus does. This led to misunderstandings. If you read the above lyrics, clearly Loki never had a chance to ask Jesus the question directly.

So, right after Loki was bounced out of Heaven, Jesus paid Asgard a visit. Being a gentleman, Jesus had previously asked Odin's Permission to enter Asgardian Realm, and Thor met Jesus at the entrance. One look at all that Jesus brought with him and Thor's eyes lit in mischief as a sly grin crossed his face. "Oh, this is going to be good!"

Jesus smiled pleasantly and asked Thor, "Do you think you could keep Loki occupied for a while?" 

Thor's eyes shone as he laughed and toyed with his hammer. "Of course I can! Oh LOKI...!"

As Thor took off in search Loki to distract him, Jesus ventured to the place where Loki had set up residence, leaving something for him there to discover later.

Several hours later, Loki arrived at his home, ragged and sore, doggedly trying to escape Thor's notice for the time being. Upon arrival, however, his jaw dropped.

Now you see, Jesus has the advantage of being the Creator's Son. So after Loki's escapade through Heaven, Jesus approached his Father and asked for a favor. Still fuming a bit, His Father let Jesus have His wish. Jesus wanted unicorns... lots and LOTS of unicorns. "Not the small goat kind that was documented in the Middle Ages, Abba, nor the perfect equine kind that is often pictured today. I want something different," He explained. "Abba, have you ever seen the TV show My Little Pony?"

When Loki arrived at his little corner of Asgard, there were hundreds of thousands of these brightly colored little ponies everywhere. Some sang. Some danced. Some played silly games like four-hoofed care-bears. And they ALL farted rainbows and did other things on his nicely manicured lawns and gardens.

Fuming, Loki made his way -- stepping carefully -- across the grounds and stormed into his abode. Only to be met with another surprise. There were white teddy bears of every size imaginable crammed into any and all open spaces. Each had a big red heart emblazoned across its chest.

But the worst part was that they all spoke. The moment Loki slammed the door they ALL started up - HUNDREDS of them - in UNISON. "I Love you. I Love you. I Love you. I Love you. I Love you..." 

Within mere moments the words were a mantra Loki could not get out of his mind. He searched the first few in range only to maddeningly discover that there was no off switch nor any way to remove the batteries. The chant continued.

Right in the center of the room was the biggest teddy bear of all, bearing a note written in an elegant hand. Loki tore the note from the bear's heart and read:
 

You may receive Forgiveness' Grace,
Just like any other
May you never once forget, Loki,
I love you like a brother.
~ Jesus
P.S. Your turn!

For you see, Loki and Jesus have this game of "tag" that has gone on for centuries. Of course, when Loki approached the throne, God the Father KNEW all this. His rebuke and the angel chase was just His way of making it perfectly clear to Loki that Heaven was out-of-bounds. 

Where will the next turn take them? 

The ball is in Loki's court... ;)

Not-so-Holy Words

In my studies, I've learned God is well beyond human understanding. While I will never know what thoughts and plans crosses God's mind from well beyond space and time, I still ponder things...

I am sure I am not the only one who reads through the bible and wonders how the God of the Hebrews, YHWH, be the same loving, forgiving Father of whom Christs speaks so devotedly. If God loves everyone, why did hundreds of thousands die in wars because God of the Israelites wanted it so? How could such a loving Father kill every first born child of the Egyptians? To make a point?

My English literature degree helps me see that EVERYTHING is written by an author's perspective. None of the holy books are a word-by-word quote from God. In fact, the only item possibly written directly by God (see Exodus) are the two tablets upon which the 10 commandments are written. Everything else was written by the hands of mankind, and should be taken with a grain of salt.

Have you ever read the "history" of the American Revolution from both the British and American sides? They are two different stories, even if the facts are the same. If you look close enough, you will see those American colonists were - quite literally - TERRORISTS! Yet, in the American history books, they were heroes... 

In the Old Testament, we only see the events from the Jewish perspective. The testimony is skewed to favor them. What would a different perspective reveal?

Take for example the major events leading to the Passover exodus. To the Jews, they wanted to see God punish their oppressors in Egypt, thus the events were recorded from this perspective. What if we stand the event on its head and take a look from a new perspective. The river waters had run red (contaminated), frogs escaping the river died on the land, locus and flies followed... In the natural order of things, disaster-followed-disaster. Ancient people did not understand health, bacteria and viruses to the degree we understand today. We do know of fast moving illnesses that take only a section of our population (ie, young, elderly, or - in the case of the 1918 flu - only people in their prime). What if the prior disasters led to an outbreak of illness or contamination in the water supply? 

What if if the true miracle was that God protected the Jews from that which, in natural course of events, attacked the others residing in Egypt? That, at least, would show Love and Mercy of which Christ speaks.

Perhaps the illness the hit Egypt that night was food-borne. The Israelites were instructed to slaughter lambs, sprinkle the blood and eat the meat (not any other). Through this, God could have led them away from the disaster that hit the region.

Again, I don't know anything for certain, but it leads me to wonder what else I may see though a different perspective. One thing I've found for certain, story after story... No matter how many times the Isrealites have turned from God, God has been ever-faithful to His side of the covenant made with Abraham. And God does forgive past transgressions...

Christ presented a new Covenant in His teachings. Two rules - not several books of them, both Old Testament and religious dogma of today. Love God; Love each other. In the covenent, we are called to forgive each other's mistakes ("sins") and own own transgressions will be forgiven. Simple and pure. If God is ever-faithful to promises in the Old Testament, I have no doubt Christ is too.

Priorities

This particular blog post is dedicated to my "little" brother (who ended up being the tallest of our generation).

When my brother was 12 years old, he was diagnosed with AVM, which is a malformation in his brain. Granted, medicine and technology have come a long way since he was first diagnosed in the early 1980's; he one of the first cases in the United States.

They told my parents that he would not likely live to see adulthood. They could try to prolong his life a little by alleviating the pressure on the brain. The first of many brain-surgeries opened a place in his skull, so he could no longer participate in track - a sport he loved. In fact, with nothing but hair and skin between a potential impact and his brain, he was banned from all sports, including the school's gym class.

I don't know how much my brother realized his time in this world was limited; he did know that each time he went into the hospital (yearly at times) may be his last time. But beyond that, he continued to live his life as though nothing was different. He laughed and lived each moment to the fullest.

In school, he was one a handful selected to learn the newest "rage" - the computer. Like my dad, he had an exceptionally sharp mind and uncanny ability to figure out the technology with very little instruction. Soon he was teaching the teachers on the school's first computer (which, if I recall correctly, was in a storage room next to the mimeograph machine they still used at the time).

My brother always looked at the positive side of things, though, and found humor in the strangest places. He would get such a thrill when he told people to place their hand on a certain part of his head. Then he'd lean forward so they would feel his brain slosh against their fingertips, laughing at the expression on their face. It was certainly something they couldn't do.

But his medical condition wasn't the only thing he laughed about. He'd enjoy laughing at everything. It was this sense of humor that lifted the entire family, through both his problems and ones we faced in our own lives.

Because of my little brother's example, we all held onto a child-like heart through life's ups and downs.

 
Needless to say, despite the doctor's warnings, my little brother reached adulthood. He went on to become a Director of IT for a company, got married, bought a nice house and had three beautiful children.

While his kids were still young, my brother's health began to decline. He could no longer drive long distances safely, so I helped him work with his HR department to arrange a telecommuting option. This was a golden opportunity, as it enabled him to spend even more time with the ones he loved dearly.

Then came the terrible news, his marriage was ending. While loosing his wife was horrific enough, being separated from his children was unbearable.
So he fought hard to have the kids with him every other day as well as alternating weekends. He was there to walk them to/from the bus stop, check their homework, make them dinner, read to them, and tuck them in at night. He attended school plays, games and every function that was important to the kids.

I think the kids realized something was wrong with their daddy. Unlike other dad's, he went to the doctors a lot and had many brain surgeries; they'd visit him in the hospital when they were old enough.

Just as the last of the kids entered grade school, my brother needed to use a cane to manage his balance. They had no qualms about his handicap; they'd play with his cane or hang on to it instead of his hand when they walked together. It was part of who their daddy was.

As they grew older, I could see how even the youngest instinctively knew when to use her slight weight just enough to counter the way dad would suddenly lean when he was distracted, helping him to stay balanced.

In 2010, we needed to rent a scooter for him at our annual family trip to a local amusement park. The kids had the best time with that; they'd fight over who got to ride with daddy on the scooter between the rides. In fact, riding the scooter with daddy was the BEST ride in the park.
...

My brother had a stroke around 8pm on April 1st last year (2011). His ex-wife had just dropped off the kids for the weekend. They were worried when the ambulance came to take their unconscious father to the hospital. It wasn't the first time; he's been rushed to the hospital many times in their short lives. But he always came back home.

Always.

This time he didn't. He lasted a few more hours, enough for my sister, mother and I to arrive and say goodbye. My other brother had only just landed in NY on his mad-dash flight from San Diego when our little brother breathed his last.

* * *

It wasn't until I was going through some pictures following his death that I realized there was something my little brother did consistently. He always did things with and for the kids first. His house was badly in need of repairs and cleaning at times, but there was always time to play.

Even when low-points of his condition created severe migraines or caused him to sleep deeply for hours through the day, his kids would play quietly around him, being near to him. Some day's he'd wake up to discover his daughter had surrounded him with little paper tanks she folded when he was sleeping. There was even the time their mischievous aunt helped them build a playhouse over daddy- couch and all.

The middle-child was the one closest to my brother. He was the one who had his own head shaved every time  daddy needed his head shaved for surgery. He was the one that laughed the loudest and stuck by his dad's side through thick and thin....

He was the hardest hit when daddy was no longer a part of his young life.

 
The video shows the last birthday this child shared with his daddy. It was a common moment perhaps shared countless times between the two, but none of us ever knew it would be the last time...

A few months ago, the anniversary of their dad's passing, this child asked for some things he wanted to have. While the house they spent many happy memories with their dad had since been cleared out and sold, my mom kept a few items that belonged to my brother.
The first item he asked for was my brother's cane. This I think is a very big part of their memories of daddy. This was a part of him. In the last few years, he couldn't walk across the room without it. Now he is in a place where he no longer needs it.

The youngest had made a drawing to place in her daddy's casket. It was her memory of the two of them picking apples. He was holding her up so she could reach the apples on the tree branches. Leaning in easy reach against the tree's truck is that ever-present cane.

The second item the middle-child requested was a surprise to us. When my brother decided to try to meet someone new, after the divorce, he tried to create a roguish appearance. His hair, after all those surgeries, was thinned if not completely gone in sections. So he shaved it all off and grew a goatie instead.

Then one day the family noticed a new image on his FaceBook account. My brother had gotten a new hat, and wore it quite frequently at family gatherings as well as on dates.

His son wanted that hat.

When we dug it out, I expected that it would be far too big for his young head. After all, my brother was 6'7" and had a big head to match. But, remarkably, it fit the son's head perfectly! He was a dapper young man wearing his dad's hat and strutting with his dad's cane.

It was the first time I've seen even a hint of a smile on that child's face for a year.

---

Like my little brother, each of us are only here a short time. We never know when our life will end, we only know the moment we have in our hands. If my brother had worked long hours, or only saw them every-other weekend, or focused on the to-do list at home, I don't think he would have built the close ties he had with his kids. It's true he only had a short time with them; none had yet reached middle-school when he died. 

But they do have some beautiful memories that they can share for the rest of their lives.

Happy Father's Day - may you share it with those you love.

~ ESA

Father's Day Memorial

I had created this video for my dad a few years ago, months after he passed away. While my little brother (pictured at 0:32 in the video) is also gone now, I haven't been able to generate a memorial video for him yet. Next year, hopefully both will be posted together as I have no doubt they are now side-by-side in Paradise.

Happy Father's Day!

~ ESA

Learning to Ride

When I was a small girl (younger than that picture), my dad taught me how to ride my first "two-wheel" bike. Like many my age, I had "training wheels" at first to allow my limbs to grow used to the differences between a tricycle and bicycle.

Then there was the fateful day when my dad, observing me, determined it was time for the training wheels to come off. I was so very afraid that I would fall. To ease that fear, he offered to jog along beside the bicycle holding onto the back of the seat. If my balance wasn't too steady, his hand would be there to keep me from falling.

Encouraged, I let him take the training wheels off and -- still trepidatious -- got on the bike. I started pedaling on the concrete-block sidewalk in front of our house, heading down the block. The ground was level and it took some effort on my part to keep those wheels moving and the bike upright.

At the first tree, halfway across our small front yard, I looked behind. My dad was still there, hand still on the back of the seat. I got a little more courage and looked ahead again.

At the border with the neighbors yard, I peeked again. And again, he was still there, hand still on the bike. It was then I put all my trust in his guidance and focused entirely on pedaling the bike and keeping it upright.

When I reached the tree that marked the center of my neighbor's yard, I peeked again. My dad was still jogging along beside my bike, but his hand was NOT on the seat. So what happened? I became afraid. I became terrified that without his support - or my training wheels - I would fall. And what happened?

I fell of course.

With scraped knee and elbow, I cried tears of distress and betrayal. Oh, how upset I was that my dad let go when he promised he was going to hold on.

He lovingly soothed my tears and explained that he only let go when he saw that I was able to ride on my own. He had faith in me.

He would not take the bike back to our house. He refused to put the training wheels back on. He would not let me walk home without the bike. The only choice I had was to get back on the bike and try again.

My dad promised he would run beside me and hold on to the seat until I had my balance back.

The scene repeated. At first, he held on, then he let go as I gained my balance was was able to ride on my own. It felt good knowing he was right there beside me. Confidence grew and I started to pedal harder, the bike started moving forward faster with renewed energy.

The third house and tree passed, then the fourth. By the time I reached the fifth tree, I started to laugh. I was RIDING A TWO-WHEEL BIKE WITHOUT TRAINING WHEELS LIKE THE BIG KIDS!!!

In the shade of the sixth tree, I glanced over my shoulder; my dad was still there. So I looked ahead and enjoyed the ride. When I reached the seventh tree, I heard a shout from my father. He had stopped at the sixth tree. I had ridden all that distance all by myself! Again, fear seized me for the moment. I was ALL ALONE!

And I fell to the sidewalk again.

And I cried - again.

Knowing I was not seriously hurt, my dad causally reached out with his arm and leaned against the sixth tree, unmoving. "Look at how far you went!" he called. "Look at what you did on your own! You can do it. You DID do it. Look at the distance."

"Now, get back on that bike and try again" 

 + + +

There are two reasons I share this memory with my readers today. One, it's Father's Day, and while my Father no longer walks in this world, I still have loving memories to share. The reason I share this memory, though, is that many of us may have similar stories when they first learned to ride a bike. And in this small parent-to-child way, parallels our relationship with God.

God watches over us and knows when we are ready to try something new and grow as we should. We will have help and guidance as we take those few first steps into the new experience. Then we are allowed to try our wings, for that experience will help us grow. There will be times when we are afraid, and in our fear - we fall. But God, like my dad, also encourages us to get back up and try again, because He has faith in us too.

~ ESA

Father to Son (Video)

This is a video I made years ago, but had to eventually remove from YouTube because I do not own the rights to the song. It started as a conversation between my husband and I. He knows this song from its original debut decades ago. To me, though, the words sounded as what God would say to Yeshua/Jesus just before His crucifixion.

Song: Day is Done - Peter, Paul and Mary
Images: Photobucket

All rights are retained by the respective artists. I do not, nor ever have, received funds for this. I produced this out of the Love in my heart.

- ESA

First Bike Ride (True Story)

When I was a small girl, my dad taught me how to ride my first "two-wheel" bike. Like many my age, I had "training wheels" at first to allow my limbs to grow used to the differences between a tricycle and bicycle.

Then there was the fateful day when my dad, observing me, determined it was time for the training wheels to come off. I was so very afraid that I would fall. To ease that fear, he offered to jog along beside the bicycle holding onto the back of the seat. If my balance wasn't too steady, his hand would be there to keep me from falling.

Encouraged, I let him take the training wheels off and -- still trepidatious -- got on the bike. I started pedaling on the concrete-block sidewalk in front of our house, heading down the block. The ground was level and it took some effort on my part to keep those wheels moving and the bike upright.

At the first tree, halfway across our small front yard, I looked behind. My dad was still there, hand still on the back of the seat. I got a little more courage and looked ahead again.

At the border with the neighbors yard, I peeked again. And again, he was still there, hand still on the bike. It was then I put all my trust in his guidance and focused entirely on pedaling the bike and keeping it upright.

When I reached the tree that marked the center of my neighbor's yard, I peeked again. My dad was still jogging along beside my bike, but his hand was NOT on the seat. So what happened? I became afraid. I became terrified that without his support - or my training wheels - I would fall. And what happened?

I fell of course.

With scraped knee and elbow, I cried tears of distress and betrayal. Oh, how upset I was that my dad let go when he promised he was going to hold on. He lovingly soothed my tears and explained that he only let go when he saw that I was able to ride on my own. He had faith in me.

He would not take the bike back to our house. He refused to put the training wheels back on. He would not let me walk home without the bike. The only choice I had was to get back on the bike and try again.

My dad promised he would run beside me and hold on to the seat until I had my balance back.

The scene repeated. At first, he held on, then he let go as I gained my balance was was able to ride on my own. It felt good knowing he was right there beside me. Confidence grew and I started to pedal harder, the bike started moving forward faster with renewed energy.

The third house and tree passed, then the fourth. By the time I reached the fifth tree, I started to laugh. I was RIDING A TWO-WHEEL BIKE WITHOUT TRAINING WHEELS LIKE THE BIG KIDS!!!

In the shade of the sixth tree, I glanced over my shoulder; my dad was still there. So I looked ahead and enjoyed the ride. When I reached the seventh tree, I heard a shout from my father. He had stopped at the sixth tree. I had ridden all that distance all by myself! Again, fear seized me for the moment. I was ALL ALONE!

And I fell to the sidewalk again.

And I cried - again.

Knowing I was not seriously hurt, my dad causally reached out with his arm and leaned against the sixth tree, unmoving. "Look at how far you went!" he called. "Look at what you did on your own! You can do it. You DID do it. Look at the distance."

"Now, get back on that bike and try again"

+ + +

The reason I share this memory with my readers this morning is that I came to realize something. To me, God is like my dad in this small way.

God watches over us and knows when we are ready to try something new and grow as we should. We will have help and guidance as we take those few first steps into the new experience. And there are times when we are allowed to try our wings, for that experience will help us to grow. There will be times when we are afraid, and in our fear - we fall. But God, like my dad, also encourages us to get back up and try again, because He has faith in us too.

- ESA

Pari

There is something I have never told another, though I've written it often in my journal. So I have cause to dance with words a bit prior to saying what I want to say... I can be shy about things close to my heart.

Over the years, I've come to realize that God is not the Father-Son-Spirit in the way I learned as a child. There is Yeshua/Jesus who is both fully human Son as well as truly One with God. But God "the Father" isn't some old, white-haired, white-bearded guy sitting on a cloud far over our heads looking down to watch us. And the Holy Spirit is not some red flame burning in a candle holder bracketed to the wall of the church.

These are illustrations. They are metaphors. These are simple ways to explain to a child what God is.

I am no longer a child.

God is UNKNOWABLE. God is so far outside our comprehension that we can never achieve anything close to knowing what God is.

But we can and do experience various parts / manifestations / touches / expressions of God. Many of these have found their ways into the various religions of humanity. But these are, in themselves, not the full understanding of God.

While I am Christian and grew up with Catholic teachings about the Trinity, my understanding has grown and expanded to include this. Also my relationship with God has changed.

As a male human, Yeshua/Jesus would relate to God as Father, which was the teacher, the protector and head of the family unit in His time. I've wondered if the old, white-bearded image we have of God the Father is a reflection of some wise Rabbi-like image from Christ's days here.

But God is not male. God is not female. God is neither and both simultaneously. (Wrap your head around that a moment).

Now, as a female human, I do have the concept of God the Father when I pray, listen and speak with God at times. But I grew up in the late 20th century, a world where women played as much a dominant role in the workplace and homes, sometimes the only role model in some families.

Plus, let's face it, it's hard to speak to a Father about my first menstrual period, my experiences with a pregnancy, the agony of a miscarriage, the "squishyness" of a mammography, pain from ovarian cysts, concerns over cervical cancer, and gripes about natural changes and the roller-coaster of menopause. That is better suited to sharing with a Mother.

Yeshua/Jesus called God "Abba", which more precisely translated is "Daddy". To me, God is both Father and Mother. But "O Holy Parent" is a bit distant and formal. Not something I could hold dear in my heart.

So I chose "Pari" which is a familiar, child-like shortening of "Parent" akin to "Mommy" and "Daddy".

-ESA

For My Dad (Video)

This is a video I made as a tribute for my dad.

Happy Father's Day to all the fathers, step-fathers, foster-fathers, father-figures, big-brothers and other male role models. :D

-ESA

Awaiting His Return (Story)

© 2009

Amit was jostled by the crowds near the city gate. Short for her seven years of age, she couldn’t see what the commotion was about, but her young ears caught the exclamation, “He’s returned! Rabbi Yeshua (Jesus) has returned to Jerusalem!” Her heart leapt in joy. He came back! She vividly remembered the last time she saw him; the gentle voice and smile that lit up his eyes as he told stories to the children.

Squirming her way through the myriad thicket of legs, she dodged her way through the crowd, toward home. Dashing headlong across the small courtyard, she threw all her weight against the heavy wooden door to open it, stumbling into the cool dark interior. Rushing to the hearth where two small bread loaves cooled from the morning’s baking, she carefully wrapped the better of the pair in a clean cloth. Cradling the still-warm loaf, she stepped out of the two-room home into the bright desert sunlight, pulling the door closed behind her.

She ran through Jerusalem’s narrow streets back to the gate, but the crowd was gone, leaving only dust motes sparkling in the sunlight. With a rising panic, she glanced around and discovered a path of palm branches strewn in the street, clearly indicating the procession’s direction. Green branches crunched under her worn leather sandals as she panted up that street. The scent of newly cut palms rose from the dust, mingling with the scents of humanity and animals common to the city of her birth.

When she finally caught up with them, Yeshua was dismounting the young donkey he rode into the city, and a great crowd of followers and curious onlookers gathered. Using her small stature to advantage, she clutched the loaf close to her heart and ducked between the people, pushing her way to the front where he stood. When one of his followers stopped her, Yeshua spied her and said she could come forward. With reverence and the unconscious grace only the young can exhibit, she approached smiling and held out her gift. “Here, Rabbi, it’s the first I’ve ever made!”

The cloth was now dusty from its journey, but warm to his fingertips as he accepted it; the aroma of fresh baked bread drifted out from the folds to greet his nose. He smiled kindly with twinkling eyes and lowered himself on one knee, meeting her gaze levelly. “Thank you, Amit.”

“I’m glad you came back, Rabbi Yeshua. I knew you would return to Jerusalem.”

His smile broadened and he placed his hand lovingly on her slim shoulder. “I tell you this, child. I will always return to those who believe.”

She grinned back and replied, “Thank you, Rabbi.” She bestowed a kiss on his bearded cheek and then simply turned and pushed her way back through the crowd towards her awaiting chores.

The following days passed in bliss; she rushed through chores as her parents attended Yeshua’s teachings. Then she gathered with the other children to hear wondrous stories. At night, her family listened as their father recounted Yeshua’s teachings.

Four days after the memorable entrance, she helped her mother clean and prepare their home for the Pesach (Passover). She loved this holiday and even helped with the matzoh and Seder Plate for that first night. Her father read from the Haggadah (Exodus) and asked the youngest child the traditional questions, starting with “Why is this night different?” The family prayed together and sang the familiar songs, eating with the dishes reserved for this special holiday. While she hunted for the Afikomen with her younger siblings, Amit wondered where Yeshua celebrated the Seder that night, and how long he would be in Jerusalem.

The next day arrived with a tumult in the streets. Her father departed early and returned quickly, demanding that she stay home with her siblings. “Do not even venture beyond our gate, Amit,” he admonished, knowing her tendency to be headstrong.

“Honor your father’s wishes, Amit,” her mother added as she draped her head-covering over her head and shoulders, following her husband down the street.

With her mother gone, she drew the water, tended the fire, baked the matzoh, ground the grain into flour, and other household tasks she could do. Her curiosity grew as the hours passed. At one point, she heard a great crowd moving through the city. Laboring to get the ladder against their home, she clambered onto the rooftop. But the crowd was too distant to see anything of interest as it traveled down the hill and out the gate. The girl sighed disappointed and returned to her chores.

Three hours later, she shivered and looked up from the small grinder in her lap. The sky had grown ominously dark, moreso because sunset was three hours away. Fearing a storm, she told her siblings to shutter the windows. She also prayed to God that if the storm was bad, her parents would find shelter; they were away a long time.

Gathering the grinder and bowls with wheat kernels and flour, she started across the courtyard. But before she reached the doorway, the ground violently shook, throwing her to her knees; bowls and grinder clattered to the ground, spilling her day’s work. Heedless of the loss, she shouted to her siblings above the unknown roar and frightening shifting and explosions of stone and mortar from the surrounding buildings as though she suddenly found herself beneath a giant’s grinding stone. Hearing dismayed cries, she pulled herself to her feet and stumbled over heaving ground to the doorframe, bracing herself there. Her two siblings inside clung to each other, crying with wide, terrified eyes. Maintaining her grip on the doorpost just below the Mezuzah, Amit threw an outstretched hand toward them and grabbed a sleeve, yanking the pair through the door with a strength she did not know she possessed.

As the three tumbled to the ground, the earthquake ended as abruptly as it started. An eerie silence surrounded them; their coughing exceedingly loud in the air thick with dust under a dark, ominous sky. As the event began to register in her seven-year-old mind, she clung to her siblings and wept with them. Not long after, their parents scrambled up the rubble-strewn street, entering their courtyard. Relieved to find their children alive and their home relatively intact, both parents clutched their offspring to their breasts, thanking God.

After a while, Amit found her voice and asked, “What happened, Abba?”

Her father gently grasped her hands, meeting her curious gaze. “Today they crucified Rabbi Yeshua.”

She stood there, shaking her head wordlessly; silent tears streamed down her dusty cheeks. She mouthed the words “No” and “Why” but no sound escaped past the lump in her throat. He embraced her, stroking her hair as the words sank in. After a few moments, she snuffled and pulled her head back, asking, “But Rabbi Yeshua will return, won’t he?”

He gently shook his head, tears welling in his own eyes. “He’s gone, child. He died today.”

“But… But he said he’ll always return to those who believe…. He said so….” The last words were a whisper fading into the dusty silence. He tried to draw his distraught daughter back into his embrace, but she was pulled away. With all the determination she could muster, she marched to the side of their home and uprighted the fallen ladder, climbing back onto the rooftop.

Shaking his head, he mounted the ladder and poked his head above the roofline. The child stared toward the city gate through which Yeshua was escorted to Golgotha. Evening fell early under the dark sky, but there was an inner light shining in his young daughter’s eyes. He gently asked, “What are you looking for, Amit?”

“I’m watching for Rabbi Yeshua’s return, Abba.” she quietly replied.

Tears rolled over his cheeks into his beard as he climbed onto the rooftop, standing beside her. Wordlessly, he placed his hand on her slim shoulder, watching with her as the environs slowly grew darker. Sunset approached; it was time for his wife to light the candles and for them to recite the Kiddush. He helped his daughter down from the roof and inside.

All through the Shabbat (Sabbath), Amit was quieter than usual, much quieter. She was deep in thought with a determined look that never left her features. When the first three stars appeared that evening, she approached her father, “Rabbi Yeshua has been gone for over a day now,” she started matter-of-factly. “He’ll be hungry. Let’s prepare some food we can leave out for him to eat when he returns.” Her mother was about to countermand her wishes, but her father solemnly nodded his assent. She practically skipped to the chicken coup in the courtyard, gathering the eggs to boil. As the hearth fire cooked the eggs and slowly heated the baking stones, she helped her mother prepare the matzoh and the evening’s meal.

A few hours later, Amit wrapped a warm shawl around her head and shoulders and gathered the basket containing a skin of wine, the hard-boiled eggs and matzoh. Her father held a lit lamp aloft, illuminating the dark road before them. While she had been out after dark before, for some unknown reason this night felt different, and her skin pimpled with a chill as the words of the first Pesach question echoed through her mind, *Why is this night different?* The familiar streets and known lamps in their stands, as well as the flickering light in the unshuttered windows and open doorways did not appear changed, but it felt as though she was seeing it all for the first time.

He escorted her down several streets; the aromas of the evening meals and fresh-baked matzoh filled the early night air, mingling with the scents of woodsmoke and heated lamp oil. Those scents faded as they exited through the city gates lit by smoking torches and made their way into a nearby garden. There he paused and placed a firm hand on her shoulder, turning her to face him. “Child, I’m taking you to the place where they laid the body of Rabbi Yeshua after he died on the cross.”

She nodded gravely; her determination only growing stronger. So he gestured with the lamp which path they should take. In a quiet part of the garden, there was a freshly-hewn tomb with a large stone rolled before the entrance, sealing it shut. Two bored guards entertained themselves with a dice game under the light of fluttering torches on poles to one side.

Her father gestured for silence and took the basket from her, passing her the lamp while indicating that she should hide its flame. Hugging the ground, he slowly and carefully made his way along the rocky outcropping opposite where the guards sat. Still several feet from the tomb, he gently placed the basket in a nearby bush and quietly retreated to his daughter’s side. Firmly grasping her hand, he led her quickly away from the guards. When they were a safe distance, she returned the lamp and whispered, “Did you leave the basket where Rabbi Yeshua would find it, Abba?”

He smiled and squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Child, if God in his wisdom led a serving woman to find the infant Moses in his basket among the river reeds, I’m certain God can help Rabbi Yeshua find that basket we left for him.”

She studied his face in the lamplight as they walked quickly. “You believe Rabbi Yeshua will return too, Abba.” It was not a question.

He paused and lowered himself to one knee, meeting her gaze levelly. “Amit, my daughter, I have heard of the many wonders Rabbi Yeshua has done. I believe he was, indeed, sent by God to our people. If he told you he’d return, perhaps… just perhaps he will. We shall see.” He stood upright, affectionately squeezed her hand in his and together they headed home in mutual peace and understanding through the night air filled with Pesach songs.

In the darkness before the dawn, someone gently touched Amit’s cheek, awakening her from a deep sleep. A soft voice whispered in her ear, “Be quiet, child, and come outside.” Careful not to disturb her siblings sleeping in the same bed beside her, she slipped out of the warm covers and shivered in the chill desert night air. Barefooted, she left the sleeping room and padded across the main room past the banked hearth fire and out the open door. Under a moon only days past its full face, Yeshua stood smiling at her as he stood there in brilliantly white robes. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and drew her unkempt hair away from her face. “Rabbi? Is that you?” she whispered.

His teeth showed clearly in his beard as he grinned broadly. “It is I, Amit,” he whispered back. He held out the empty basket. “Thank you for your gift.”

She accepted the basket and was about to reach up to bestow a kiss upon his cheek, but he stepped back. “Touch me not, child, for I have yet to go to my Father.”

She pouted. “You are leaving Jerusalem again?”

“For a time, but I will Return to those who believe. I will always return.” With another smile and a friendly wave, he passed through the courtyard gate.

Racing to the gateway, she looked up and down their street, but he was nowhere in sight. Closing the gate, she clutched the basket to her heart and told herself, “He’ll return someday, and I’ll be waiting.”

- ESA