Making

A life spent making mistakes is not only more honorable,
but more useful than a life spent doing nothing.

George Bernard Shaw

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(Bunratty Folk Museum, demo of making an apple pie / Bunratty Castle, Co Clare, Ireland / Julie Cook / 2015)

“What are we going to make of Christ?
There is not question of what we can make of him,
it is entirely a question of what he intends to make of us.”

C.S. Lewis except The Strangest Story of All

Too much energy and time is often spent in the lofty theological defense and discussions of the conundrum of Christ and His place within the sphere of humankind.
Did He?
Didn’t He?
He said…
No, rather He meant….
He is…
He is not…

He desires not our time spent in the endless arguing, fussing and cussing…
with both believers and non believers over those issues He finds both tiny and small…
But rather and more importantly…
He desires much much more…
He desires, longs for and most certainly prefers…
our becoming,
our doing,
our living…
our allowing…
Allowing Him to work through our hands, our heads and our heart…

Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart,
as working for the Lord, not for human masters…

Colossians 3:23

Best intentions

“Hell is paved with good intentions.”
― Samuel Johnson

“A good intention, with a bad approach, often leads to a poor result.”
― Thomas A. Edison

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(Variegated Fritillary visits the heather / Julie Cook / 2015)

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(Variegated Fritillary visits the heather / Julie Cook / 2015)

Best intentions are not always best—and sometimes it takes a lifetime to finally, sadly, remorsefully understand such wisdom.
What is it that they, those anonymous and innocuous wise sages, say about that proverbial road to hell?
The one I fear I’ve spent a lifetime paving?

Despite the poor choice of yielding to those intended intentions, time and time again we see that it is actually our hearts which often steer us toward the kinder and gentler offering rather than the more difficult.
Which may just prove that it is indeed better to lead with one’s head, rather than one’s heart.

As a people we tend to lean toward wanting to be kind not tough, soft not hard.
And yet it seems that we as a people learn best by the harder knocks in life.
Those lessons in life that spare neither our feelings nor hearts.

As parents we experience all of this first hand do we not?
Tueri et provide — to protect and provide is the creed and motto of any parent.
We spend most of our time and energies wanting, and / or doing, just that for our children—
Yet it is not always the better decision, stance or choice.
A child’s hard lesson learned is usually a well lesson learned—it may be painful in the beginning, especially for the observing parent, but a great reward of character for the child in the long run.

And with all this talk of good intentions, one should know that inevitably there’s a whole lot of reaping and a whole lot sowing to be had.
And sadly good intentions don’t always seem to reap a like kind.
Instead they often times reap a whole lot of uncomfortableness, misfortune and misery.
Leaving behind those well intended souls, in the wake of the aftermath, like a deer in headlights wondering what just happened.

Thankfully there is another small thought or motto that has become a bit of a life-line
or actually it’s really more of a short sweet prayer which helps me through those moments when my best intentions get the better of me. . .

God, I blew it so please renew it. . .

And so once again, in this thing called life, as I look back on those intentions that may have, at the time seemed best yet rather turned out to be anything but best—even overflowing with negative repercussions, I once again offer up my prayer—
“God, I blew it. . .again. . . and it’s a mess, and only you can “renew” it. . .please help”

The importance of keeping one’s head

Never bend your head. Always hold it high.
Look the world straight in the eye.

Helen Keller

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(a preening gull /Henderson State Park, Florida / Julie Cook / 2015

We can hang our heads,
cover our heads,
hide our heads
or. . .
we can keep our heads,
raise our heads
and hold our heads high. . .

If

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same:.
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build’em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

Rudyard Kipling

Head on a plate

We are not diplomats but prophets, and our message is not a compromise but an ultimatum.
Aiden Wilson Tozer

Beloved, believe not every spirit, but try the spirits whether they are of God: because many false prophets are gone out into the world.
1 John 4:1

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(howling winds usher in a foreboding change / Julie Cook / 2015)

Surely the day is coming; it will burn like a furnace. All the arrogant and every evildoer will be stubble, and the day that is coming will set them on fire,” says the Lord Almighty. “Not a root or a branch will be left to them. But for you who revere my name, the sun of righteousness will rise with healing in its rays. And you will go out and frolic like well-fed calves. Then you will trample on the wicked; they will be ashes under the soles of your feet on the day when I act,” says the Lord Almighty.
“Remember the law of my servant Moses, the decrees and laws I gave him at Horeb for all Israel.
“See, I will send the prophet Elijah to you before that great and dreadful day of the Lord comes. 6 He will turn the hearts of the parents to their children, and the hearts of the children to their parents; or else I will come and strike the land with total destruction.”

Malachi 4:1-5

Who is this strange man, dirty and crazed?
This man who calls the wilderness home?
He is nothing more than a poor homeless clout.
Perhaps a demon possessed spirit,
who has been driven mad by the winds and rain.

Was he not one of us, born here amongst us?
Was he not raised as us, nestled in our safety?
Who is he to proclaim the word of God?
Yet why do we find ourselves unable to meet his eyes, his glance.

A seer, a visionary, a prophet, a fool.
He talks to the birds, the lizards and to anyone who would give him ear.
“Repent” and “prepare” are the tools of his trade
“Yet look not to me” he proclaims, “for there is one who comes, much greater than I. . .”
“I only point the way. . .”

And the people of the land laughed.
They mocked and pointed, hiding behind bravado and ego.
Yet individually, they each wondered.
They questioned.
They fretted.
They squirmed in their shoes.

His words penetrated to a place no one felt comfortable to visit.
His stare made them feel dirty and wrong.
So they laughed harder and made merry with abandon.
Uncomfortable.
Guilty.
Yet some were compelled to listen, even eventually choosing to follow.

His words relentless, his message never faltering.
Day and night he hammers the same message as if hammering a stake penetrating the souls of the masses.
More people turn, they listen, they follow.
However not all heed his words.
Those in authority grow wary, nervous.
They scream amongst themselves, “Silence the madman”

Plots and schemes are formulated.
An arrest is planned.
Betrayal is at hand.
Recant
Repent
Destroy
Prepare
Lust whispers in the darkness.
Greed reaches out its greasy hand.
Pleasure mingles with pain.
Yet his words remain the same.
“I am not the one whom you seek.
I am not the One.
I am but the messenger.
The one who was sent to prepare the way.
You will see, there will be One greater,
One who you cannot silence. . .”

All as a single head rolls, served upon a platter,
As the people resume their dancing and laughter,
Uneasiness reigns and the demons giggle with glee.
“Repent” and “prepare” swrill upon the foreboding winds. . .