Great truths packed in small packages.

Suggested reading, STepping Heavenward, the Heart of Anger, The Christian in Complete Armor, The Rare Jewel of Christian Contentment. Just a thought

Now, that I pass the hornet's nest everyday, it seems a game to

reflect on the sayings on the wall, as the bees come to the nest. The sayings on the walls are treasures from our forefathers. Stuff they wanted us to remember, when we see the building that was erected in that place. Still, we pass it by and rarely mull on the preamble and the other documents that went into the preamble's construction. That is like the game that they played in "El Dorado"; throwing the ball into hoops created years and years before. We throw our minds into what was the real expectation of the original signers and attempt to fulfill that mission or at least progress closer to it. The game of matching the principle with the reasoning and the expectation and how to progress unto it. I really never thought our forefather's were that smart to include, "Leviathan" or some of the other writings into their thinking when agreeing to preamble together. I thought of it as banging shackles off of one's self, as it were. That building's weaving those other thought's with the preamble is really a beautiful tapestry of freedom in the imagination.

And I stepped out of the car almost onto a hornet's nest... Blessings for the day for me...

I think Mother Day had cloud duty, because the clouds made the most beautiful picture that there could be. It was as though Mother Day said, we must comfort Jayne's heart for missing Sunken Meadow's and make a Sunken Meadow in the sky for her. She absolutely assured me that Mr. Day was saved by the grace of God and that the testimony to be received is that we must perservere in prayer for the railers in our midst, Not you, maybe someone in your row. Mr. Day amened by stating matter of factly that we railers have to stick together.--Were it not for grace...

To the glory of God, we know that Christ saves to the uttermost all that come to God through Him and even railers, though we might be the stair cleaners will glorify God for the privilege of being so in the presence of our Savior.

The moon was setting in the perfect position for me to see it and the clouds came below the moon and made a valley for me to peer through. Just as the sea and the sky come together off of the Sunken-Meadow Parkway. Then, right over the moon was the perfect 2 lines of dark clouds, way above to mark the distances between where we were and the higher clouds. It is really amazing to think about the care that our heavenly Father gives to His children, even caring about our missing sights. I guess Mrs. Day was saying that the Sunken Meadow in Heaven is even more breathtaking than the thought that she could design a skyscape for my day.

Ad Hoc Praises to God.

The bird community in our neighborhood is very interactive, even though I don't get outside to talk to them often. I haven't been able to buy a bag of bird seed for them and they are still my friends. Two days ago I saw a hummingbird sit on a branch. This is very unusual. I see them flit and buzz around, occasionally. But, this hummingbird sat on a branch and really seemed to enter into the guitar music that I was playing. I haven't learned to strum yet, but they seem to relate to melodies plucked out simply and plainly. This little hummingbird was taking a moment to praise the Lord, between nectar hunting. He had a little friend that I saw who had no time for praising because the clouds were too close for that much comfort. It was certainly a time to find shelter from the storm. I was enjoying the moment of cloud gathering and bird watching and praising my Father in Heaven for comradery with the birds in gratitude. My one-stringed praise is very similar to their non-articulate praise and one day we will all be free to worship with our might the creator and redeemer.

It was so interesting to get an encore from the birds.

I never knew that they did that. When I came to the back door, three birds were on the three houses behind my house and they were all three doing the same thing. Making twirlies in the air around the perch that they had made on the gutters of the house. I certainly never saw something like that before. I see the birds do some strange things sometimes, but they usually polly-wolly-doodle{as I call it}, only with each-other. This time, I knew that they were letting me know that they were fans of the hymns that I was playing. I like that, they told me. God is above all of this and I was mostly playing for Him.

And, on the subject of birds; I saw 2 hummingbirds yesterday. One was sitting and listening to me play for quite a little while and the other was completely oblivious and set upon gathering whatever nectar could be had before the huge storm would come on us.

Oh when, oh when will we be free from the curse of this earthly epoch. Free in creation to sing God's praises unhindered. The birds are well aware that fallen, we can only entreat God for deliverance and that one day the earth will be free to "really praise Him!" Halleluia, that He will usher this in for us all! Maranatha

Amen

Learning to listen to the songs of the angels, was a great lesson at my previous job.

Perhaps it is only through the whistles of the hornets nests that they jam, but I had never heard the angel's jam as they did in insurances. At church, it is a simple song of rejoicing and delight. Insurance pillars are another place that the angels seemed very concerned and deliberate. I don't exactly know why, although I can surmise some of the reasons. That is not my interest in discussing them, today. It was the light show that was breathtaking, that I saw the other night. What a great and beautiful meeting of the angels in the sky. I was grateful to have been included or enlightened to their meeting.

It looked as though the angels get the privilege to dispense certain special abilities in the lightning. It looked like it was their web, like a spider's web. They take the principalities and put a lasso around them and make them subject to the Lord of All. This will never do, we must have this principality overcome that wicked thought pattern and take it captive. Has the church been praying about this or that wicked practice, overwhelming them in their days? The Church has prayed and so we will send that on the barge to the places where prayer is wont. Some of the battles of the spirit are flaming in the sky above us, as we contend in prayer, corporate prayer. What claims are in heaven have to do with whether the conditions are prayed for. Is the language dealing with problems in their culture? Are the children being tolerated or welcomed? Is mercy a forethought or an afterthought? How many children are learning of God's grace and mercy, before the hardening of the conscience? How many are slipping through the cracks? The claims of heaven are more specific and more eternal than those on the earth. Ours is the prayer and the activity part. It seems the angel's take the claims to heaven and dispatch the eternal consequences and the light show seemed to be a meeting, where they burned garbage and recycled what they could. It was beautiful, just the same.

This morning there was a narrow group of clouds rolling by...

They weren't full of water by any means. They didn't seem to even have air inside them. They trounced or staggered toward the sunrise, like an inebriated band after a long night of partying. None of them were paired off and so they went home to sleep off the cares. I don't know if they really partied last night, those clouds. Clouds have a way of always looking a bit tipsy. It might have been my lack of caffeine that tilted my judgment about these beauteous wonders of the Huntersville skyline, or it might just be my vivid imagination at work again. It was bound to be an on again off again cloudy interactive day.

The night clouds are making a ruckus, perhaps castigating their inebriated young-uns for their last night's romp, I imagine. Anyway, Helen whispered to me, Sing the "Blind man song" so I did. We giggled that she knows the blind man song to me and I know that the blind man song doesn't have blind man in it, it is just the wrong way that I sing it. I just can't help, falling in love with you. Blind men stay, It's not blind men, it's wise men stay, only fools rush in. As soon as I said it, I started laughing that Helen and I would be singing that song together. She can see stuff, she never could and I can't see things that I should see. That is why we are friends. Well after we laughed for a while about whether it was blind or wise to be wise or blind, we ended the song and we knew that we weren't singing it to each-other, but for eachother to converse on the dark concourse of life, between time and eternity. The things tha-t entertain earthlings so much is funny to those enjoying the completion of their course. I can't find my backhand, I tell Helen. She is singing to me to help me find it. Maybe if I laugh it will come back to me.