Thank You, Old Stories, And A Given Message!

 First off . . . THANK YOU . . . for your GODLY timed, inspired--yes, I dare say that! Praise God!--encouragement!....hearing my own cry in the winds and wilderness of the swarming, swirling times.

I'm not one for telling tales of woe, complaining, "fishing" . . . nope.  I am grateful every day, regardless the challenges of life. . . . For one thing, I haven't really ever expected anything less, since a child when I recognized the world I was in.  "Not my world, I want to go Home", I use to write in poem, song, artwork, since early grade school.  I use to sit alone, many times, on a hill, in a park, looking at the beautiful sunset, in my soul, melancholy, bittersweet, feeling as a "stranger in a strange world" . . . "take me Home" . . . "I do not belong here" . . . there must be a mistake. . . . BUT, as I matured, I knew there was no mistake.  This is God's will and I (as able) humbly bow down and accept, no regrets, no excuses.  

 And then I found myself thinking, last night, today, what can I give?  What more am I able to give for such friendship, help. . . ?

  I recall some early childhood fantasies, dreaming. . . . One was where I imagined and designed in my mind (I was around 9 or 10 yrs old--the dreaming time of young life) . . . and thought, hmmm, if I had lots of money . . . I would have a big old, shabby looking old Victorian-ish house in an old city neighborhood--it would look disheveled on the outside, a bit overgrown (although keen eyes would note that the plants and wild foliage were quite happy and well-fed/watered/loved). . . . Then, however . . . if and when a friend or whoever . . . came inside . . . would find it would be a well-kept, loaded-with-treasures, very fine, clean well-appointed and extravagant treasure-trove of appreciated antiques, antiquarian books, art, great food etc., available and alive. . . . ALSO, the other fantasy was something like being "the secret millionaire" . . . where, I would have some sort of inheritance or whatever in the bank . . . and I would go out into the streets, disguised, shabby . . . led by The Spirit . . . and enjoy finding needy, unexpecting people in the usual hard times . . . and give them a surprise boon.  I use to fantasize about that . . . imagining if I were in that position to do . . . what a blessed, fun time to have, doing that!

Heh.  I always had the sense that that wouldn't probably happen.  Although, I will say that me and my wife have done miniature versions of that all through the years when able and when opportunity has provided.  

Well, and sorta funny related sidenote re "philanthropic" impulses. . . . When I was 24 . . . married, two little boys . . . involved with one of the most technologically advanced movie/music sound studios in the country . . . as Head Engineer/Composer etc., I decided to meet with John Browning, seeking funding for my big personal musical ideas (John browning of Browning Arms Company--yes, THAT Browning company who made all the guns and stuff and then got into oil).... 

ANYWAY, I sat across the desk from John . . . me, rocknroll haircut, rocknroll boots, full of myself, idealistic, full of energy and ideas, pitching my music and philanthropic ideas, lol.... I told him that I thought private prisons and animal refuges would be a good investment ( BUT DONE RIGHT!--IN A GOOD WAY!) it could be a nice way to take the money made off my cutting-edge music/creative ideas, productions, and put it to a GOOD use! ...... He chuckled. . . . Then he said, "why would I want to do that?"

Yeah, I was full of hutzpah!.... Young and bold and idealistic.  Him? Old, tired, decadent, (though funny, smart  I will say) . . . . 

So, I could see he was not interested in spiritual or Godly purposes, and so, I asked him, "So . . . then . . . tell me, just curious . . . who would be YOUR basic "spiritual" or intellectual polestar?"

He chuckled again.  Him in his little black suit and bow-tie, 10am meeting in his office there in his Ogden mansion with the Japanese servants. . . . He was amused.  After a bit, he said, "hmmm, I guess, Bertrand Russell. . . ."

Because I've always been a reader, I knew what that meant.  I immediately thought of BR's (icky) book "Why I Am Not A Christian".

I knew then, yeah, we are "oil and water".  

Anyway, there was a bit more involvement for a couple years, but, he was pretty well shot by then.  Enervated . . . too long decadent and Godless . . . not one for Spiritual objectives in this world.  Instead, he was interested in cornering the market on the technologies to utilize "shale oil" somewhere in the ocean near Australia. . . .

------------------

Lol.  Sorry for the excursion down memory lane.  That suddenly tangent story was not what I was thinking of giving. . . . Perhaps it has some value somewhere, I don't know. . . .

------------------

What I MEANT to say . . . and what came into my mind, Given, when thinking of something I could give . . . is simply this, this is what He said to share:

>>Look into the mirror.  Look into your eyes.  Hold the gaze.  Feel His Presence.  The eyes are truly the window to the Soul.  Look into your own eyes, in the mirror.  Hold it.  Feel His Presence.  He is here!  HE IS WITH YOU ALWAYS!<<

. . . . that is what is was given to give at this time. . . . It feels a bit awkward, embarrassing. . . . Do it anyway.  He is with you always.  He is close, closer than you ever imagine, ready to talk, to guide, to comfort. . . .