A thought of God, and the Imago Dei.

 Wearing a non-descript beret, aimlessly walking about the riverfront, Culbert Flemming.

I lapsed into a dream.

I wondered of God, what He was thinking of, was He thinking of me, and so on, so forth.

Indeed, I had the commonality feeling, the shared experience of all, in living in the glow of the Lord; furthermore that the glow meant that not one of us was out of His reach, no matter the circumstances, no matter the depth of depravity we might descend toward.  It would be impossible for us, of course, but a mere thought to Him to bring it off, and with ease.

Culbert Flemming could be redeemed and made anew, regenerated as it were, even rebranded, restored.

I could.

Anyone could.

Be made whole.

All with that equal packaging twine synapse that not only holds us together, but attaches each one to each other one individually, quadrillions of connections for a few billion people: all one, or all looking in that light to be, if not together, then at least sharing an equal measure of God between us.

The analog brain of all reality, the cosmos, the world, the flesh and the devil, and the imagination of God, and in something as simple an inconsequential as a single thought, a life made new, different and so much for the better.

The analog Culbert Flemming wandering along just like the overall itinerary of the known future--a projection?  an analyst estimate?  Sauce for the goose, it is, and it is all the glorious, unlimited mind of God.  Culbert Flemming's wandering might be the emblem of that musing that seems to mark so much of our lives, our own imaginations, with that Imago Dei, that small ember of the larger Corona of the thoughts of God.

A future, you say?

Let me consider it, I respond.

Nature held us, higher brain existence, thirst of experience. A blurb.

Nature held us before we were, and nature will welcome us back when we cease consciousness, my friend. 

A prolonged elapsation of higher brain functions gawking into it's own measure of eternity. 

We drink deep of experience and time, but never to be fulfilled, to churn and roil and vibrate as if in agony--until, at once, "blessed are the sleepy...", we blink into eternity and out of these mundane concerns.

Contemplation beyond reason and emotion.

 Am I therefore become your enemy because I tell you the truth?  Galatians 4.

So often we might see a good person die "too soon" or a random act of violence, and befuddled, we wonder if its really God's plan.  What I find as much peculiar as those things is that our own horrid imaginations are part of the same vibrant, limitless Living God.

Had I became so enlightened as to condescend to give advice, Lucillus?  Nay, I tell you, for the advice was merely a recounting of anything anyone at all might suffer through, in their own time.  The collected moments in the Cheraw IGA parking lot notching time while Mother shopped, sort of collectively assembled as a piecemeal 40 days in the wilderness, smiling like a spud into the camera of my phone.  Given the option to sit, stay or do nothing, I had not prayers to give, nor curses or recitations, but was taken up by the expenditure of life that is sitting and waiting.  Contemplation, beyond either emotion or reason.

Spiting the polo shirt from Human Resources, and the tether that holds the man to all.

 Prize Wisdom highly and exalt her, and she will exalt and promote you; she will bring you to honor when you embrace her.  

-Proswerbs 4:8

“A generous person will be prosperous, and one who gives others plenty of water will himself be given plenty."

Proverbs 11:25

Adner Salvo was a tiny part of a large machine: a major soda vendor, a worldwide corporate juggernaut with a much-loved product, but Adner of course, had a menial part of that, such without reputation and glory, as to work the warehouse section of the bottling plant--spending hours on end minding a pallet truck, tooting his airhorn at passageways, and with that weird yellow caution lamp blipping in spasm.

In the corporate milee, one could lose perspective, or lose one's place, with corporate mantra's and silly morale-boosting meetings, with at least one Human Resources degree in the crowd barking like a fool in the name of the bottom line.  "I did my job", they could say, but did the lose track of some fundamental part of their humanity in the process?  What was the hourly worth, really, in the long run, if one was miserable all along?

He was holding for acreage, a legacy, plugging away his time either miserable or half-miserable in a satirical leer, as he tried to earn a down payment on a nest egg.  

Posterity.

Something that tied his progeny to the earth, a mighty tether, a willing yoke that a man wears to let the world know he was there: a tangible asset, such that it's taxed annually, titled and surveyed, a matter of record tied to the man's name.

Futurity.

And yet, on the low-end of the corporate spectrum one could lose perspective, one could lose meaning, no matter how many polo shirt Master's Degrees tried to spread mirth before the lowest level of the rung--

--that tether could come loose if one didn't maintain an objective truth, like God and His son, the truth of the third day and the promise of the return.  Not people you have to ask who or what they are, or people who make curiosity an evil self-immolating concept.

God is wisdom, love, and mercy, and He upbraideth not--and His son?  His burden is light, he says, and his yoke easy, even as he bears the entire fate of mankind on one appears to be human shoulders--with human temptations and lapses of emotion--made sin, the sinless, and finished good, for a time later appointed to return when all are one.

The Samaritan Woman story and Pittard Trethewy's fits and starts daily.

"Hurry up and wait! Hurry up and wait!"  was all they told Pittard Trethewy.  All the time.

Hurry up to the chow line, and wait in line for 25 minutes.

Hurry up and eat, so you can wait to form-up and exit in formation.

Even hurry up to you own death, where you wait two days in a freezer before saying goodbye, and then?  Why, it was too much for a simple boy from a village named Neuwiscky back in the old country, all the "hurry up and wait!", contrary attitudes of being that kept him off-balance in body and mind.

Hurry up and wait!

Then the wait before glory!

The Samaritan Woman had lived a confusing life, one suspects, unsure of what she wanted for life, searching aimlessly and never quite finding fulfillment.  She had different partners, and an estranged husband somewhere in Samaria--her life had been one long search, and so many disappointments.

Until that day at the well, when Christ said, "if you knew of this water, you would never thirst again."

"I perceive you are one of the prophets!"  And she spread word in town, and they publicized his presence, and would come to see.

And the disciples returned to the well with bread, and were perplexed that the Lord resting, and that he hungered not; not by bread alone, but by every word of the truth of God--the bread of life.

The end to suffering that is the hope in Christ--from turning water to wine at a party, to washing the disciple's feet.  An end to suffering, and in humility and forthrightness, an end to sorrow and shame.

...as nigh in our minds....

 If we are afflicted, it is for your comfort and salvation; and if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which you experience when you patiently endure the same suffering that we suffer.  Our hope for you is unshaken; for we know that as you share in our sufferings, you will also share in our comfort.

1 Corinthians 1:7

I would not trouble you with our torment unto death at Caesar Philippi, but rather edify you to your own good purpose; rejoice furthermore as we live to contest again for the cause of Christ, and the message of the power of Christ crucified.  For we glory in tribulation, and as we know of these things, its a narrow turn-around time so often, such that we must go forward boldly, and with the crowing of the cocks and the milking of the cows.

Lamented our very lives in Caesar Philippi, we did, but it was for the cause of Christ, and a case for mercy.

As ever, the Kingdom is at hand--God's glory as nigh in our minds as our senses, and in our hearts, we sit near the throne and plead the cause Kingdom and ongoing mercy.

The cause of Christ is what some call the "constant regeneration" or the constant "generation" of Christ, Christ being manifested within us through our attitudes, our prayers, our own plea of mercy and the hands we extend to the cause of peace.

Forget not the parakleton, the helper sent by Christ: the Holy Spirit; let love abound.  Indeed, with such a peace and joy in our hearts, we could fret only for the cause of the peace and joy of those in the diaspora.  If they knew this love, peace and joy would manifest within them, and so much, if the world were not obviously better, it would be at least quieter, and happier.

Peter, Paul and Viktor: life advice jigsaw puzzle.

 A re-jiggering of today's devotionals and other content, from 1 Corinthians, to the PGA, to the book of Isaiah.

No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man.  God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your strength, but with the temptations will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it.

In this you rejoice, though now for a little while you may have to suffer various trials, so that the genuineness of your faith, more precious than gold which though perishable by fire, may rebound to praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Christ.

If you then, being afar off, know how to give good gifts unto your charges and wards: how much more shall your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that ask him?

("You can have a nice little run, but then most of the time you kind of fall back to whatever, a more average week.  But his average week is just really, really good.")

And he said unto them, Take heed what you hear: with what measure you mete, it shall be measured to you