Archive for mercy

My Sorry State of Mind

Posted in story with tags , , , , , on November 20, 2011 by Tim R Wilson

A story for a Saturday Night ….

 

My Sorry State of Mind

     Escaping into the night from room 114, embarking on another adventure alone in another lost coastal town, I entered some strange and grungy little leisure pit on the Highway.

     “What a mess …” This was my first thought as I entered this god-forsaken squalor of a diversion. The Sailor Jack. That was the designation of this woeful excuse for a tavern. The roadhouse had been well named, for all of its patrons appeared a bit crusty around the edges, save the business type lurking at a corner table close to the door. Why not, can’t dance. I staggered boldly forth into the unknown, receiving strange hesitant glances from the onlookers.

     “Ciao!” I shouted to a group of bystanders over the uproar. They seem taken aback by attempt at human contact. So I shuffled on over to the at home with comfort of a nearby bar stool.

      “Barkeep. I’ll take a shot of your finest tequila and a glass of Bud.”

     “Are you certain Sir?” He asked in his shady backwater accent.

     “Yes, I’m sure dammit!” In fact I wasn’t all that sure, having consumed my personal weight in alcohol watching a large slice of a “Law and Order” marathon in my motel room prior to arriving.

     I turned to soak up my surroundings as best as I could. Somewhere in here lay the solution to my problems tonight. Something or someone in here would be my muse. A lady, a tête-à-tête, a portrait of a far off, nonexistent seascape. Or perhaps a view from a clandestine, untouched, moonlit veranda submitting some place with a fractured glimmer of romanticized illusion, left slightly still contained and cherished within it.

     Yet, it seemed I would find nothing of the sort in here. This ignoble hell-hole seemed to be sucking the very life out of me with every breath I took.

     “Where’s my goddamned tequila?” I slammed my palm on the bar.

     And then he door opened and she entered. The sultry temptress of my dreams. Could she be it? The muse I have so desperately been searching for? Could it indeed be that at this very moment as she seemed to approach? Law and Order be damned!

     Her walk was intoxicating, with an extraordinary, almost hypnotically enchanting effect. Her eyes look as if to contain their own peculiar prowess, and yet simultaneously a suggestion of naïveté as though she was lost in this angst-ridden world, just as I was.

     She drew near … Closer … Closer … Very much in front of me. Directly in front of me. My eyes widened in expectation as to what words those delicate lips would form.

     “Hiya doll, know where a girl like me could have a little fun?”

     It was as though the shear sonic force of her voice was going to shake me off my seat. It was like nothing that I’ve heard before. Her voice fractured all enchantment surrounding her. Her tone was jarring and nasal, and gave the same impression of as that of a drug addled socialite sent to live with the huddled masses as a part of a cruel social experiment.

     “Pardon me Ma’am?” I uttered aghast at this spectacular paradox of beauty.

     “Care to dance sailor?”

     Again her voice pierced my auditory canal, and rattled my skull. I looked her up and down and measured the conflicting qualities of this living; breathing proof that god had graced me with his sense of humor. While her physical beauty in my besotted eyes was unquestionable, nonetheless I determined she was no muse. Still I concluded that she would in fact make a suitable companion for the night. On one small condition …

     “I would very much love to dance, but only if you promise to say as little as humanly possible.”

     There was a moment of silence between us. This crass but inviting strumpet seemed to be sizing me up, determining what purpose swam beneath my alcohol enriched veins. And then …

     She responded nonchalantly, “Sounds good to me.”

     And then we danced, my inebriated state filling me with a furthered passion, my limbs flailing wildly and enmeshing themselves with hers. We were like two frogs caught in the intimate hold of a net. We ordered another round and laughed, chortled, and yes talked and danced some more.

     It seemed that I had in fact been graced with a temporary cure for my sorry state of mind.

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Do It Anyway

Posted in Christian, Christianity, Philosophy, poem, quote(s), scripture, thoughts with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on November 9, 2011 by Tim R Wilson

I got this poem off my ex-wife’s Facebook of all things! It is something I have to take to heart for sure and just wanted to share it with you all!

Mother Teresa wrote this poem –

People are often unreasonable,
illogical and self-centered;
Forgive them anyway.

If you are kind,
people may accuse you of selfish ulterior motives;
Be kind anyway.

If you are successful,
you will win some false friends and true enemies;
Succeed anyway.

If you are honest and frank,
people may cheat you;
Be honest anyway.

What you spend years building,
someone could destroy overnight;
Build anyway.

If you find serenity and happiness,
they may be jealous;
Be happy anyway.

The good you do today,
people will often forget tomorrow;
Do good anyway.

Give the world the best you have,
and it may never be enough;
Give the world the best you’ve got anyway.

You see, in the final analysis,
it is between you and God;
It was never between you and them anyway.

Read more at Mother Teresa Poem : Do It Anyway

Foot Washing

Posted in Christianity, Jesus with tags , , , , , , , on December 15, 2010 by Tim R Wilson

This picture just stopped me …

 


Confessional

Posted in Christian, Christianity, God, thoughts with tags , , , , , , on May 21, 2010 by Tim R Wilson

A few years ago there was this movie Phone Booth which pointed out our culture’s growing need for confession, even from a secular viewpoint. What’s the attraction all about? Is a new “confession-craze” dawning, or do you see something different, something deeper?

Repentance is good for the soul, and we cannot be Christians without it. Many a “Christian” believes that if he simply mutters his confession into his pillow at night, that is good enough. God may very well hear and forgive, however the sinner robs himself of absolution through Christ’s body, The Church. James says in his epistle, “Confess your trespasses to one another, and pray for one another that you may be healed.” (James. 5:16)

“Private” confession to God is nowhere taught in scripture, and this practice is probably responsible for the millions of dollars spent in this country every year on mental health professionals, dealing with “guilt feelings,” instead of dealing with the actual guilt through the sacrament. It is important to understand, that if we have trouble confessing our sins to a priest, a fellow sinner, how can we confess our sins to the righteous and Holy God?

Just some thoughts on a Friday … Tim

glory of friendship

Posted in odds and ends, quote(s) with tags , , , , , on March 21, 2010 by Tim R Wilson

The glory of friendship is not the outstretched hand, nor the kindly smile, nor the joy of companionship; it is the spiritual inspiration that comes to one when he discovers that someone else believes in him and is willing to trust him with friendship.”

[[-by: Ralph Waldo Emerson-]]

“We need to forgive one another for not being God!”

Posted in Christian, Christianity, God, Philosophy, quote(s) with tags , , , , , , , , , on March 9, 2010 by Tim R Wilson

I found this quote interesting and wondered what you thought. Tim


Forgiveness, the Cement of Community Life


“Community is not possible without the willingness to forgive one another “seventy-seven times” (see Matthew 18:22). Forgiveness is the cement of community life. Forgiveness holds us together through good and bad times, and it allows us to grow in mutual love.


But what is there to forgive or to ask forgiveness for? As people who have hearts that long for perfect love, we have to forgive one another for not being able to give or receive that perfect love in our everyday lives. Our many needs constantly interfere with our desire to be there for the other unconditionally. Our love is always limited by spoken or unspoken conditions. What needs to be forgiven? “We need to forgive one another for not being God!”

Visit HenriNouwen.org

Bless The Broken Road

Posted in Christian, Christianity, God, Jesus, Philosophy, poem, thoughts with tags , , , , , , , , , on March 2, 2010 by Tim R Wilson

Every long lost dream

Led me to where you are

Others who broke my heart

They were like Northern Stars

Pointing me on my way

Into your loving arms

This much I know is true

That God blessed the broken road

That lead me straight to you….

(Rascal Flatts, “Bless The Broken Road”)

It has been a difficult week! Now, I know – I’m no saint. Never have been. And I trust in the Gospel, that all who believe and are baptized will be saved. But it’s hard, at times, to recognize that it’s at least partly my failures at truly righteous living that have brought me (and those I love) to these kinds of impasses. A friend suggested to me that there is a big difference between prayers of supplication where I turn my prayer concern over to God and let it go, and praying just to manipulate God into giving me what I want. Ouch. There are many days I still can’t find the line between those two. I know beyond any doubt that I know how to do the latter much better than the former.

And then there are the words from singer Wayne Watson’s old classic, “Home Free:”

Out in the corridor,

We pray for life

A mother for her baby

A husband for his wife

Sometimes the good die young

It’s sad but true

But while we pray for one more heartbeat

The real comfort is in You

You know, pain has little mercy

And suff’rings no respecter or age

Of rank or position

I know that every prayer gets answered

But the hardest one to pray

Is slow to come

“O Lord, not mine

But your will be done….

Yeah, no kidding, Wayne. When I heard of older children’s ‘difficulties’ so to speak, I told him, “I keep telling God, ‘You’re not checking my list!’ And the fact that I even have a list is a good sign that I’m not quite all there, spiritually…”

In the end, I have to come back to the simple answer: God is God, and I am not. This side of the final trumpet, I will never know the “whys.” All I can do is sing and pray Wayne Watson’s chorus:

Home free

Eventually

At the ultimate healing

We will be home free…