From last week’s post:
|Decades ago, I conceived The William Tell Show in response to the pain I heard on the airwaves in the world of talk radio. If we can cast aside all theories, opinions, beliefs, ideologies and value judgments, and attend instead merely to What Is, we may be able to begin from a state of agreement.
|What Is is indisputable.
Until now, I’ve paid no attention to Trump’s tweets. It’s clear that I could spend all my time deconstructing them according to the guidelines of Free Speech Handbook. But this is not my only task in life.
Two recent ones, however, caught my eye.
He points people directly away from What Is. Continue reading Donald Trump isn’t helping.
This guy sure got worked up. Too bad it’s all fake.
Continue reading Jason James Britt
“God is our refuge and strength,
a very present help in trouble.”
— Psalm 46:1
I am aging much faster than I’d like. Continue reading Scary
There is no truth without love.
Put differently, an open mind requires an open heart. Continue reading Open heart
The best I can do for them, is to do the best I can for me.
The last post, “Dwight C. Wells,” sent me into a hell of a funk.
Continue reading A better life for me
The story of Dez Bryant’s childhood nearly gave me nightmares.
Continue reading Dez Bryant, love and responsibility
Hostility and turmoil pervade the places you don’t want to go. The spiritual darkness is palpable at noon, and the folk are too lacking in self-love to organize their lives.
The area around my church is nowhere near that bad, but still significantly distressed.
Prayer for my congregation is inseparable from prayer for that ‘hood, and I engage in such prayer every day. Continue reading 6) Emanate love.
Ambrose and Olga Worrall seem to have said in The Gift of Healing, that the way to grow in one’s abilities in healing prayer is merely to seek always to be the best person one can be. Continue reading It’s not complicated.
On one occasion sometime between 1983 and 1990 — I can recall where I was living, but not where I was working — I came home from work and became suicidal. I don’t recall the basis of my agony, but it almost certainly pertained to certain foibles of “the flesh” that my “spirit” seemed powerless to overcome.
A former student had left a cassette tape at my door that day, full of music he wanted to share with me, beginning with “Bad” by U2. I had a second floor apartment, and had sometimes heard this from the boom boxes of people who walked by outside; and I knew what effect it would have on me, particularly the opening section, with the bells. Given my state, for that reason I intentionally delayed playing it.
When I couldn’t bear the pain any more, I put it on, and was at once transported from the pit of despair into a place of perfect peace. I count this as a case of divine intervention: by means of that young man and that music, God saved my life.
Continue reading A short route to agony