Monday, June 23, 2014

Grim Fairy Tales


I recently read something on Facebook that said to know one’s purpose in life, one need only think back to Second Grade. Instantly I remembered Miss Wilson’s class photograph at North Street School, and my reaction after reading a story called The Emperor’s New Clothes. To say that was resonating to that story is an understatement. It was more like vibrating -- zinging -- buzzing actually, like a tuning fork. Way back in 1953, when I was seven years old, I knew I was like the little kid in that story -- the only one in the village seeing that the Emperror wasn’t wearing a single stitch.
         Now I’m sixty-seven, so it’s sixty years later, and I’m still resonating with that little kid. By now I know that being able to see what others cannot does not make n[me better or higher than anyone else. In fact, my attempts t share what I am seeing generally pisses people off.

         If being a visionary includes this form of “sight” that many other do not have, then I am a visionary. And this I know: visionaries do not tend to win the popularity contest. In trying to say what I mean and mean what I say, I also try to not say it mean. But honesty does not always sound kind. To people in my immediate family, the type of writing I do has been deemed intrusive, inappropriate, and just plain mean. An entire book I wrote about the life with functional alcoholism received the following feedback from the closest thing I have to a sister, who said

We read the book. We loved the cover.

Others, mainly people in Twelve-Step Recovery, felt encouraged and inspired by the very same story. To their ears, it was honoring and full of hope to read something so true. In 2002, probably for my own sanity, I did a word study on the prophetic and wrote something called The Plight of the Prophet which I am posting separately under the label Listening to God.

         Nowadays, what I am seeing is a demise of a nation once so guided by the Light to be a Light on here on the earth. Freedom was protected here, based on an informed electorate voting to protect life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness -- period. It was about equal opportunity, not equal outcomes. It was up to each person to pursue his/her won path. Of course there would be a safety net for those unable to fend for themselves. But what I see is this: a safety HAMMOCK -- and an electorate so “dumbed down” that what the Emperor is wearing (and/or doing!) is simply not of interest in the least.

Our current president is, indeed, a self-appointed Emperor, but he is also the Pied Pier, the Mean Queen, and the man who killed the goose who laid the golden eggs. I believe we are looking at a wolf dressed up like Granny, and that he has come to eat Little Red Riding Hood (that’d be us) for dinner. We cannot see beneath his clever disguise. We cannot discern that just about everything he speaks is a lie.

Open the eyes of our hearts, LORD, to see with spiritual senses what cannot be seen by human wits and wisdom. Reveal to as many as are willing the spiritual sight to see You across the stormy water, standing there with open arms. May we run to You and be hid in You until these calamities have passed. Thank You, most holy, most high God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit! God of gods! Light of lights! Very God of very gods! Thank You for the hope we have in things unseen: the knowledge that You will indeed open the eyes of out hearts!


Forgive me for how much I post this adorable dog by Rachel Hale. She calls him Oscar. I call him Hoodwinked, Oh He Like Us.

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