Season of Release

 Posted by Lisa Laree to Catching the Mosquito

10?  12?  Years ago I was in a small group for songwriters and poets.  We were given a creative assignment, to write about the Prodigal Son from the Father's point of view. 

This was my response... and I just realized it's another diary, lol.   It's also somewhere in the Inaccessible Facebook notes.

Dear Dad,

 Sorry to leave while you were out; Joshua and Adonijah came by and were in a hurry, so I left with them. I hope you understand.

 Thanks for giving me this chance!  Don’t think I don’t love you…I do…but I’ve got to get out from under all the expectations and restrictions here.  I’ll never find who I am if I don’t go out and find out what there is besides the farm and this little village.  There’s a whole world out there and I know there are bigger and better things for me than just being the little brother.  I’m going for the big city and the bright lights and where things are happening and people are doing important things.  I’m going to be SOMEBODY! 

 So don’t worry about me. I have plenty to get me established, and I’ve got all the plans made and laid out.  I’ll come back rich and famous someday…you’ll see.

 The guys are getting restless; I’d better go now.

 All my love,

 Eliam

 

 Day 1

So.  Today my son has left me.  He has taken my present and his future and gone out where I cannot follow, cannot guide, cannot help.  He thinks it is wisdom.  I pray he survives.  Adonai, watch over him and bring him back.   Spare him hunger and humiliation, if he will be spared.  If he will not, guard him through it and do not let it fail to teach him what he must know.  Remind him often that I love him.  Amen.

 Day 8

It has been a week now. His brother says little but is very short tempered with the animals and the servants. Surely he misses his younger brother terribly. I cannot talk of Eliam just yet; the wound is too fresh, the grief is too deep.  One of the neighbors said that he heard Eliam had been seen heading toward the part of town with the inns where women and wine are cheap and available. I hope and pray that was a case of mistaken identity, that Eliam would look for a respectable place to stay and not wander over to the seedy side of town.

 I have moved my chair to the gate of the house;  if Eliam comes home, I will see him.  No...when Eliam comes home, I will see him…

 

Day 31

One month.  I thought by now I would have begun to get used to the routine, but I find my thoughts constantly going to Eliam…is he safe? Has he secured his money so it cannot be stolen or swindled away?  He was not very savvy about such things; I worry that he will take up with people who will take advantage of his good heart and generous spirit. 

His brother has picked up the slack and made a good plan for distributing the work amongst the servants. But he still seems to me to be a smoldering coal; he is angry often and has been increasingly hard to please.  I shall have to speak to him about treating the servants with respect.  Whatever it is that is upsetting him, it is not their fault.

 

Day 61

 Still no word from Eliam after two months.  Aside from the occasional rumor that he is living it up with friends and a girlfriend, I know nothing at all of what is going on in his life.  I am assuming he is still in the city, although I don’t know that for sure.  The last word I had was that he was staying with some musicians, although that was through two or three connections and may not have been true.  I wish he’d write.  He could write.  Why doesn’t he write?

 I spend the mornings and evenings in my chair at the gate.  It is pleasant to speak to the neighbors as they pass by, although they all are too deliberate about not asking about Eliam.  If he had died, they would have sat shiva with me and mourned him, but a son who abandons his family is worse than dead…ah, my son, did you really know what you were doing to your family?  Did you care?  Adonai, cure him of his selfishness and self-centeredness, purify his heart so that this pain will not be wasted.  I can do nothing for him now…he is in your hands.  Deal with him as he must be dealt with but remember mercy and bring him home. Amen.

 

Day 182

 Half a year has passed since my son walked out into the world and left me desolate.  His brother has worked diligently; the last of the harvest has been stored and we are well ready for a bit of a rest.  It has been a good harvest and we have all we need.  If only Eliam were here to celebrate the harvest with us.  The rumors have completely stopped now; I hear nothing of him from those who travel to the city.  The musicians he supposedly befriended have moved on; he was not with them in the next town to which they were reputed to have gone.  I don’t know where he has gone

 I try not to think about this possibility, but I do not know if he is living or dead.

 It is chilly now, sitting in the chair by the gate, and the days move by slowly.  I am feeling my age.  I remember how Eliam would sit with me and wait for his older brother to return from his studies with the rabbi; even then he talked of things he wanted to do when he grew up.  Lord, Adonai, where is he?  Does he think of us here at all?  Bring him home….

 

 Day 240

 It is cold this winter; we have not had such a cold winter in years.  I wonder where Eliam is, and if he is warm and fed, if he is happy, if he successful, if he ever thinks of his family on the farm.  I wrap up well to sit by the gate, the dark sky and raw wind reflect my heart and emotions.  I realize I may never hear from Eliam; he could have gone far away by now. He could be dead, and we will never know.  With no word at all of even a rumor of his whereabouts, I fear it is one or the other…either he has traveled very, very far away or he has fallen to thieves or illness.  Adonai, as you love me, do not let me go to my grave without news of my son.

 I am very glad for his brother; I don’t think we could have handled the cold if he had not worked to pull in the straw for insulation; he has seen to the animals and we have lost very few to the weather.  He has been where I could not be, and in every case has made the right choice. Still, he speaks little, although he has improved his rough ways with the servants, he is still curt and unhappy. Perhaps he worries about Eliam as well.

  

Day 307 – the last day!

 I must write this quickly, as there is much to do.  Just before I left my chair this morning, I saw someone coming down the road.  As I waited, my heart lurched…surely, surely that walk was familiar.   I began to walk towards him, hoping against hope that my instinct was correct, that this was my boy returning again.  The closer I got, the more sure I became, and the faster I walked.  That was his walk, even though he limped.  That was his tousled head, even though his hair was matted and unkempt.  His head was down, looking at the ground as he trudged down the road. 

 At the moment I knew, I began to run.  He heard my steps and looked up; his eyes grew wide and he dropped to his knees. He was gaunt, haggard and dirty, and his voice cracked and wavered as he spoke.

 

‘Dad!’ he choked, ‘I’m not worthy to be your son.  I’ve made a mess of it.  I’ve lost everything.  If you’ll just hire me as one of your servants, I’ll be the best servant you’ve ever had. I’ll earn my keep.  Just let me stay here. Please…’ Tears were streaming down his face as he glanced up, fear and despair plain to see in his eyes.

 Tears were streaming down my face as I pulled him to his feet and embraced his bony frame. ‘You’re home!  You’re home!’ was all I could manage to say, over and over.

 I half held him up as we walked the last bit to the house together.  By the time we got to the gate, I had my voice back.  I called for the servants to take him and let him get cleaned up and dressed as a son of the house should be dressed,  then I called for others to kill the celebration calf and make a feast.

 His older brother is plowing with the oxen in the far field…he will be so surprised when he comes in for supper!  Oh, we shall have a party tonight!

 He’s home!  My son is home!  The winter is over and the spring has come!

Ignition

 Posted by Lisa Laree to Catching the Mosquito

A new piece!  Just freshly written! I debated posting it here because it's actually for something else...but since only about twelve folks have found this corner of the blogsphere I think it's ok. And posting written pieces is literally why we're here, so...going for it.

We have had a call at church to artistic types to create visual art and literature around a particular theme.  I was kind of mulling it over anyway, because the theme 'All Flame' seemed rather inspirational, and when I heard there was a request for poetry, stories, pictures, essays, etc. on that theme, I decided to have a go.

I thought I was going to write a poem; I think what I have is a spoken word.  A short one, but still...

I don't know if this is quality enough to be collected with other submissions, but I like it.  It expressed my reaction to the subject well.

Ignition

Looking with longing at the One whose Flame ignited the stars, created light from nothing, burns away the dross but leaves the gold and gems, and purifies hearts.

Reaching for that embrace that will consume all and yet is but a transformation into His own Image.

Stepping into the baptism that opens a world uncomprehended to those untouched by the searing, searching, look that knows fully and yet loves fully.

Releasing that which is too dark and heavy and self-absorbed to endure the incandescent heat of His Presence; the fear and the pride that recoil from submission to the process of rebirth.

Yielding to the pruning, the stripping, the purging, to cultivate that which is real and eternal and priceless.

Inhaling the pneuma with the tongues of fire that generates the sound that demands the world’s attention and extracts the question, “What IS this? This thing that we don’t know or understand?”

Refusing to be doused under a basket that society would slap down, to contain and tame the light that distinguishes truth from the shadows of lies.  It cannot be stifled, quenched, dimmed or extinguished by any who love the dark.

No weapon will prosper against that light, many waters cannot quench that flame.  It does not bend, does not change, does not compromise.  Full devotion is its hallmark;  purity is its signature. 

Do we dare? 

Will we refuse to shrink back?

Can we open our hearts wide enough,

Deny our selves honestly enough

Allow Him access enough

To truly

Become

All Flame?

“We hold these truths to be self-evident...”

 Posted by Lisa Laree to Catching the Mosquito

I didn't think I would put essays over here; thought they'd likely go onto one of the other blogs.  But this popped up in my Memories from the non- accessible Facebook notes and I thought it worth a repost.  So, yeah, essays may show up here too...

July 4, 1776...after a year of arguing and protesting against a government that refused to see the colonies as anything other than a source of revenue...a group of statesmen affixed their signatures to a document written primarily by Thomas Jefferson, declaring their autonomy and independence from that government. The war would grind on for 5 more years and involve France and Spain before the colonists, now calling themselves Americans, would accept the surrender of General Cornwallis at Yorktown on October 19, 1781. The final British troops would not withdraw from the cities of Charleston and Savannah until late 1782, and victory become official when Great Britain formally recognized the autonomy of the United States of America with the signing of the Treaty of Paris September 3, 1783.

It’s interesting that we don’t celebrate Independence Day on September 3, as that was when the US formally and legally became a separate nation, but that date is barely noted anywhere. It’s also surprising that we don’t celebrate Independence Day on October 19, the day Cornwallis surrendered, as was the end of the major conflict, but that date, too, is obscure and unremarked.

No, we celebrate Independence Day on the day 56 men, representing all thirteen colonies, put their names to a document that held some of the loftiest ideals that could ever be the foundation of a nation. The men that signed the document were far from perfect in implementing the ideals they proclaimed; products of their time, they didn’t even see the irony in declaring that ‘all men are created equal’ while they owned slaves. It took another century and another war to end that practice, but eighty years after that Martin Luther King Jr. proclaimed ‘I have a dream’...and his dream described a country that embraced the ideals it had been founded upon, because ‘all men are created equal’ was still not a reality. We are still struggling today for that ideal to be realized in actuality across our land. God willing, we will get it right.

But those founding fathers were reaching for ideals that they scarcely could imagine. No nation had ever had such a goal, such a declaration, in its founding. No one ever had a nation founded on the rule of law...that all were equal. They failed utterly in implementing it perfectly, but it is the standard they set in the beginning. Our best hope for our country is not in tearing down and destroying the legacy they left us, but in working together to truly implement the ideals they expressed...that all are equal under the law, and all people have the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. The Declaration of Independence and Constitution together provide unparalleled structure for a free society; it is our responsibility to uphold that structure to secure the blessings of liberty for ourselves and our posterity.

Banking by Relative Mathematics

 Posted by Lisa Laree to Catching the Mosquito

Here's another little thing that got published on the no-longer-accessible Facebook Notes.    My notes say that I originally wrote it in 2001;  I seem to remember it was prompted by a conversation with a friend who believed he could make his own truth, but that's just a shadowy thing and may not be right.  I do have an idea to turn it into a stage skit with a narrator, but that's not likely to happen.

Some things are just...true or not true...and all the sincere believing that can be mustered up will not change a truth into a preference, or a lie into reality....

Once upon a time, there was a bank.  It was a normal bank and carried on its banking business in the normal way.  Into this bank one day a young man walked…we’ll call him Joe.  Joe opened an account with the bank and deposited two hundred dollars into the bank.  The bank was happy, Joe was happy.  It was good.

            The next week, Joe walked into the bank and deposited another two hundred dollars into his account.  The bank was very happy to receive his money, Joe was happy that his money was well taken care of.  It was still good.

            The problem started about three days later, when Joe found a TV he wished to purchase for five hundred dollars.  Being somewhat distrustful of checks and credit cards, Joe decided to pay cash for his TV and went to the bank and attempted to withdraw five hundred dollars from his account.  The bank teller was as polite as she could be, but she still had to inform Joe that he could not withdraw five hundred dollars …he had only deposited four hundred dollars.

            Joe began to be just a bit testy.  “I put two hundred dollars into this account last week…and I put two hundred dollars into this account three days ago, right?”

            Looking at his transaction file, the teller agreed that that was correct.

            “Well, according to my personal perception of mathematical truth, that adds up to five hundred dollars.  I’ll take it now, please.”

            The teller was dumbfounded.  “But, sir, everyone knows that two hundred and two hundred is only four hundred!”

            Now Joe was beginning to be irate.  “I’m sorry, I do not agree with the axioms upon which mathematics is based.  No one can prove them to be true.  I think it is exceedingly intolerant of you to insist that the popular application of mathematics is the only true one.  You are imposing your belief system on me, and I do not appreciate it.  All my life people have refused to consider that my viewpoint is a valid viewpoint; from kindergarten on I have been ridiculed and persecuted for my beliefs.  As I see it, two plus two equals five, and you are denying the validity of my person by stubbornly denying the validity of my belief!”

            The teller was beginning to be a bit nervous, now, and wondered if she should signal the security guard.  However, just at that moment, a rather good-looking man in impeccable business attire stepped up and spoke to Joe.

            “Do forgive me for intruding, but I couldn’t help but overhear.  I must say, I entirely sympathize with your viewpoint.”

            Both surprised, Joe and the teller said at the same time, “You do?”  The fact that Joe spoke with hopeful delight and the teller spoke with profound incredulity seemed to mean nothing to the gentleman as he continued.

            “Yes, yes.  Allow me to introduce myself.  I am Murphy Stoffies,” the gentleman said, handing Joe a business card as he continued, “My business associates and I have felt for years that the current intolerant treatment of mathematical truth must be shown to be completely unworkable for today’s society.  We have opened a banking establishment especially for those who, like yourself, have been disenfranchised from society due to their mathematical views.  If you would care to withdraw your funds from this traditional, narrow-minded organization and deposit them with our firm, you will find that you will be allowed complete freedom to interpret mathematical function as it best suits your pursuit of the truth.  You will only have to agree with them as to your balance today, then hereafter you will be free to define your terms yourself.”

            Well, Joe thought that was just the best thing he’d heard in years, so he rather dismally agreed with the clerk that he could only withdraw four hundred dollars, closed his account, and accompanied Mr. Stoffies across town to the unorthodox banking establishment he’d recommended.  Sure enough, one of the forms Joe signed as part of the account-opening process included the statement, “We hereby agree that the mathematical principles applied to the computation of any monies deposited in this institution, as well as any interest accrued thereon, will be solely determined by the signatory individual(s), pursuant to the declarations of such individual(s) and deferring any differences between such determinations and the popular application of mathematics to Higher Accounting, whose calculations shall not be applicable to said individual(s) so long as this institution is in valid business relationship with said individual(s).”  There followed some more confusing language in small print, which Joe understood to mean that whatever differences this had with the way the popular mathematical principles would compute his bank balance would be referred to an advocate who would protect him from such differences.  Joe happily signed the papers, deposited his money, then promptly withdrew five hundred dollars and purchased his TV in time to watch the Super Bowl.  Once again, Joe was happy.  The bank seemed happy enough.

            This went on for some time…Joe made his deposits regularly and regularly withdrew whatever he required to purchase whatever he wanted.  His lifestyle increased gradually, until one day he was in to make his weekly deposit and ran into a gentleman who was withdrawing a large sum of money.  The gentleman turned to Joe and asked him what mathematical principles he was using to regulate his account.  Joe, proud of his theories, explained that he believed that two plus two equals five and operated his account accordingly.  To his consternation, the gentleman laughed at him.

            “My, what a simple, low-returning formula!”  Then he looked at him.  “Listen, son, you need to really get your teeth into this.  Let me tell you what I do.  You do know that in conventional, uninformed mathematics division by zero is undefined?”

            Joe agreed that he had heard that but didn’t really understand it.  The gentleman smiled.  “Well, all you have to do is define it yourself…say, anything divided by zero automatically doubles…or triples…or whatever, then come in and divide your holdings by zero on a regular basis.  You’ll soon have more money than you’ll know what to do with!”

            Joe considered this and decided it was superior to his way of manipulating his money…so he filled out the proper paperwork and began regularly dividing his account balance by zero.  Suddenly, Joe was wealthy.  He purchased an executive home and a sports car.  He vacationed on the Riviera.  Life was good.

            Until the day Joe went to the bank to divide his balance again and was directed to yet another gentleman in impeccable business attire.  Joe thought nothing of the uniformed policemen standing about, until he noticed that the man who had recommended the practice of dividing by zero was in handcuffs, giving a statement to one of the policemen.  Now, Joe began to be apprehensive.

            “What’s going on?” He inquired of the businessman as he gave him his account number.

            “Oh, it’s nothing to be alarmed at.” The gentleman stated in a soothing manner. “It’s just time to settle the accounts.”

            Joe was puzzled. “Settle the accounts?  What accounts?”

            Again, the man was unruffled, “Why, the accounts that represent the sums you have spent in excess of your deposits and earnings at this institution.”  The gentleman typed a few numbers into his laptop computer.  “Ah, yes, you have a sizeable outstanding balance.”

            Joe stuttered, “Outstanding balance?  I should have millions in my account.”

            The gentleman smiled ruefully and shook his head.  “Yes, that’s what everyone has said.  I’m afraid you have been misinformed.”

            Joe was beginning to be angry. “Misinformed?  What do you mean, I’ve been misinformed?  It’s all nice and legal that I could determine the mathematical formulas myself.”

            Again, the gentleman shook his head.  “I see you still don’t understand.  I am the State Bank Examiner, and I’m afraid I must tell you that this establishment had no authority under the laws of our state to operate as a financial institution.  In fact, the papers you signed merely authorized the officials of this establishment to take out loans in your name for the monies that you computed to be in your account beyond your deposits and legitimate earnings.  Furthermore, according to the papers you signed, those loans are due in full upon demand.  I’m afraid if you cannot pay the debt, you are guilty of fraud and liable to arrest and imprisonment.”

            Joe leaned over the examiner's shoulder and read the balance he saw on the screen.  All the color drained from his face and he made a little mewling sound as his knees buckled and he fell into the arms of the policeman nearest him.  His jaw worked before he managed to get the words out of his mouth.  "How...how can you do this?  I was told...everyone said...there are signed documents...this bank doesn't follow the commonly accepted mathematical principles!'

             The Bank examiner sighed.  "Do you really believe those principles exist because some people have taken a fancy to them? Even the people who started this institution know better than that.  Mr. Stoffies is wanted in seven states for fraud and theft by deceptions.  It is a scam -- they persuade people to invest with them under the most preposterous conditions, then run up huge debts in the names of their clients and abscond with the money that had accrued in the accounts, leaving the 'bank depositors' liable for all the debts.  However, the irony is that signed paperwork contains a paragraph that states you acknowledge that you will be simply borrowing money, which you will repay when the institution is no longer in business.  This so-called 'bank' declared bankruptcy this morning; Mr. Stoffies and his cohorts are long gone and you," here he nodded at the other gentleman in handcuffs as he continued, "and your fellow bank customers are left, legally, with all the debts."

            Joe had progressed beyond shock to anger.  “But…but…that’s not fair!  He said I would be allowed to apply mathematics as I understood them!  What right have you to say I am not correct?”

            Now the bank examiner began to lose his patience.  “I am sorry that I am the one to tell you this, if you have lived all your life without anyone ever telling you before.  It would have saved you much trouble had you understood this before the accounts were due.”  He stood up and looked Joe squarely in the eye.  “The principles and axioms of common mathematics are not the result of popular preference.  Mathematics is founded upon those principles and axioms because they are true.  They were true before people figured them out.  They will be true long after you and I have left the earth.  They are true whether anyone believes them or not.  One plus one will always be two.  A plus B will always be the same as B plus A.  It is absolutely impossible to divide anything by nothing.  You chose not to accept that, to believe the lies of someone whose sole motivation was your deception, either directly or through others he had likewise deceived.  He could not have deceived any of you if you had decided to believe the truth originally told to you.  Now you owe a debt you cannot pay.”  He nodded to the policeman, who put handcuffs on Joe, reciting as he did, “You have the right to remain silent…..”

            The bank examiner watched as Joe, shocked again into complicity, was led away.  Then he sighed sadly as he sat back down and wearily repeated, "Next case."