About being 'chosen'

 The usual translation of the words of Jesus on this subject is,

"Many are called, but few are chosen."

My own thought is that it would be better read as,

All are called, but few choose."

Those of us who have heard and heeded this call should be ever grateful for it and can never be judgemental about those who haven't.

We can never fully know or comprehend the mystery of why we heard and followed and why others didn't.

All we need to do is to love God by loving everyone who comes our way and is in need of God's love, as channelled by us as best we can.

A question about being or not being perfect

As human beings,

is to try to be perfect 

to begin by acknowledging

that we are not and cannot be perfect?

About our struggles to love

Sometimes, the pipes and tubes and channels of our hearts 

can be blocked by unacknowledged, or even unrecognised, 

resentment and bitterness and pain.

Let us hope that the chimney sweep of love, 

with the brushes of compassion and understanding,

can unblock those arteries and allow us to love

where we would and should.

About being in the kingdom of God

In the kingdom of God,

there are NO second class citizens.

A poem about seeing God in the dawn and the dusk of the day

Oh God, you are my God and I love you.

I see you in the flowers of the gardens and the fields.
I feel you in the gentle breeze that brushes on my face.
I hear you in the singing and the callings of the birds.

Oh God, you are my God and I love you.

I see you in the late and the lingering light of day.
I feel you in the warmth of the afterglow of sunset.
I hear you in the darkness and the silence of the stars.

Oh God, you are my God and I love you.

About seeing God in the sky at dusk, through my bedroom window

A couple of nights ago, I walked into the bedroom and, looking through the window, the beauty in the sky took my breath away. I really felt I was looking at the handiwork of God, that God was actually in the sky.

As I lay in bed shortly afterwards, these words came into my mind.

I saw you in the light of the sky.
I felt you in the warmth of the sunset.
I heard you in the silence of the stars.

A second verse grew from this.

I see you in the flowers of the fields.
I feel you in the breeze upon my face.
I hear you in the callings of the birds.

The poem which follows this post grew from these two verses.

About uncried tears

How many people are living in the prison of uncried tears.

No matter; in the end, 
that is, at the end of our lives,
all uncried tears will be cried - and dried -
in the place and space "where every tear will be wiped away."