“Yinney” Chapter 36

sloth_blog “They tell me that all dogs were once wolves,” Yinney began, and all fell silent. “One day a wolf decided he would give up his wild selfishness and would be meek and serve. He became a dog.”

Yinney looked around at the small group gathered at his 7th Day Tree. The macaws were doing a wonderful job of spreading the word about the Fellowship. Not only were the three macaws here, but also some howler monkeys from the rubber trees! Bubba the Buddhist had sent them to listen and learn, and then return to him and share, so he could consider and compare.

Another wonderful surprise was Cappy the capybarra! He was visiting for the first time and sat patiently on the ground looking up and listening. Yinney had moved lower in the tree for the sake of Cappy, and looked forward to talking more with him after the meeting.

It had been a couple days, but so far Tornado Turtle had not come around. Probably distracted by some glittering treasure somewhere, but he still hoped he would see her soon.

“We all know the loyalty of a good dog,” Yinney continued, ” and yet they use to live as wolves! Predators! What a picture of transformation, and making a different choice, not to live as a predator, but learn companionship, love, and devotion. The wild wolves are being slowly but surely exterminated. While the devoted and faithful dog is more and more inheriting the earth. Yes, we are teaching on the Beatitudes, and the Sermon on the Mount.”

“Our Creator came in the form of a man to fulfill what we could not, and teach us that it is not the predators who will inherit the earth, but the meek. Now in these parts, in our beautiful Amazon jungle, we know of Jag the jaguar, and how we must always be watching lest we be taken unaware. And many other predators of this jungle, meat-eaters, carnivores, who live after the hungers of their flesh, and think nothing of hurting others to satisfy their own desires. But our Creator has promised they will not inherit the earth, but are fit for destruction themselves. Their own predator ways will come back on them, reaping what they have sown.”

“All are welcome to this tree and in this fellowship as long as they continue in exactly that, fellowship. What a wonderful thing it is to have a community of unity. But this wonderful thing will only happen if we stay in a proper spirit, and for this we teach three foundational truths: The Lord’s Supper, The Lord’s Prayer, and The Lord’s Sermon. The Beatitudes as found in Matthew chapter 5 is the starting point of the Lord’s Sermon. It is the starting point, but the whole sermon revolves around what the Lord spoke in verse 48, when he said: ‘But you are to be perfect, even as your Father in heaven is perfect.’ “

“Does the thought of perfection scare you? A mark so high? A standard so impossible? Yes, impossible for us, but not God. So do not be afraid, just know that God from the beginning said he was taking us to perfection, that is our promised land. This is no new thing, and we have all eternity in Christ to reach it. The ability to fellowship without eating each other is part of our training in the perfecting. The early church knew this, and the early church fathers taught and practiced it,” he concluded with a smile, and then began the discussions. Church was just getting started.

Frank now understood he would no longer be a New York City cop. The damage to his spinal cord gave him about a fifty-fifty chance of being confined to a wheelchair. No one knew if he would walk again, but therapy was beginning soon. He was now officially retired from the force, and feeling lost. “What now?” he questioned. He really hoped he would at least walk again.

He had only been conscious a couple days. His partner, Sam, promised to help him anyway he could. Sam was a great guy. Their friendship would continue.

His sons were there for him too, and Rachel and her daughter, Clara. As a matter of fact, he thought he noticed his youngest son, Tommy, and Clara having a lot of private conversations over the past two days. What was that about, he wondered? But Tommy would be leaving soon to go back to his job, working on that road in the Amazon.

More than anything, he wondered about Rachel. Their relationship had began while he was strong, healthy, and still a cop. Would she want to marry a cripple? A man most likely too damaged to even carry her across the threshold? If he had any chance with her before, which he still did not know, did he have even less chance now? Was she constantly visiting him out of sympathy, and would eventually slowly fade out of his life as soon as she was sure he was going to be okay?

All these questions and more rolled around in his mind as he lay in the hospital bed with so many hours to ponder every little fear and negative thought. The view out his window was an ugly concrete wall only an alley away, with clouds and drizzle decorating. A new life lay ahead. The details and potential of that life he did not know. It certainly still had lots of possibilities, especially if Rachel was part of it. He hoped she was, even more than he hoped he walked again, and he really wanted to walk. Fight hard he would. Both to walk, and win Rachel’s love.

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“Yinneythought” for the day.

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I came across this photo of myself the other day, and it blew my mind. It was stuck away in a bunch of other photos as so often happens. I’m 63 now, and I was around 29 at this time and doing 4 years in the Army. I’m not sure if I was in Georgia or Maryland for this picture. I think it was Maryland.

When I saw it, I couldn’t help but be struck by the similarity of the sloth picture I have been using, and the picture of myself! Figure the odds! How in the world? And something like 34 years ago?

Jesus spoke in parables that the Pharisees hated and would have refused to read. The spiritual meaning of his stories went right over the head of others, but then there were also those who loved them. The simple story of a sloth named Yinney in the Amazon jungle is much the same way. The God we love is a gardener, but many people live lives of the jungle instead of letting God do his work. Our God also is peace-loving, but many live lives of being a predator. I love the unique perspective on God and what it means to be a Christian this story offers.

I am amazed at the simplicity and spiritual depth found in a story of a sloth. I hope we’re not to busy to take the time to slow down and hear God in a simple story. If I was ever so sure of anything I have written, Yinney has stolen my heart. The beauty of slow is not appreciated in our modern times, but God says gardens are slow grow, and weeds love speed. Think about it.

Chapter One of “Yinney the Sloth who needed to Poo” starts on January 20, 2019. Simply go to archives and find January to begin your forward journey with Yinney.

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“Yinney” Chapter 33

Rachel had fallen into a routine of working her night shift at the Coffee Cafe, followed by a lonely walk to the subway and thinking about how much she missed Frank showing up, shower and bed when she got home, short conversations with Clara when she could, then dress for work but go to the hospital, where she would sit at the side of Frank’s bed praying he would suddenly wake up.

“Where are you God?” she found herself asking on the 7th day of her vigil, but then caught herself. “I’m sorry God. I know you’re here with us. I’m sorry for getting discouraged and doubting you. Please forgive me.”

Once again she began questioning her relationship. Is this what Jesus did? She felt in such a hopeless rut. The really good Christians, as she thought of them, were at church services 2-3 times a week. They were involved in various church programs. They tithed at least 10% of their gross income. They became church members, read their Bible through in a year, every year, so many things the church recommended doing to be a good Christian. Rachel had never quite lived up to all those things. Her life just didn’t fit that box. But from what she could see, Jesus didn’t fit the church box either. But what did she know? They were the experts. Pastor Simmons had a Master’s Degree in Theology. She could only be more wrong, and that made her feel even more unworthy.

How could she rise to that level? Every time she thought of it, all she saw was a prison of programs digging an even deeper rut! She loved freedom! A life flowing with meaning, purpose, and opportunity. And so as she dared to rise from her chair one more time and pray a prayer for Frank, she began, “Dear Lord, I’m so confused on what is right. I’m sorry I fall short in so many ways. I must be such a disappointment. I’m sorry such a programmed life does not appeal to me. And my prayers seem shallow. But Frank needs you, and for some reason I’m the one you put here at his side. I know the church is praying too, and Pastor Simmons stopped in on his hospital rounds. I do appreciate that, Lord. I’ll try to do better, but please let Frank come back to us. In Jesus name, Amen.” 

Having an after thought, Rachel added one more thing, “Lord, I’ve been telling Agatha, at the cafe, about you. She enjoys our conversations, but does not want to go to church. She says she don’t need all that hype. I don’t know how to convince her, Lord. I mentioned Baptism and she said I could baptize her! I don’t know how to do that! I’m not even qualified, am I? Please help me to help her, Lord. Amen.”

Once again thousands of miles away in the Amazon jungle, Yinney was in his 7th Day Tree teaching. Lu-Lu, Me-Me, and Jo-Jo had showed up to hear about his 6 day journey. And after telling them in detail about Capy, Kujo, and Bubba, he went on to ask a question, “So how do we create true ‘community’?” he asked. “How do we have true ‘communion’?”

The question hung in the air like a lead balloon. Me-Me looked at Jo-Jo. Jo-Jo looked at Lu-Lu. Lu-Lu looked at Me-Me. No one was saying anything until all three suddenly answered at the same time and Yinney couldn’t decipher a single word they said.

“Okay. Very good!” he said. “Lu-Lu, why don’t you go first.”

“Love your neighbor as yourself?” she answered as a question.

“Me-Me?” Yinney said.

“Invite people to join our fellowship!” she proudly answered.

“And Jo-Jo,”

“Pray for people,” she stated.

“All very good answers,” Yinney confirmed, and the macaws looked at each other very happy at their performance. Then he asked another question, “What does it mean to be a priest to your neighborhood?”

“It means being ordained after much study of God’s Word, so you can teach it properly,” Jo-Jo quickly answered.

“It can mean that,” Yinney agreed, “But, what if I told you, you became a priest of the Most High God the moment you entered into Christ by your own profession of faith? And God considers you a priest to wherever you are planted, i.e., your own neighborhood, workplace, wherever God has planted you. You are a priest of God’s ‘Communion’, even the Lord’s Welcoming Table, his Last Supper. As a priest you have a Communion with our Creator that only a child of God can offer to your community. The community we hope to grow, like a garden, is a community in love with God, knowing God, and coming to know him more as we fellowship like a family in Him.”

The 3 macaws stared at Yinney as if he had just invented the light bulb, or time travel. They were in awe and dumbfounded at the same time. Lu-Lu finally began slowly asking, “Could you say that again so I could write it down? I’m not sure I heard you right.” All three macaws were nodding their heads in agreement.

“But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation. A people for God’s own possession…” (I Peter 2:9)

“…you also, as living stones, are being built up as a spiritual house for a holy priesthood…” (I Peter 2:5)

“And he has made us be a Kingdom of priest…” (Rev. 1:6)

Yinney ended his quoting. Then Lu-Lu said, “I guess I did hear that right. Could you repeat those three verse locations?”

Yinney smiled.

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The continuing story of “Yinney the Sloth who needed to Poo” is property of Don Allen and Fellowship of the White Path.

 

 

“Yinneythought” for the day.

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When I am weak, then am I strong. 

Sometimes the world needs wine from us when all we have to give is water.

I see miracles every day as God somehow turns my water, to wine, and meets needs I could never meet.

So never let the devil tell you that your water, or your two fishes and a little bread is not good enough.

We’re not the winemaker, God is.

“Yinney” Chapter 32

28e223c9-f4f7-4ee2-9d62-2504d88782fe_rw_1920 At one a.m. Clara finally surrendered to going to bed with the stipulation Rachel wake her if anything important happened. Clara had an early rise for work, whereas her mother worked the evening and night shift. So after an exchange of hugs and words of concern for Frank, Rachel was now alone with the TV and her fearful thoughts.

Normally she would be in bed now too. But it would be useless tonight, she would only toss and turn. So she watched the TV intently, even as it repeated itself over and over. She saw no sign of Frank. The hours slowly ticked by, until finally the reporter confirmed Central park was now under police control. The stone building had been gassed, the gangs broken up and arrested, and yes there were fatalities. No names were given yet, until families could be notified.

Rachel was exhausted. She wanted to go to bed, but her worry was growing even more. Why hadn’t Frank called by now to confirm he was alright? He would have to know she would be worried. The fact he had not called yet, was reason for even more concern. But slowly without realizing, she drifted off to sleep on the couch, with her phone nearby.

Six a.m., and she only been asleep for an hour or so when her cell phone began ringing. At first it sounded as if in a heavy fog, and very far away, but slowly growing louder until she finally realized she had fallen asleep and needed to get the phone! But her brain did not want to work and her body did not function. Fumbling to hit the buttons she hastily answered, “Hello…Frank? You okay?”

The voice that answered was not Frank. “Mam,” he began, “this is Frank’s partner, Sam. He told me to call you if anything ever happened. Franks in the hospital.”

As Rachel remained silent, Sam could hear her breathing and decided best to just lay it out there. So he kept on talking, “He’s alive… but it’s not good. He took a bad fall. His back has some serious damage. He’s been unconscious, swelling on the brain. Their prepping him for surgery right now. I’m not leaving till he comes out of surgery. But he would want you to know. Do you have any questions? Do you need a ride to the hospital or anything?”

“No…” she answered. “I can get there. Thank you, Officer Sam.”

“You’re welcome, Mam.”

Rachel disconnected the call, slowly slid off the side of the couch onto the floor, buried her face into her hands and began weeping. She was exhausted, emotionally spent, but as soon as she could pull herself together she would tell Clara the bad news, and then she would be on her way to the hospital.

Frank was unaware of anything going on. He felt no pain, did not know his body lay on the bank of a small stream for a couple hours before he was found, was unaware of his ride in an ambulance to the hospital, and did not know he was being rushed into surgery at this very time. The extent of his injuries were not yet known, but the swelling of his brain had to be treated immediately, and there was spinal cord damage. One doctor estimated his odds of living about fifty-fifty, and his odds of walking again not that good.

Frank was mostly unaware of anything. He was sleeping in darkness and feeling nothing, not even the passing of time, except when there was a flash of light. At random times there would be a flash of something, like light, and a picture! Light flashed, he saw a tree over hanging a lagoon! In his unconscious and injured state he did not try to ponder what he saw, it was as a dream, it just was. Light flashed and he saw a tree, then he saw a lagoon, and it was as if in a jungle.

Time passed by and he was unaware of the passing before light flashed again, and there was the tree again, and something else, a sloth?

Frank was still in surgery when Rachel arrived at the hospital and quickly found Officer Sam. Frank had spoke of him as a fine man, but she and he had never met. He knew she had to be Rachel the moment he saw her enter the waiting room.

Walking over to her, he softly asked, “Rachel?”

“Yes, I’m Rachel. Any word?”

“No. Not yet. He’s still in there. His sons have also been notified and they are on their way. All but one. He’s got to book a plane. Can I get you a coffee or anything?”

“Yes, coffee would be good, and if you can tell me anything at all, about what happened to him?”

“Sure, lets get that coffee first, and find a seat,” Sam went to a coffee machine, put a card in, punched some buttons and waited on the coffee while Rachel spotted a place to sit. Soon he was joining her with two cups of hot coffee, cream and sugar.

“Well,” he began, “here’s all we know. Frank was found unconscious on the ground and almost in a stream of water. It appears he had gone over the side wall of a stone bridge. He must have been in a tussle with somebody. He fell in a bad way. Another officer was found on the bridge, his neck broke. We don’t know if the two are related or not. Frank and I got separated in the chaos. I didn’t see a thing, I’m afraid. And I feel terrible I wasn’t there to help him.”

Sam went silent at that point and Rachel gave him an understanding look as she reached to touch his hand. “Frank always spoke very highly of you. Said you were a good man and he was lucky to have you as his partner. Whatever happened out there, I’m sure he doesn’t blame you.”

Rachel saw tears in Sam’s eyes as he thanked her for her kind words.

Two more hours went by before Frank was wheeled out of surgery and into a special room. Sam helped identify Rachel as someone very close and should be allowed to be at his side when he awoke.

“If he awakes,” a doctor corrected. “His injuries are very serious. we’re hoping he does’t slide into a deep coma, and if he avoids that, then we don’t know if he’ll ever walk again. I’m sorry. I wish I had better news, but we just don’t know. Only God knows at this point.”

Rachel nodded her head that she understood, thanked the doctor for all his efforts, and settled in by Franks bed to wait. There lay the man she was afraid to love. Now it was likely his police days were over. How would Frank deal with such a change in his life? Was she meant to help him through such a time as this? All she knew was she was here for him now.

As morning was birthing thousands of miles south in the Amazon jungle, Yinney was singing his morning song…

Rising morning sun, I greet you. Singing morning birds, I thank you. Gentle cooling breeze, I welcome you. Great and mighty tree, I hang from you.

Predators may lurk jungle below, but our ways are higher in the trees. Our ways are touched with cooling breeze. Our ways invisible in the leaves. Our ways are blessed in peaceful flow. Our ways are blessed with S-O-U-L.

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“Yinney” Chapter 31

Central_Park_night “Sometimes something has to happen, in order for something else to happen,” someone once said.

“This is Chanel 10 News. I’m Tracey Copper reporting live from just outside Central Park where a major gang war suddenly broke out about thirty minutes ago!”

Clara and Rachel had not moved from the couch as they watched the horrible event unfolding. It had only been a few days since Rachel had been a witness to a murder, a literal execution, performed high in the night sky for greater impact; and now this? What was the world coming to?

The quivers in her body that had faded away during her rushed hike from subway to home, had now returned. Conflicting emotions were at war within her. Frank was a good man, and she loved him very much, but now she resisted that love. How could she live like this? Even now, they were only dating but it was still tearing her up inside, knowing the danger he was in.

Had she not seen it with her own eyes, had she not seen the man begging for his life, and yet the shadow with the gun executed him as if it meant nothing! Life meant nothing! A human being meant nothing! His body falling from the high-rise, the sound of it hitting concrete below, and the shadows walked away as if it were nothing. What kind of evil is that? What darkness fills the minds of such people? And Frank faced that darkness every night, but could she? She didn’t think so, and the quivers running through her body even now were confirming that very thing. “Detach, Rachel!” her mind demanded. “Detach while you still can!” But the heart hangs on.

The reporter continued, “It appears the police are about to go in! Squad cars, helicopters, and spot lights are flashing everywhere! As far as we know, there have been two injured civilians so far, and no fatalities, but we don’t know who may be trapped in there and unable to get out. The police say they will enter to save those people and stop this gang war! They intend to send a strong message that this kind of lawlessness will not be allowed in New York City! You threaten our people, we’re going to hit you hard was a quote from the Chief of Police earlier. I believe I see them moving now! Yes! They’re going in!”

Adrenalin pumped through Frank’s body like a race horse straining at a gate. For half an hour now, gunshots, screaming, fighting, could be heard going on in the park. With all the natural cover it offered, it was more like a jungle war zone than a gang fight, or a mixture of both, but the natural conditions were prolonging the battle beyond a normal gang fight. No one had seen anything like this before.

The men were nervous but anxious to get in there. This had to be stopped before countless lives were lost. No one knew how many trapped civilians might still be in there. When the order was given, Frank leveled his gun and two-thirds of the officers began entering, as the other third was ordered to hold tight and protect the streets.

Frank’s partner, Sam, had found him and they now entered the park together. Frank and Sam had been together for a while and knew how each other thought. The sound of gunfire and angry voices made it easy to locate the main battle ground, but it had also scattered. At any moment an assailant could fire upon you from the cover of darkness, and it was almost impossible to prepare for.

In no time at all they found themselves pinned down and shooting at shadows. Bullets ricochet off trees and rocks around them. A report came across the radio saying the gang was holding captives in a stone building, and threatening to execute them all if the police interfered! At that same moment, Sam decided to make a rushed move to another tree. “Cover me!” he yelled as he suddenly shot forward into the dimly lit landscape.

Frank did the best he could, but that was the last he saw of Sam. They were officially separated. Frank was pinned down and unable to follow his partner. Out of the darkness a streak of silver flashed, a glint of steel caught his eye! A crazy guy with a samurai sword was attacking him! But his training instantly kicked in, and a sword is no match for a gun. The man fell to the ground and there was no time to even check his condition as automatic weapons still filled the air with streams of bullets.

Frank strained his eyes still trying to spot his partner. A special task force of officers were sent in with a mission of getting to that stone building, fill it with tear gas, and save as many civilians as possible. But everyone knew there was going to be loss of life. Frank began moving forward.

He was still searching for Sam when he spotted an officer in a life and death struggle with a very large man on a bridge! Was that Sam? He couldn’t tell, but it didn’t matter. This officer needed help, and between the two of them they should be able to overpower the guy and get him in cuffs. Frank ran the short distance onto the bridge, holstering his weapon as he went, and drawing his club. “Knock this guy out from behind,” he told himself. But just as he was almost there, the big guy snapped the officer’s neck and spun around catching Frank completely flatfooted! He easily blocked the club and Frank was instantly in trouble. How did this guy move so fast? He obviously had special training, and now he was alone against this giant, as the other officer lay on the ground not moving.

The man got hold of him before he had a chance to stop, dodge, or even redraw his weapon. His grip was like a vice! The battle was on, and he was straining every muscle trying to get some advantage, or escape, to survive, against this demonic monster he now grappled with. This had not been the plan. How had it gone this way?

Rachel knew something wasn’t right. She started crying and Clara immediately moved closer, asking what was wrong?

“I’m just worried about Frank. I can’t help it. I’ll be alright as soon as this is over and I know he’s safe.”

Frank felt his body beginning to weaken. His breath running short, oxygen deprivation. Lactic acid setting in from the pace of the fight and the strain. He was beginning to feel a sense of desperation. The big man suddenly spun him around like a rag doll. His back hit the short wall and the big guy was still on him. Desperation took over. He only had one chance. This guy was going to break his neck, gouge his eyes, or any number of ways he knew how to kill someone.

Frank strengthened his grip on the big guy and with a sudden superhuman effort, over the wall they tumbled, completely out of control. Holding his breath and bracing for impact, the fall seemed to take forever, but when it came, it was sudden and hard! Frank landed on the bottom. He couldn’t breathe. He felt the big guy getting up. But darkness was swallowing him and he could do nothing about it. Was he dying? He was gone. He knew nothing, nothing but blackness.

“Sometimes something has to happen, in order for something else to happen,” someone once said.

28e223c9-f4f7-4ee2-9d62-2504d88782fe_rw_1920 This is the continuing story of “Yinney the Sloth who needed to Poo”, and property of Don Allen / Fellowship of the White Path.

 

“Yinney” Chapter 30

New-York-City-night2 Rachel rushed home as quickly as she could. She couldn’t even get the door closed before Clara was shouting from the other room, “Mom! Did you hear what’s going on?”

Rachel could hear it blaring on the TV, and Clara was glued to the screen. “Do you think Frank is there?”

“Yes, I’m pretty sure he is. He rushed off to something right after he dropped me off.”

Rachel joined her daughter on the sofa watching the unfolding events as best the news could bring it. While she was watching safely in her warm apartment, sitting upon a soft couch, someone she loved was on the front lines of the danger. The news reporter was reminding everyone of recent events indicating a new gang was trying to muscle into someone else’s territory. The police had tried to keep a lid on this, but reports were leaking out anyway, including the murder Rachel had witnessed. It was likely connected to the new gang.

The execution had been staged for many to see. Someone even caught it on video. The executed man was high up on the food chain of the current gang. They were sending a message. Now with war breaking out in the park, the battle was escalating, and there would be no keeping a lid on it. A gang war was underway in NYC!

This had been common knowledge by the police for a while. They all knew what to expect as they prepared to enter the park. There would be guns, knives, chains, clubs, fully automatic weapons, even motorcycles to contend with. Most likely it was an arranged fight. Both gangs showed up for an all-out war!

“Mom should we pray for Frank?” Clara asked.

Of course, dear. Yes, that is a very good idea, and all the people there, both good and bad.”

Rachel and Clara were members of a large Church just a few blocks away. They started attending Church back when she was still married to her Ex, who abused her one too many times. But neither her or her daughter were deep into the word. A shallow Christianity had been enough, and the big Church specialized in that, even though neither of them realized just how shallow their faith really was.

It wasn’t their fault, they would have said. The struggle to survive, the work to provide, it all took so much time, little was left for serious prayer and study, or reaching out to others. But that was normal, right? At least it was normal where they attended, and that was all they knew. So Rachel began praying, and as she did, something tugged at her heart, because she realized her prayer felt as shallow as the kiss she gave Frank less than an hour ago. Something awakened in her soul, but she did not know what, and there wasn’t time to analyze it right now.

Clara added a few words to her mother’s prayer and then both returned to wide-eyed fixation on the TV screen.

Yinney, however, knew nothing of what was transpiring in New York City as he enjoyed his 7th Day Tree in the Amazon jungle, but he was waxing poetic, a mood that hit him from time to time, and was trying to get the words right, as every word-smithy knows, it’s not an easy task, but a labor of love, nonetheless. This poem would officially begin his book: “The Beauty of Slow”.

>Yinney’s Poem: “The Question”<

My greatest treasure, my soul.

What powers this body? My soul.

What holds eternity? My soul.

My soul lives in spirit.

What would profit me if I lost my soul?

My greatest treasure, my soul!!!

My greatest priority…my soul.

God’s Word my food.

God’s Spirit my water.

God’s Presence the air I breathe.

Jesus, shelter for my soul.

Jesus, completion of my soul.

Bride of the Lamb, I am.

Everyday I ask such an important question, 

“What does my soul need this day?”

The flesh screams like a squeaky wheel, never leaving doubt of what it feels.

But what of my soul?

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“Yinney” Chapter 29

BLOG-16-05-2017-2 The desires of the flesh are a hungry thing indeed, unless tamed by the spirit. Dorothy wrestled with herself as to what to do? Did she really want to? There would be no going back.

She had been hunting Jack for a while now. Jack had a wife and child. He would have as much to lose as her, if they were caught. She knew he was ready, even if he didn’t admit it to himself. If she offered he would say yes. The hunt had been successful and she had been in control the whole time, slowly leading him down her lonely path.

Dorothy was proud of her figure now. As she worked hard at the spa and the pounds rolled off and muscles tightened up, more guys came around, but Jack had been her target all along.

Even her husband, Jerry, had complimented her, but nothing seemed to get through that workaholic mindset of his. Her home continued being a lonely and passionless palace. She loved her two children, but she had a big empty place they could not fill, and maybe Jack could. So as she threw her stuff in the car and headed towards the spa she knew what was in her mind to do. She craved romance, and Jack was offering.

Many times predator people don’t even know who’s hunting who? Jack would have said he was the hunter and Dorothy the prey. She couldn’t resist his macho charm. But one thing is certain when uncontrolled desire is at the driver’s wheel, no one is thinking clearly, and in the pursuit of what they want, neither may like the total of what they get.

Frank headed out for another night of patrolling his New York City beat, but first his usual stop at the coffee shop to get Rachel. She had been really shaken by the high rise execution she witnessed that night, but between Frank and her daughter, they made sure she had all the support she needed.

Rachel was falling in love with Frank, but he had been in love with her all along. However, that night of the execution had put a fear in her she did not know if she could get past? Her only problem with Frank had become his job! She didn’t know if she could live with knowing every time her husband went to work, he would be facing animals in the night, and he might not come back! This had been eating at her ever since that night, but she could not bring herself to tell him. She was praying hard she would get over it, but so far that fear was holding her kisses at bay. As he let her off at the subway entry, her quick good-bye kiss remained purposely shallow, even though she loved him so much. She didn’t know what she was going to do?

She paused at the steps of the subway and watched his squad car slowly driving away. A cold wind whipped at her neck and face as she stood there watching. Before he was even out of sight she saw his lights come on, heard the siren wail, the car made a sharp turn and he was hitting the gas. Something was happening! And he was on his way. What was he on his way to face this time? He was a hero protecting people like her from the predators in the night. She loved that about him, but hated it too. She said a prayer under her breath and descended into the concrete opening.

Frank hadn’t picked up his partner yet at the precinct, but this was an all-points emergency call. A large gang-fight had just broken out in the midst of Central Park. Innocent people were caught in the crossfire. Other officers would be converging on the park and his partner would catch a ride. He was not far from the site, and one of the first to arrive.  Another squad car was already broadside to the park and officers outside the car, using it as a shield and guns pulled.

Frank ran the nose of his car close to their trunk and jumped out to join them. A lady jogger came running out of the dingy lit streets screaming for help. Her leg was bleeding as she struggled to run. Frank managed to leap out and grab her, pulling her behind the car.

“What is your name?” he asked as he assessed her wound. She was so panicked she couldn’t do anything but cry. Two more squad cars came racing in. Soon they would have enough to enter the park, but Frank needed to help this woman. An ambulance would be arriving anytime, but until then, he needed to keep pressure on her leg.

Two more citizens came running out. Neither of them hurt. One was able to give information as to where the fight broke out. Two helicopters began lighting up the area. Riot gear and shields were quickly being handed out. An ambulance arrived and two officers assisted the lady to it. Frank would soon be entering the woods of Central Park.

Rachel’s phone lit up with an alert, warning everyone to stay away from the Park. News stations were already at the scene as close as they could get, broadcasting as much as they could. A shaking began in her body as she rode the subway. This was not the normal shaking, but a fear of knowing Frank was there, and what if?

Thousands of miles away in the Amazon Rain Forest, Yinney was enjoying being home in his 7th Day Tree after his six day voyage through the neighborhood. He fully expected Lu-Lu, or Me-Me, or Jo-Jo, or all three to stop in at any time and he would tell them of his encounters with Capy the capybarra, Kujo the spider monkey, and Bubba the Buddhist howler monkey. He was looking so forward to the fellowship.

High in his tree he heard Jag crying somewhere distant in the jungle. The Jaguar was hungry again, and letting everyone know. How had such a good God designed such a horrible world, he asked himself. Then just as quickly reminded himself, this was not God’s design, this was man’s. Man blamed it on the woman. The woman blamed it on the snake. But God held Adam accountable. He had failed to keep and tend the perfect garden.

In the end, Dorothy would probably blame Jerry. Jerry would say he was just trying to provide what his family deserved. Jack would likely try to blame Dorothy, but that boat really wouldn’t float. The gangsters would likely blame their horrible childhoods, and maybe rightly so, as their parents blamed their horrible childhoods. But who did it first? Yinney decided Adam gets the original blame, but blaming wouldn’t solve anything as the world turns on planet earth. Only the love of God can change a predator’s heart.

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“Yinney” – Update.

Sloth-Hanging-Out_300x300 I must say Yinney has stolen my heart. Little did I know when I started writing “Yinney the Sloth who needed to Poo”, that I would so enjoy this character and the events that would unfold. This story continues to surprise me on where it is going. Round and round we go, where it lands nobody knows, but this slow-moving sloth is very wise.

A few characters in the story so far, Lu-Lu the macaw, Capy the capybara, Jag the jaguar, Kujo the spider monkey, and Bubba the Buddhist! And that’s just animal characters. Who is the mystery man in the vision who will show up at Yinney’s 7th Day Tree? And what will come of Frank the NYC Cop and his romance with Rachel? Or Jerry and Dorothy? It all has something to say.

Do we live in a world of predator cities? Are the materialistic more happy? Is it possible to live a life of soul? Are we predator or lover in the way we live? The vision said bad things are coming, and a mystery man. I can’t stop writing this story.

It seems my blog has turned into a fictional story with a nonfiction punch. Why not? Go with the flow, right? If it pleases God, it pleases me. I hope you’re enjoying it. I have to believe somebody is, even if only me. If you haven’t given Yinney a chance, it all starts at chapter one, just a little scrolling away!

“Yinney” – Chapter 25

 

“Are you a spiritual teacher?” Bubba suddenly asked.

“I hear you are, too,” Yinney answered.

Bubba sat back on the limb and his demeanor became one of great interest. “Have you come to ask questions about Buddhism?”

“I have come seeking a table of fellowship,” Yinney answered. “I would like to have conversations concerning Buddhism and Christianity ‘IF’ …we can do so in an atmosphere of ‘fellowship’. In my faith ‘fellowship’ determines everything. If we can talk and share, while maintaining an atmosphere of peace and love, a true desire of knowing each other, and respect, then our conversations could bear great fruit. But if we cannot do so in such respect, if fellowship is not possible and it becomes a battle of pride, then I will take my leave, for I do not seek such things. I offer mutual respect and conversation about our favorite subjects, and to seek understanding.”

“Bubba was silent for a while, obviously in deep thought about this sloth, before asking, “And what is your faith?”

“I am a follower of Jesus the Christ and the Hebrew scriptures,” he answered.

By this time several monkeys were hanging around. The verbal drama playing out before them was the most interesting thing going on.

“I have also studied Hebrew scriptures,” Bubba said, “and we believe the Prophet Jesus was a great teacher. He is highly respected by one and all. But does not your scriptures ask, what fellowship can light have with darkness?

“Indeed it does,” Yinney confirmed, “and if we descend into darkness I will take my leave, as I have said, but ‘fellowship and mutual respect’ is not darkness, it is light. It is sought by my faith. Some religious people push a temple, not a table. They constantly press you to come to their Church building, but I say we have Church right here. I say every action we take should be a form of Church.”

“Hhmmm,” Bubba said as he rubbed his chin. “You are different. Perhaps we could test this thing you say. I too, have no desire for battle. I am peace loving even as the Buddha taught. My ways are simple, and I do enjoy good conversation about eternal things. Perhaps we should do this?”

“We already are,” Yinney revealed with a smile. Bubba’s eyes lit up, and slowly it began, that deep laughter rolling upward out of his soul! And then all the other monkeys began leaping about and cheering! Something new, something of great interest had come to their grove of rubber trees! This would provide much entertainment for one and all, the “Conversations of Bubba and Yinney”! There would be much to think about. Boredom was broken this day, as something new had come!

“So…how does this work?” Bubba asked. “Can this nice fat limb be our table?”

“It most certainly can,” Yinney answered.

“It is done then. We shall have spiritual conversation in an atmosphere of mutual respect! Are you thirsty, my very slow friend?”

“Yes, a drink would be nice,” Yinney answered.

Bubba motioned to another monkey, asked if he would be so kind to bring some drinks, the monkey hurried off and soon returned with a pitcher of juice, two cups, and some green leaves. He set them on the limb between them, and then leaped away to hang by his tail and listen.

“Oh this is very nice. Thank you,” Yinney said. “I have been on a six day journey seeking community in the neighborhood. I only recently chose my 7th Day Tree and became a part of this area.”

“I am aware of your need to be at the same tree every seven days,” Bubba said. “It sure presents a great danger for your kind.”

“Yes, it does. Our greatest danger. But also a great honor to bless the tree in such a way.”

Bubba watched the sloth slowly reaching for the cup of juice. He wondered how many drinks he could take before Yinney even took one? So far he was up to three, but who was counting?

“So how much time do you have before you must leave?”

The cup had finally reached the sloth’s lips. Yinney was parched and the juice was so good as he savored it. And he did savor it.

Bubba patiently waited, somewhat amused and amazed. The other Howler monkeys whispered in each other’s ears, and one began timing the sloth on his watch! The crowd around Bubba’s rubber tree had grown tremendously as word spread through the trees of the jungle like wild fire.

“Ahhhh,” Yinney finally said, “That juice is so good! I have the remainder of this day I can spend with you. Tomorrow morning I must leave, but if we have good fellowship, I will return as God allows. And you must visit me, too. My 7th Day Tree stands at this end of the lagoon.”

“very good,” Bubba said. “Everyone knows the lagoon you speak of, much like this grove of rubber trees is known. How did you learn of us?”

“Do you know a spider monkey named, Kujo?”

“Haaaa!” Bubba laughed! “I certainly do! So he has not been swallowed by an anaconda yet? Haaa! I love it when he tells me I’m just an accident. He is such a sad monkey. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him laugh.”

“That is sad,” Yinney agreed, “not to laugh.”

And so it was that Yinney became known in a grove of rubber trees as he sought fellowship with Bubba and whoever so desired. Communion was the heart of our Lord. He always had kind words for the lost and the hurting. He sat at tables with sinners and shared food, but he spoke very hard to the religious! And when he spoke in their big temples, his words so infuriated them, they would run him out!

This was the beginning of a friendship of respect between Bubba and Yinney, and many deep conversations.

“So what does your holy Word say about ‘karma’?” Bubba asked.

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