The Two Cups - Final Chapter
© KSW 31/3/99
In the places I was wet, the stickiness had run off. I put my hand to my mouth and tasted the medicinal taste of the familiar red liquid. I realised I could escape and I dragged myself to another door. Getting up, as though my legs had gained sudden strength, I walked quickly through the building and out into another alley. This led to other countless alleys. I was lost, confused but still alive. I came across a gang of men in one alley who were eating. They offered me some, which I saw was part of a human body, a clean human body! Beyond them I saw the street or so I thought. I screamed and charged through. One of the men lunged at me half-heartedly so I easily dodged him and tumbled into the street. The flames were glowing to my left. People walked about the street, however the roadway itself was totally clear. The traffic flowed no more however neither did the people walk on the roadway.
I drank from another cup of the dark syrup, but this caused so much pain, I crumpled into a heap on the ground. My body wracked with the pain. My legs felt as though the flesh was dropping off them. One passerby hooked the toe of his shoe in the small of my back and heaved me into the gutter to lie there with the rest of the frail and the dead. A lion paused and gnawed my leg. I couldn’t feel the pain but my fingers found a stick which I used to beat the lion until it walked to the next body.
After what seemed an eon I crawled onto the pavement because I knew I needed to get away, anywhere but here. I moved into the roadway. This wide empty space was where I at least could move along calmly without getting jostled. Directly ahead was a building I recognised . I fixed my eyes on it and walked steadily towards it.
Just outside it, I was handed another cup of syrup which I drank almost automatically but I did not expect its consequences. The sweet taste was comforting but I doubled up in severe pain once again and I fainted.
I came to and found myself back in the gutter. A large vehicle stood stationary a few metres away and a terrible growling noise was emanating from it. The back of it was open and it looked as though it was on fire. What I saw horrified me. Two men were picking up the bodies out of the gutter and throwing them into the back of the vehicle. These men were street cleaners and the fire was a furnace. There were just four bodies between them and me. I attempted to move however my legs were trapped. Someone lay on top of me. They took away the body lying on top of my legs and I lifted my head and rolled onto the pavement. I continued to roll across the pavement and into the building ahead bursting through the door.
I was back in the familiar room with the two cups in the centre, but this time two people were standing beside the cups. The one next to the black cup beckoned me to him. He shouted promises that I would be well and wealthy once I was rid of this sickness. He told me it was only an initiation sickness and that if I was to become better, I would need to drink the syrup every hour for just the next few days then all would be well. The black cup looked enormous, as though it had grown.
The other person held a ladle of the clear liquid and simply called my name. I rolled towards the cups. I wanted both but they would not let me and made me choose. In my fuzz I knew the syrup was the cause of my sickness, of the cramps and blindness and disability and I thought of the street cleaners just outside. I knew I had had too much of the syrup. I reeked of it. I rolled towards the other cup, took the offered ladle and drank its contents as though refreshing water. Strength returned to my limbs. I stood up, reached over the rim of the cup, but in my haste, I fell into the cup. After the initial panic, I stood and saw that the stickiness had gone. There was no pain and I was fit and whole again.
I climbed out of the cup and ran around the room in delight. The two people had already left the room. I stepped outside and stopped. I saw the same street but the people were different. They called me by name. They jostled me and beckoned me to join them. The roadway shone like pure gold. The buildings sparkled like diamonds in the sun. The harsh traffic noise was replaced by a gentle softer noise emanating from all areas. It was singing. The people were singing. All the wild animals had disappeared, but there were different creatures about, some with many eyes. I looked about but I could not see any cups of either syrup or the strawberry drink, but I noticed that a few were carrying the black cups about trying to offer them to any willing takers. I turned and looked back the way I had come. The two cups had grown out of the building. They were gigantic and now were labelled. The glass cup was the larger by far. It looked as though it would topple its contents onto the street. The label read LIFE. The black cup read SIN.
Suddenly the glass cup did topple. Its contents spilt into the black cup however. The earth shook and the darkness of the black cup became lighter. I watched it as the clear liquid poured into the cup, watched the syrup disappear and saw the cup become transparent and like glass. The label fell off it and then it cracked. The crack became larger and the liquid spilt down in to the street. It flowed like a tremendous river down the golden roadway. The cup of sin broke into pieces which flowed along with the torrent. Those carrying the syrup were overwhelmed by others, their cargo discharged into the roadway and then allowed to join in with the others who were now dancing, singing, celebrating. I walked, danced and jumped along with the crowd following the torrent into the noonday sun.
The Two Cups - Chapter Three
© KSW 31/3/99
I felt sick once again. My stomach was now hurting badly. Pain travelled through my intestines. My body felt as though it was on fire, but my head seemed to me as though it floated two metres above my body.
This side of the street was as bad as the other. In a window was a cup of the black syrup and below it was one containing the red liquid. I seemed to see them together although no one touched the clear drink but chose the black liquid all the time. It seemed everyone was hooked on it. Through the window people were sitting around drinking and watching a show. The show was crude, where the human body was flaunted in various ways. I wanted a drink but did not want to go in. As I stood there, I was jostled by many as they passed by, some wandering openly why I was not moving. I made a quick decision, grasped a dead animal out of the gutter and flung its body through the window so I could grab the two cups and walk off without having to go in and ask anyone about them. I drank them both greedily, the strawberry after the syrup. Suddenly I was awake. I felt no pain anywhere. I could see clearly. This made me stop in my tracks and observe the street more closely. The people were bizarre and deformed and they wore rags as well as being covered in the syrup and dust. The animals looked vicious. Even the small ones seemed menacing. The vehicles were an endless streak of noise and images as they sped by. The sky was becoming darker.
I reached a doorway and pushed in off the street away from the noise and the images. In the room where I found myself, there were a few tables and chairs but all were unoccupied. Set on the tables were more cups of the syrup. I licked my lips, took two and drank again. Some of the liquid slipped down my chin and onto my clothes. The pain was severe this time and the cramps were almost unbearable. My head became lightheaded again. A group of men came in from another room. They beckoned to me to join them and offered me more to drink. I noticed through the increasing bleariness a solitary clear cup high on a shelf, but I chose the syrup and drank with my new found companions. I could not feel, I could not think, I could not see much, but I drank and drank. The liquid covered my hands and face, my body and arms and was totally sticky which was I found made it difficult to move. The floor was sticky. In fact everything was sticky. Pain shot through my body into legs, arms, head and neck.
Eventually I managed to leave the room and hobbled back into the street, but was dragged into another doorway. Here, people were naked and wrapped around each other, covered in the syrup. I was astounded but was harried into joining in. Through my weakness I offered little resistance and started enjoying myself.
When the party was over, I found myself dragged back out into the street. I was hallucinating now. My mind a whirr of bizarre images. Squinting my eyes I saw in front of me a normal human girl with no deformities and whose clothes were clean that meant they had none of the sticky syrup or the dust of the street on them. She was holding a bag and walked into a building. Another stepped out of a vehicle, stopped at the curbside. She looked at me and smiled but walked into the building as well. The building was large and very old. I followed them through the door and saw there were a group of these people emptying the contents of their bags into clear cups. They offered me some, but I declined. The taste of the strawberry drink made me sick. I saw a cup of the syrup on the floor and took that instead. Those in the room started to tell me something. I think they were trying to stop me from drinking it, but I was too quick. The syrup touched my lips and I immediately hit the floor, my head spinning. That was strong almost pure.
One of the girls walked out into the street, to fetch another bag from the vehicle, but as she turned back to the door, she was grabbed by some men and was dragged down an alley. I jumped up and followed them. One held a cup of syrup and forced her to drink it. They poured the bag of clear liquid onto the ground. The girl immediately wanted more of the syrup and started laughing. Soon she was covered in the sticky syrup and the men were laughing around her. They walked back into the street, past me, and to the stopped vehicle, where they started to vandalise it and destroy its contents and its ability to move again.
I looked at my feet. The spilt clear liquid ran into the gutter from the alley. The alley floor seemed clean. Perhaps my eyes were behaving peculiar. A man walking by stood on the liquid trail and slipped as though on ice. A body in the gutter around which the liquid pooled began to move. The man revived, got up and walked away. I could not comprehend it. How could this be? The liquid flowed further out into the road and the traffic began at first to quiver and then as the vehicles ran over the liquid there was a sideways slip with one of them and they began to career over the roadway, crashing into each other, crumpling up, and some careened over the pavement into people and into buildings. I dodged back into the alley. A vehicle crashed straight into the mouth of the alley and burst into flames. This caused a chain reaction with those on the road behind it. The flames became intense like a furnace. I could hear people screaming as they disappeared into the flames and I soon realised why. The sticky residues of the syrup along the walls of the buildings and the alley flared into an intense flame. In my daze, I knew I had to escape, but I sat on the ground doubled up in pain. I saw that the spilt liquid was still there under the flames, neither evaporating nor burning. My legs would not move, so I dragged myself up the alley using my hands which were sticky like glue. I found a doorway and slipped into it just before the flames passed over my head. The heat was now intense and I was very thirsty. To my relief there were more cups of syrup stacked in a corner. There were people in the room but they were looking out of the window at the front and laughing at the carnage in the street. I lay on the floor too weak to move, too numb to care any longer. I had a drink and I was happy. I heard laughter again and realised it was me.
The flames were now in the room. I know. I could hear them but I could not move. A shelf on the wall above split and fell down. There were three bags on the shelf which burst as they hit the floor. I was covered in a liquid. I opened my eyes to see the flames and saw that I was soaked.
I felt sick once again. My stomach was now hurting badly. Pain travelled through my intestines. My body felt as though it was on fire, but my head seemed to me as though it floated two metres above my body.
This side of the street was as bad as the other. In a window was a cup of the black syrup and below it was one containing the red liquid. I seemed to see them together although no one touched the clear drink but chose the black liquid all the time. It seemed everyone was hooked on it. Through the window people were sitting around drinking and watching a show. The show was crude, where the human body was flaunted in various ways. I wanted a drink but did not want to go in. As I stood there, I was jostled by many as they passed by, some wandering openly why I was not moving. I made a quick decision, grasped a dead animal out of the gutter and flung its body through the window so I could grab the two cups and walk off without having to go in and ask anyone about them. I drank them both greedily, the strawberry after the syrup. Suddenly I was awake. I felt no pain anywhere. I could see clearly. This made me stop in my tracks and observe the street more closely. The people were bizarre and deformed and they wore rags as well as being covered in the syrup and dust. The animals looked vicious. Even the small ones seemed menacing. The vehicles were an endless streak of noise and images as they sped by. The sky was becoming darker.
I reached a doorway and pushed in off the street away from the noise and the images. In the room where I found myself, there were a few tables and chairs but all were unoccupied. Set on the tables were more cups of the syrup. I licked my lips, took two and drank again. Some of the liquid slipped down my chin and onto my clothes. The pain was severe this time and the cramps were almost unbearable. My head became lightheaded again. A group of men came in from another room. They beckoned to me to join them and offered me more to drink. I noticed through the increasing bleariness a solitary clear cup high on a shelf, but I chose the syrup and drank with my new found companions. I could not feel, I could not think, I could not see much, but I drank and drank. The liquid covered my hands and face, my body and arms and was totally sticky which was I found made it difficult to move. The floor was sticky. In fact everything was sticky. Pain shot through my body into legs, arms, head and neck.
Eventually I managed to leave the room and hobbled back into the street, but was dragged into another doorway. Here, people were naked and wrapped around each other, covered in the syrup. I was astounded but was harried into joining in. Through my weakness I offered little resistance and started enjoying myself.
When the party was over, I found myself dragged back out into the street. I was hallucinating now. My mind a whirr of bizarre images. Squinting my eyes I saw in front of me a normal human girl with no deformities and whose clothes were clean that meant they had none of the sticky syrup or the dust of the street on them. She was holding a bag and walked into a building. Another stepped out of a vehicle, stopped at the curbside. She looked at me and smiled but walked into the building as well. The building was large and very old. I followed them through the door and saw there were a group of these people emptying the contents of their bags into clear cups. They offered me some, but I declined. The taste of the strawberry drink made me sick. I saw a cup of the syrup on the floor and took that instead. Those in the room started to tell me something. I think they were trying to stop me from drinking it, but I was too quick. The syrup touched my lips and I immediately hit the floor, my head spinning. That was strong almost pure.
One of the girls walked out into the street, to fetch another bag from the vehicle, but as she turned back to the door, she was grabbed by some men and was dragged down an alley. I jumped up and followed them. One held a cup of syrup and forced her to drink it. They poured the bag of clear liquid onto the ground. The girl immediately wanted more of the syrup and started laughing. Soon she was covered in the sticky syrup and the men were laughing around her. They walked back into the street, past me, and to the stopped vehicle, where they started to vandalise it and destroy its contents and its ability to move again.
I looked at my feet. The spilt clear liquid ran into the gutter from the alley. The alley floor seemed clean. Perhaps my eyes were behaving peculiar. A man walking by stood on the liquid trail and slipped as though on ice. A body in the gutter around which the liquid pooled began to move. The man revived, got up and walked away. I could not comprehend it. How could this be? The liquid flowed further out into the road and the traffic began at first to quiver and then as the vehicles ran over the liquid there was a sideways slip with one of them and they began to career over the roadway, crashing into each other, crumpling up, and some careened over the pavement into people and into buildings. I dodged back into the alley. A vehicle crashed straight into the mouth of the alley and burst into flames. This caused a chain reaction with those on the road behind it. The flames became intense like a furnace. I could hear people screaming as they disappeared into the flames and I soon realised why. The sticky residues of the syrup along the walls of the buildings and the alley flared into an intense flame. In my daze, I knew I had to escape, but I sat on the ground doubled up in pain. I saw that the spilt liquid was still there under the flames, neither evaporating nor burning. My legs would not move, so I dragged myself up the alley using my hands which were sticky like glue. I found a doorway and slipped into it just before the flames passed over my head. The heat was now intense and I was very thirsty. To my relief there were more cups of syrup stacked in a corner. There were people in the room but they were looking out of the window at the front and laughing at the carnage in the street. I lay on the floor too weak to move, too numb to care any longer. I had a drink and I was happy. I heard laughter again and realised it was me.
The flames were now in the room. I know. I could hear them but I could not move. A shelf on the wall above split and fell down. There were three bags on the shelf which burst as they hit the floor. I was covered in a liquid. I opened my eyes to see the flames and saw that I was soaked.
The Two Cups
© KSW 31/3/99
CHAPTER TWO
I sat trying to find an explanation as to what the two liquids could possibly be. I looked at the cups now towering above me. The one containing the clear liquid was actually transparent, like glass. I could see the far wall through the cup. The other cup was matt black in colour and was wider .
My tongue longed once again for more of the sweetness. I stood and gathered a double portion of the syrup into my mouth. I climbed on to the handle to reach further into the cup, but in no time I was lightheaded once again and my stomach cramps became much worse than the first time around. I could not get away however and was totally hooked on the taste. My eyes bulged at the amount of syrup to be had in the cup and I laughed aloud in ecstasy.
The door to the room suddenly opened but no one entered. Perhaps it was the wind. I slid off the handle onto the floor. My head was screaming and wanted to depart from my body but I stumbled to the door and out into the street. Now I was floating. This syrup must be intoxicating. I did not recognise the street but people seemed to know me. Some called out my name, some started walking beside me. Others jostled me and others beckoned me to follow them into alleys off the street or into the many doorways. There were people and animals crowding the pavements, some of the people were sleeping either in the doorways or in the gutter beside the road. There were all types of animals. Some of them wild, out of place here in the street, because I associated them as belonging in a jungle. There was an endless stream of traffic on the road. Vehicles of all types passed by, but in one direction only. The road was hedged in by buildings of various styles and sizes. The crowds were milling in any direction and I was simply dragged along by the swell. A fracas broke out suddenly in front of me. It seemed to be over an animal which stood next to a man. The animal was bloated and blood dripped from its mouth. The accuser produced a long slim object and in no time his opponent was on the floor and the animal was lying beside him. Wild animals suddenly convened from all directions and in a quick frenzy tore the flesh off the animal and devoured it. They left the man alone. I was sickened and needed a drink, fast. I turned around to return to the room with the two cups, but I could no longer see it. It should have been a short distance behind me but all I saw was the street. I looked around again and saw on a table a small black goblet. I lunged for it and knew it contained the same syrup. I drank quickly lest anyone should see me and start a commotion. It was a huge relief, but due to the excitement of the street scene I had put the pain to one side of my feelings. On a shelf near the table was a glass goblet containing the strawberry drink but I left that alone.
When I turned, I tripped over the man lying prostrate on the pavement. His body was still but his eyes suggested he was alive, even though they told that he was going through some inner torment. His flesh was putrefying. His wound was infested. I wanted a closer look but someone lifted me clear of him and another dragged him into the gutter to lie there with a lot of others. I searched the gutter for signs of life but many bodies had one of more limbs missing, were shrivelled up, or had bloated stomachs. Some were too decomposed or grotesque to look at. My head swam with a thousand emotions raging through it.
I staggered to a doorway and was immediately pulled inside and a cup of the black syrup was thrust into my hands. This was remarkable. How could they know I needed a drink of this again? I drank the cup until no more of the syrup remained and looked about. In the room was a table upon which lay an animal I couldn’t recognise. About fifteen people stood or sat in the room and at times poked or prodded the animal with instruments of torture. It screamed but the people laughed and carried on with the prodding. I protested at this business and they looked at me dumbfounded and then started after me holding their instruments menacingly. They looked very evil. As one lunged for me, I stretched out my hand, found his neck and squeezed with all my strength. He fell to the floor and did not move. The others laughed at this and they all tried to lunge at me. I bolted out of the door and into the road, into the traffic. I could not see anything. The noise and the wheels and the vehicles roared on by. Nothing stopped or even slowed down. I cannot say how, but I managed to reach the other side of the road without being seriously hit. I had bruises on my arms but I considered myself fortunate because my followers were hit by the vehicles, flung to the ground, ran over countless times, their bodies breaking into pieces.
The Two Cups - Chapter One
© KSW 31/3/99
Ahead of me were two cauldrons or enormous cups, larger than any cup I had seen before. They seemed to be the only objects in the room in which I was standing. The room was square and its only light came from one window, high upon the wall opposite the door through which I had entered. I sniffed an aroma I could not recognise. Strong, sweet, yet tinged with an odour like rotten vegetables.
The cups sat in the centre of the room, next to each other. I went up to them and looked over the tops which were almost as high as I was tall and I had to stand on tip toe.. The cup on the left was filled to the brim with a dark, thick liquid and looked like syrup. The cup on the right was filled to the brim with a clear, red liquid. It was so clear the bottom of the cup was visible. There was a drop of liquid on the rim of this cup which I scraped up with the tip of my finger and tasted it. I screwed my face up as the liquid tasted almost medicinal. It was like a medicine I had as a child and was flavoured strawberry.
I moved across to the other cup again and took some of the syrup from the rim. The droplet was sticky, like honey but the taste was phenomenally amazing. Far sweeter than honey, in fact than anything I had ever had tasted before and it smelled like fresh baked cake. The sweetness was not overpowering or unpleasant, such as something that would shoot warning signs through your brain to warn you about it being bad for your teeth. It was a melt-in-your-mouth texture which seemed to evaporate as it slid down the throat. I immediately wanted more and therefore grabbed a handful of the syrupy liquid and swallowed greedily. As I licked my hand I began to look around the room seeking something with which to use as a scoop so I could get more of this liquid without making my hands totally sticky. Finding nothing about I went to the cup of the strawberry liquid and using my hands scooped some of the liquid into my mouth. The syrup had made me thirsty and this looked as though it would quench my thirst. The stickiness had disappeared as if I had washed my hands under a running tap, however the medicinal taste was still there and it made me heave.
I wanted some more of that very tempting sweet syrup. This was quickly becoming an addiction. I contemplated looking for a scoop outside but I could not wait that long until drinking even more of the strange dark liquid. I took several handfuls but then felt a slight twinge in my Stomach. It was a sharp pain but it happened just once. Perhaps it was a muscle spasm after having to reach over the rim of the cups to get to the liquids. Now I felt lightheaded but not sick. In fact I was happy. This syrup was amazing, brilliant. All the tastes I had ever wanted were rolled together and I was fantastically delirious. I couldn’t stop, not now and attempted to drink a huge amount. I could not focus properly, my head was beginning to swim about, my legs felt weak and numb and now my stomach hurt even more. The pain was lasting longer. What was happening to me? It must have something to do with one of these cups, but which one? I had drunk a lot of the syrup and my hands were covered in the stuff but not so much of the strawberry drink. I turned to the other cup grasping for its rim. The soft, free flowing liquid ran through my hands as I drank and down my arms but through my bleary eyes, I noticed it washed the sticky syrup off my hands. After a few sips my head cleared and I became stronger. It seemed almost immediate. My pain disappeared. Pity the taste was so disgusting.
Ahead of me were two cauldrons or enormous cups, larger than any cup I had seen before. They seemed to be the only objects in the room in which I was standing. The room was square and its only light came from one window, high upon the wall opposite the door through which I had entered. I sniffed an aroma I could not recognise. Strong, sweet, yet tinged with an odour like rotten vegetables.
The cups sat in the centre of the room, next to each other. I went up to them and looked over the tops which were almost as high as I was tall and I had to stand on tip toe.. The cup on the left was filled to the brim with a dark, thick liquid and looked like syrup. The cup on the right was filled to the brim with a clear, red liquid. It was so clear the bottom of the cup was visible. There was a drop of liquid on the rim of this cup which I scraped up with the tip of my finger and tasted it. I screwed my face up as the liquid tasted almost medicinal. It was like a medicine I had as a child and was flavoured strawberry.
I moved across to the other cup again and took some of the syrup from the rim. The droplet was sticky, like honey but the taste was phenomenally amazing. Far sweeter than honey, in fact than anything I had ever had tasted before and it smelled like fresh baked cake. The sweetness was not overpowering or unpleasant, such as something that would shoot warning signs through your brain to warn you about it being bad for your teeth. It was a melt-in-your-mouth texture which seemed to evaporate as it slid down the throat. I immediately wanted more and therefore grabbed a handful of the syrupy liquid and swallowed greedily. As I licked my hand I began to look around the room seeking something with which to use as a scoop so I could get more of this liquid without making my hands totally sticky. Finding nothing about I went to the cup of the strawberry liquid and using my hands scooped some of the liquid into my mouth. The syrup had made me thirsty and this looked as though it would quench my thirst. The stickiness had disappeared as if I had washed my hands under a running tap, however the medicinal taste was still there and it made me heave.
I wanted some more of that very tempting sweet syrup. This was quickly becoming an addiction. I contemplated looking for a scoop outside but I could not wait that long until drinking even more of the strange dark liquid. I took several handfuls but then felt a slight twinge in my Stomach. It was a sharp pain but it happened just once. Perhaps it was a muscle spasm after having to reach over the rim of the cups to get to the liquids. Now I felt lightheaded but not sick. In fact I was happy. This syrup was amazing, brilliant. All the tastes I had ever wanted were rolled together and I was fantastically delirious. I couldn’t stop, not now and attempted to drink a huge amount. I could not focus properly, my head was beginning to swim about, my legs felt weak and numb and now my stomach hurt even more. The pain was lasting longer. What was happening to me? It must have something to do with one of these cups, but which one? I had drunk a lot of the syrup and my hands were covered in the stuff but not so much of the strawberry drink. I turned to the other cup grasping for its rim. The soft, free flowing liquid ran through my hands as I drank and down my arms but through my bleary eyes, I noticed it washed the sticky syrup off my hands. After a few sips my head cleared and I became stronger. It seemed almost immediate. My pain disappeared. Pity the taste was so disgusting.
Saint Nick too
Yes, Saint Nick is alive and kicking all throughout Germany. All of the children know who Saint Nick is and what he does, but there is one condition. Clean shoes. All children must put their shoes out for the visitor to fill them with his delights, but woe to the ones who do not clean them prior to putting them out. Saint Nick will look upon them in disdain and may even pass by a pair of dirty shoes.
I write this on the eve of Christmas. A time of expectant children waiting for Santa Claus to come and fill their stockings or entire ground floor of bedroom, (depending on your outlook), and children must have a good heart or be on good behaviour to receive a gift from Santa.
The two stories are interlinked through the eons of history and the interpretations and distortions of culture and media, yet there is more.
We celebrate the birth of Christ and we know that he was willing to give us a gift. The gift of eternal life. We don't need to be good or clean our shoes, yet we need to repent, and ask Jesus for forgiveness for all the wrong we have done. Jesus will fill your heart and make as new and you shall have joy in knowing that God will welcome you as a child into his arms.
Merry Christmas.
I write this on the eve of Christmas. A time of expectant children waiting for Santa Claus to come and fill their stockings or entire ground floor of bedroom, (depending on your outlook), and children must have a good heart or be on good behaviour to receive a gift from Santa.
The two stories are interlinked through the eons of history and the interpretations and distortions of culture and media, yet there is more.
We celebrate the birth of Christ and we know that he was willing to give us a gift. The gift of eternal life. We don't need to be good or clean our shoes, yet we need to repent, and ask Jesus for forgiveness for all the wrong we have done. Jesus will fill your heart and make as new and you shall have joy in knowing that God will welcome you as a child into his arms.
Merry Christmas.
Saint Nick
I find it hilarious how commercialised our Christmas is becoming. Every company is jumping on the bandwagon wanting you to buy their product, instead of someone else's. Every company believes their product is better than the rest and there is nowadays a huge emphasis on the fact that people cannot live without these products.
I read an article this weekend about the endeavour of a german lady who thinks that Germans are forgetting their past icon more in favour of the present icon. Christmas was really a small affair in Germany, but December 6th was the time in the past when small gifts would be exchanged in honour of Saint Nicolas. German children would leave their shoes out overnight on the 6th December, for them to be filled the next morning with goodies, namely fruit or sweets.
Santa Claus (a derivative of Saint Nicolas) has taken over the tradition and moved to coincide with Christmas on 24th December. The goodies become larger, more elaborate. No longer content with just a shoe full. Santa Claus has taken over the world, portraying greed, envy, lust, desire with our emotions to get the best and the most original, for our loved ones; to gain some satisfaction in seeing their faces, knowing that you went all out for the best and most expensive, and they love it....for a minute. Then its on to the next present from uncle Joe, and the best and expensive item you bought is forgotten amongst the shards of wrapping paper, as uncle Joe's simple gift provides the most fun. Rejection hurts and turns to rage, bitterness and strife.
Furthermore, the real reason of why we celebrate Christmas is forgotten. Buried under the relentless bright lights, slogans, noise of the advertising world striving to get your attention and part with your money, it surfaces occasionally in a small picture, or the model nativity figures on the display stand in the middle of the mall or a sounding of a carol over the tannoys as you shop. You listen to the words of the carols, but your eyes feast in the goodies offered on the shelves. You hear the plight of the poor during the breaks as you watch the endless stream of fun and film on the flickering box in the corner, satisfied after a 6 course midday meal. You hear the traditional christmas message, half asleep in well earned slumber, but the message itself is not strong or clear, as it wants to incorporate something which people may actually want to watch.
On these days. the churches compete with the shops. Compete with the TV. Compete with other faiths, trying to sell you their message of peace and enlightenment.
But where is the child?
Where is Jesus?
He gave you the ultimate gift. The costliest, most expensive gift you could ever recieve. Eternal life. A life with God in heaven. For ever.
Don't bury Jesus under the shards of wrapping paper. Don't stick him on the top of the tree. With the flashing neon lights around you, open the Bible. With the latest chart pop song in your ears, pray to him.
When you reach out to Jesus, he'll find you.
He has no flashing lights or sounds. He's there. In all and everything and wants to be in your heart this Christmas.
Celebrate Jesus and not your wealth and you'll have the best Christmas ever.
PS. I'm off to Germany for two weeks, so I'll put my shoes out waiting for Saint Nick this Wednesday.
Ice
I was reading an article this week. Don't ask me where from as I don't name sources, (apart from the fact I can't remember!). It concerned our body's ability to cope with the differing climates throughout the world. Medical boffins agree that our bodies are best suited for warm, temperate climates, rather than the cold ice and snow.
There are only a few differences (apparently) in degrees between what is good for us and what is not. Look at the following:
24C - top range of comfort
21C - recommended living room temperature
Less than 20C - death risk begins
18C - recommended bedroom temperature
16C - resistance to respiratory diseases weakened
12C - more than two hours at this temperature raises blood pressure and increases heart attack and stroke risk
5C - Significant risk of hypothermia
This is why in winter so many elderly and poorly people suffer so much. Checking the weather around the world today indicates some great temperature extremes in just the northern hemisphere. Winnipeg - 18C, Chicago -4C, San Diego +25C. Moscow +2C, Kiev -4C, Athens +21C.
What happens to the elderly in these towns? Our UK govt reports that they won't increase the fuel allowance for the elderly this year despite rapidly rising fuel costs, which then eat further into their meagre pensions, forcing some to withgo food just to keep a little warm.
God made us and created us to inhabit the Garden of Eden, a warm, temperate place, where no rain fell, yet was watered out of springs from the beneath the earth.
When sin entered the world and man was forced out from the Garden of Eden, and as sin grew exponentially, the came the first rains (Genesis 6) and also began to form the ice and the permafrost in the polar regions. I believe that Ice was not intended to be present on the earth. Imagine there being no cold climate, no frost to scrape away from our windscreens, no snow to clear from our paths, no skiing to watch or take part in. Our bodies cannot survive for long in the cold, yet there are those who dwell in the cold lands, the eskimos, for example, and the odd alpine skier!
Next time you shovel snow off your path, ask yourself, did God ever intend me to do this? It is clear the power of the effect of sin on our world.
I'll see you after I've moved to the mediterranean!
There are only a few differences (apparently) in degrees between what is good for us and what is not. Look at the following:
24C - top range of comfort
21C - recommended living room temperature
Less than 20C - death risk begins
18C - recommended bedroom temperature
16C - resistance to respiratory diseases weakened
12C - more than two hours at this temperature raises blood pressure and increases heart attack and stroke risk
5C - Significant risk of hypothermia
This is why in winter so many elderly and poorly people suffer so much. Checking the weather around the world today indicates some great temperature extremes in just the northern hemisphere. Winnipeg - 18C, Chicago -4C, San Diego +25C. Moscow +2C, Kiev -4C, Athens +21C.
What happens to the elderly in these towns? Our UK govt reports that they won't increase the fuel allowance for the elderly this year despite rapidly rising fuel costs, which then eat further into their meagre pensions, forcing some to withgo food just to keep a little warm.
God made us and created us to inhabit the Garden of Eden, a warm, temperate place, where no rain fell, yet was watered out of springs from the beneath the earth.
When sin entered the world and man was forced out from the Garden of Eden, and as sin grew exponentially, the came the first rains (Genesis 6) and also began to form the ice and the permafrost in the polar regions. I believe that Ice was not intended to be present on the earth. Imagine there being no cold climate, no frost to scrape away from our windscreens, no snow to clear from our paths, no skiing to watch or take part in. Our bodies cannot survive for long in the cold, yet there are those who dwell in the cold lands, the eskimos, for example, and the odd alpine skier!
Next time you shovel snow off your path, ask yourself, did God ever intend me to do this? It is clear the power of the effect of sin on our world.
I'll see you after I've moved to the mediterranean!
Polonium 210
It is surprising how a small amount of radiation appears to affect so much. Suddenly from the reports after the death of Alexander Litvinenko, the number of places seemingly infected is increasing as the investigation into the poisoning continues. From perhaps the perp and victim being involved, there are now concerns that traces may be found among more than 33000 people, and as the team of detectives trace the journeys of people so more may possibly become involved.
Jesus tells us a little yeast works a long way through the dough.
Imagine how small a droplet of God's word can work and how many we can effect by telling someone our testimony or by speaking a verse of truth to them.
Who knows. By lunchtime an entire city may know. Then by tea time a nation?
This appears the same how an email can be sent to so many people around the world in seconds, whereby people forward to their friends..to their friends and on and on it goes.
So you think a small verse of the bible may not matter and it may only affect one person, but it may be enough to convict you!
Jesus tells us a little yeast works a long way through the dough.
Imagine how small a droplet of God's word can work and how many we can effect by telling someone our testimony or by speaking a verse of truth to them.
Who knows. By lunchtime an entire city may know. Then by tea time a nation?
This appears the same how an email can be sent to so many people around the world in seconds, whereby people forward to their friends..to their friends and on and on it goes.
So you think a small verse of the bible may not matter and it may only affect one person, but it may be enough to convict you!
I've Started blogging!
This is a first for me, so there you have it. I'm here. Reached the world of cyberspace after being diverted via Andromeda (who's she?).
This endeavour will take you further in the way you think about the bible and the Christian life, since we all live in a world which cries out for that small light and the still small voice of God amongst the noise of the ipod and the clack of the keyboard.
So....the journey begins........
This endeavour will take you further in the way you think about the bible and the Christian life, since we all live in a world which cries out for that small light and the still small voice of God amongst the noise of the ipod and the clack of the keyboard.
So....the journey begins........
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