The passions of tribal peoples.  Celebrating with unquenchable joy the exuberance of life. Not measured by things but by the size of their hearts and willingness to come together in reason, faith or season to do for the good of all what must be carried by all to be achieved.  What have we become without allegiance to something greater than our own belly full of dreams and wishes?  I want this and that and can’t wait to get my eyes, hands and aspirations all over the other.  Can I live a life of work that others might live a life of plenty or experience freedom from the efforts of my diplomacy, my persistence my production?

Today we dream.  Some dream of a time gone bye.  Views a simpler past where less complications and complexity gave a man the chance to breathe more slowly.  Putting together the components of a recipe for sovereignty, trying to recreate that which appears slipped away or consumed.  Preparing another batch of that most favored punch, hoping that the substitution of missing ingredients and improper sweetening will somehow taste equally refreshing.  Some dream of a sailboat dashed upon the rocks of new landing.  Leaving everything behind, sinking to the bottom to be buried for antiquity as memory, bad or fond, matters not for the newness of things will bring forgiveness, forgetfulness and investment.  They hunger for that new place but neither have direction, ownership or security of knowledge. So it remains simply dream.  Others hope to gather together the frail, windblown patches of today’s tapestry.  Holding their fists in passionate discussion claiming all will be lost without coalescence of thought, a thought that has already dissipated for lack of nurture and maintenance. But still they pound the desk, unwilling to do what it would take to heal the division and too afraid to admit the consuming maw of change.  What are we to do with these options few?

To me, I yearn not for the past as it is a thing to be remembered, in pain or pleasure it is history for the reasons of its failure.  I quest not for contentment in a world that sees no joy in the simple things of righteousness, togetherness and surrender to the concept of mutual determination.  I will not cry peace in a world that has no understanding of its machinery.  Nor will I look to new fresh lands for the frontier here exists no longer.  No where left in order to escape, perhaps Mars, or moon or interdimensional travel will remain the cry of those who would see our past submerged.  Free to perpetuate the same folly on new shores, new floors and doorways to distant lands.  No this future is not mine.  For I dream of true peace, the only peace brought about by the Creator of this and every land.  Life made anew without this sin and death and dying found currently in our crucible of preparation.  I seek the new land, the new life, life everlasting with God before me that I might know the answers to all my present yearning and curiosity.  This is where I will make my stand, not for a past that has gone, not for a people who serve themselves and have no desire to come together for mutual understanding, nor for escape to lands distant or moons of Saturn.  I wait and prepare for the return of Christ, loving you and working to endure the trials of this the era in which we find ourselves, forgiven.  If I dream it is of answered prayer for a good life for you and I, together hand in hand full of the Lord’s Joy in preparation and working for the harvest of God.  In this I find the peace necessary to withstand the fire and rain without complaint.  In God rests my trust.  In Jesus’ Holy Name.