The Wild Olive Shoot Community


Once, there was a church that received a vision from God. They dared to do what no other church at that time had done. They grew, and spread across the nation. They called themselves the Blaze Community.

But it absorbed teachings from other groups, both Christian and Pagan. The vision became polluted. Rather than examining itself, the Blaze Community became proud and arrogant, standing alone as the true church, against all opposition.

The Blaze died to an ember as people left, fleeing tyranny, judgement, and forced austerity. Humbly, the Blaze Community leaders sought God's forgiveness and direction.

Now the community received a new vision. One of grace, love, forgiveness, and mercy. Aware that it had been given another chance by God, it renamed itself the Wild Olive Shoot Community, with the knowledge that God could pluck them out of the Cultivated Olive (the universal church) if they ever again fell away from the path to which God had called them.

Tuesday 21 February 2012

Private Room

You think of your mind as a private room
Somewhere to go to be alone
But the doors of your mind are open wide
And the uninvited just wander in.

Fleeting Impulses,
Faster than thought.
Shoot out your hand to strike or grab.
Use your voice to shout strange words.
Or turn your gaze to something lost
Or a treasure to be found.

Urges, nagging you to cut, smoke, inject or drink
To steal, and fight, and wreck, and burn.
Or maybe to call a wandered friend
Or repair a broken family bond.

Whisperers reveal hidden things
Words of knowledge, wisdom and truth
Or lies, doubts, self-loathing and fears
Encouraging words, flattering words
Words of hatred and revenge.

Inspirations: Born fully-formed.
Whole novels, grand paintings, and sculpture
Instruments of pain and torture
Science, maths and medicine
Crime and warfare and terror.

Fantasies: intoxicating dramas in your mind
Old conflicts endlessly replayed
And new ones forever rehearsed
Dreams of money, fame, sex, and power
With emotions as real as life,
But as substantial as cotton candy.

Passions: Strong emotion without cause
Lust and anger, jealousy and resentment
Thoughts clouded by smoke from blazing blood.

They come and they stay,
And we think they are us
We are their victims, their puppets
But, we have a choice.

The master became victim
So victim could be master
And our room can be cleared
And the door can be guarded

Then we decide who shares our mind.
Who guides our hand
And speaks with our voice.
And freedom and peace are ours.
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