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.

Sunday 19 February 2012

This is The Life

Do you remember me?

The Million a Month Man,
The Golden Boy.
The Kid with the Midas Touch.
I bought houses and cars
Even had my own plane
And an island in the sun.
And I thought, this is the life

I partied with princes
And lunched with the stars
I was always on TV
In mags and rags
Wherever I was
Cameras clicked
And I thought, this is the life

I had lovers and stalkers
The bad and the mad
Crooks and hustlers
Brown nosers, Gold diggers
And all that I did
They put in the news,
You couldn’t see the truth for the lies.
And I thought, is this the life?

When you can have what you want,
With the stroke of your pen,
The value of things lose their meaning.
I got bored with the houses
Bored with the cars
Bored with the new girl each night
And I thought, is this the life?

My heart was a void
Empty and aching
Nothing could satisfy
No drink, no drugs
No gamble, no thrill
Nothing could make me feel human
And I thought, I’ll end this life

They thought I was mad
When I sold all I had
And vanished into the night
Some thought I was dead
But it has to be said
They were near enough right.
I thought, death to the old life

I slept on the street
But who did I meet
But homeless men with a heart
They showed me their ways
And within a few days
I had friends right from the start
And I thought, is this the life?

No money have I
Except what I beg
Or work for from day to day
And I share with my friends
Whatever fate sends
Life is so good, I could cry.
And I thought, this is the life.

To the aged and youth,
I tell you this truth,
It don’t matter if you’re rich or you’re poor.
It’s not the money that makes you rich
But the friends you can count on for sure.
This is the life.
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2 comments:

  1. archensword20 February 2012 at 13:45

    Are you saying we should all be poor? Are you a communist, or a socialist? You sound like you are anti-wealth and anti-success. Maybe you are jealous? I understand you had your own business, but it flopped. I think I detect the aroma of sour grapes.

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  2. Waycyber20 February 2012 at 13:49

    No, I am quite happy as I am. I have been working in the same company for almost seven years, earning near on minimum wage, but I have enough to live on. True, I did have my own company, it was called Wayland CyberSmith Ltd. At its height, I earned £80k a year, which was more than enough to live on.

    What I am trying to say in this poem is that, whether life takes you up or down, your most valuable resource is your circle of true friends. People that will stand with you, support you, celebrate with you, and commiserate with you. With true friends, you are never really poor.

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