WHAT’S WHAT

I love to think about why things are the way they are. And, the power of belief. And the idea of hanging out with the Indwelling Spirit and all of that.

I think it’s extraordinary that a group of people got together, way back when, and wrote a book (The Bible) that said “We are Chosen by God” and got the people who weren’t chosen to say, over the ages, “Right On.” What’s up with the Not-Chosen? Beats me that they haven’t just walked off into the abyss, mumbling about self-esteem. Not so, they’re still around waiting for someone to tell them what’s what. Which reminds me of the punchline of a joke…”if I knew what’s what I’d be in College.”

Here’s how I think God set things up. For reasons that are not completely clear to me he decided to create what is and people it with, not surprisingly, people. So far so good. He gave people limbs and opposing thumbs (which are helpful in opening beer bottles) and the power to think and say “I have an idea” whereupon everything went in the shitter.

Which is probably where the people who decided to say “We are chosen by God” were, BEFORE they said it. And now look at where they’re at, telling everybody what’s what. So, it’s like they set a standard for themselves, “we’re chosen”, and put God to work for them. I like it.

Which gets me to the Power of Belief. If you can think it you can make it so, if you can think it at the level of intensity that causes the thought to become belief. Exhibit One for the Proposition, JC.

Let me close with a story. I’m sitting in Barnes & Noble on Broadway in NYC a couple of years ago sharing a table with a woman of the Jewish persuasion. I noticed she had some books on paranormal activity and mysticism in front of her. We started to chat a bit about the whys and wherefores of things. You know, what’s what type stuff.

After some of that, I said to her that “the Power that created everything that is, was or will be exists within me (and everyone else) and if I did not believe that to be so I could not finish this sentence.” She looked at me for an awkward moment, like a pineapple was growing out of my forehead, said nothing and walked away. About three minutes later, she came back and in a very friendly and gracious way said “I want to thank you for that wonderful conversation.”

The lady knew what’s what.

Comments are welcome at tomc[at]wednesdayswars[dot]com. Comments will be addressed in subsequent posts.