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“Deadly Brinkmanship,” so describes a journalist’s take on Putin’s reputation as he threatens Ukrainian cities of chemical, biological, cyber, or nuclear weapons—”on special combat readiness”—As well as other nations that support his siege. Sounds like the bully across the lot, his slingshot aimed at the munchkin with the torn jacket giggling behind his back.
So, it’s about power ripped out of context like a sizzling electrical current gone haywire. This has happened before. History bristles with war; many have suffered losses of limb and life and identity, only to rebuild with innovative change and to start families within communities. Such upheavals evoke fresh courage and vision.
Those who do not survive, transition to other realms, their spirits afresh with lightness and emboldened by Jesus’s promise in the gospel of Matthew:
…And fear not them which kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul: but rather fear him which is able to destroy both soul and body in hell.
Faith and trust in the Cosmic Christ liken us to the munchkin with the refreshing smile. Putin and his “Deadly Brinkmanship” disintegrate within the big picture of salvation—another figurehead wearing slick aviator shoes; some with pumps so as to appear taller.
At 6 A.M., I awoke with this helpful dream:
It is night. I receive a call from a church member who asks my help with a problem. In my brown-and-white cotton shirtwaist dress, I look trim as I make my way to the church. Alone, I figure out the problem. Later, I understand that everyone is relieved.
In my psyche there is a problem-solver who serves me well, though often obscured and seemingly unavailable in daylight. In that realm I continually apply the Twelve Steps to my character defeats as they relate to my terminal illness, with increasing weakness and shortness of breath. Yet I’m still up and about.
I expect the dream’s problem is related to my flim-flam acceptance of what is coming, and the church needs my expertise in resolving it. No one has experienced the spiritual depths to sound its perimeters, unlike Job’s three friends who jabbered on and on from their neatly construed theologies like faucets belching tainted water.
In the dream everyone is relieved with my passing.It’s been a long wait and a source of unease, if not grief, for many. Who likes being reminded of their mortality?
So the dream speaks of the necessity of my aloneness and the steadfast presence of the problem-solver in my psyche. This will work out. I’m certainly not unique in facing the end of this life.
Heart Whisperings 