Copper Chronicles

My soul has found a place of rest, finally after fifty years. I am having my Jubilee!

Jubilee is, I believe, a place or season in time God designs for the righting of wrongs. A time of deliverance and recompense, the Bible says. The celebration includes a year long rest, where all debts are cancelled. Debtors are free from their burdens. That means me too!

Even I am free from my burdens which seems right. “What is impossible for men is possible with God” Luke 18:27 says.

A season that releases us from past burdens reflects God’s nature and character. He should like us to live free by His Laws and the universal law of Love demonstrated in Christ. But, as human beings we fall short and our lives become filled with burdens. Therefore, we labor to overcome our limitations and be our best selves.

Like Adam and Eve, we part from God. To whatever degree we absent Him from our lives, we wind up scratching around this dirty world trying to find sustenance. But, God planned for us a whole garden!

Merciful God, knowing all our human effort is not sufficient to make us whole, gives us His nature freely, love we cannot possibly earn, freedom, and a whole new life.

Soul Peace!

That what disturbs me is allowed to exist is proof of God’s love. What is, is by no means a reflection of what could be. Like a bear looking for berries, I have been wandering the wilderness of the world, biting this, nibbling at that. Now, I have toxic shock syndrome of the soul.

Priests say a lot of things I don’t understand. But, the adage confession is good for the soul seems universally accepted in our culture. Certainly, we must discern what we are saying and to whom. Children do not possess the ability to understand what they are hearing or experiencing.

Growing up watching television, I saw and learned behavior conventionally viewed as “adult” that was traumatizing. I remember being in what mother called “The Den.” The room had a puce green rug, a popular color in the seventies. I’d sit on the floor watching television because I was nimble and stretchy like children are. The comfy seats were for the older people who worked long hours like my dad. His armchair was orange.

It was Friday night. In my childlike mind this meant nothing except everyone else was gone. Alone, I put on the television.

It was dark outside. I was very young; but old enough to wonder, Should I be alone at 10 o’clock at night?

“Quincy” with Jack Klugman was on. His character was a doctor who worked at a city morgue and solved crimes, I believe. A man lay dead on a metallic table; a cold sheet covered him.

Quincy lifted the cover to reveal a grey, lifeless head. Music played dramatically in the background as if a man being murdered was very exciting. And we should all be glued to the television to find out why.

Like I said about children, I didn’t have words or understand what I was experiencing then. Murder scared me. I turned it off and wondered why I was alone. Am I safe? If people are murdered outside, is my family OK? Is anywhere safe??

Hollywood has made murder a sport. Displaying human beings in brutal and depraved ways is entertainment.

Are human beings like this? Or does watching television make them so??

Now that I know I am loved and have three powerful friends, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, this doesn’t scare me. I understand why people may not want me around. I know horrible things. Things that are hard to see and hear.

I am like a “liver” of collective consciousness. But, I know The Cure! We’re going to need intellectual, spiritual, and actual lemon juice for starters. Lots of it.

I feel like God is making room on my insides. They feel mushy. The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit said they’d come and make their abode with me.

That should put an end to my lonely existence. It’s possible being “present” will fix my morose episodes. Why go meandering in my past, or reliving nagging regrets with Love itself in Human Form attending me faithfully?

Maybe writing is my way of soul searching- getting out the misconceptions and false perceptions about the world, and Who I am in it? Seems a tedious task to perform with such prestigious guests. But, it is the nature of God, Himself, ‘to help.’ Love helps.

Love doesn’t lie to me, confuse me with distractions and illusions to capture my attention. Someone who loves me exposes lies and deceit- so I don’t get caught in the nettles of life.

Like a Good Shepard, Jesus is there. I sound like a State Farm commercial. Ugh!! See how thoroughly the world gets into our beings, speech, and thought patterns? And, influences them??

Now wonder St. Therese had such a happy life. No constant barrage of commercialism in the French countryside a century ago.

When I wrote those words, State Farm’s jingle rhythm accompanied my pen.

This cultural de-tangling may be an exhausting job. How am I to exist in a realm with God and speak to Him, when the a**holes who own insurance companies have through decades of cultural influence and manipulation sowed their jingle into my soul?

Then, it triggers me like a supper bell, like I am Pavlov’s dog in an experiment. It rings and I obey. At least, today it has distracted me from my personal, non-commercial quest of salvation.

Clearly, I am trying to speak to someones superior to State Farm Insurance Company. You have lost your sale!

One way to combat this awful conditioning by market manipulators is: Every time I hear that jingle I will say, “Like a good neighbor, Jesus is there!” But, I ought not to be a tedious neighbor myself. And, talk too much about myself or seem to be complaining.

I am sure this new habit will reduce my morose musings. How can one remain sullen and ill-tempered in the presence of One who is Love?

Exploring subtle meanings of words that my previous, naive self ignored, I believe State Farm is a mocking allusion to “Animal Farm,” by George Orwell. The modern day Company Store requires its dues.

Let’s say I pay the Company Store $100 each month to insure my truck. Over the course of forty years, I’ve spent nearly $50,000 for insurance because I was legally required to. It’s like a tribute to the mob, only the criminals have made it appear respectable by making it law.

My hundred dollars contributed to a market fund compounding annually at 8% would be worth $350, 000 now. That is plenty of funds for any kind of emergency I may have in life. Compounded annually in a 12% Market ETF, my money may be worth over a million dollars already.

So, I am the Animal in this farm scenario. I handed over valuable income that could be emergency funds and retirement money to the “State” Farm. So, they could watch it grow into staggering amounts of money which must far outweigh the payouts they give. Otherwise, they wouldn’t continue to do it.

Compulsory payouts to the Company Store. That’s the State Farm. No wonder the animals are trying to destroy it.

It’s possible my long and lonely existence is due to an absence of love. Life itself has energy, its almost effervescent even chaotic. What happens to a soul that is disconnected from love? An island?

We’ve been told “No man is an island.” But, my well-being requires more than metaphors to survive. What if some people are islands and we’ve been lied to all our lives?

Aren’t islands typically desirable places to go? We go on vacations to paradisaical places. And dream of escaping to places like the Florida Keys. At least I do. What is undesirable about being surrounded by the sea, warm sand, and the hot sun?

So, a lie is like a vacuum, then. False statements steal from us something that is valuable, like our souls and our purposes.

I can be an island if I want. I can be hospitable and invite people over. Then, when I am feeling tired or unnerved, I can retreat into my private paradise.

I believe “No man is an island” – like everything we see and hear – can appear one way. But, then have deeper and more subtle meanings naive and foolish people miss. Sort of like the phrase, “Share the wealth” means: if you have something we want, we are going to take it from you.

Well, I tried that. People took everything I had. And, nothing left, I became a “non-essential” being. And, had to flee the state for refuge. See how very dangerous lies are?

So, untruths leave us empty like a black hole. But truth bestows, it dawns like the morning: it isn’t chaotic or parasitic in nature. It guides gently, but doesn’t force.

Understand that being an island isn’t a committed, life goal I am suggesting to anyone. Sometimes, in our places of refuge we miss good fortune and benefits of people who do love us.

Lies leave holes in our soul. Emptiness. Love is what gently and sweetly opens our eyes to realize things are not always what they appear.