And Jesus was a sailor
When he walked upon the water
And he spent a long time watching
From His lonely wooden tower
And when he knew for certain
Only drowning men could see him
He said, “All men will be sailors then
Until the sea shall free them.”
This is another one of those days; which seem to be occurring now more frequently than in the past. Nothing special really happened. Another day with the all too frequent chronic physical pain, sadness, and disappointment concerning the events and people all about me.
Additionally, there is a lack of surety of what to do on the morrow; not knowing what to do haunts me like the memory of a burnt out dream. Knowing what to do seems to be one of those things that get harder with sickness and age. Also, somehow I feel that I am not being true to my calling because I struggle with this reoccurring deep sadness; somehow I should be stronger and able to fight off these thoughts and disappointments. Somehow my courage and faith should lead me onward like a champion against the wind.
Tauntingly I hear the poet call out: O spiritual traveler, rise higher and fly on the wind: you are a child of the universe. Leave these momentary cares behind and soar on the wings of God’ Love. These pains will pass like a late afternoon thunderstorm and your tears will dry in the warm afternoon sunshine.
You know, some days the fine words of poets and philosophers cannot touch the tears and pain that swell-up; all that is possible are our tears, crying out because we are weak and unable to conquer this frailty. Every place I turn it seems some one is hurting someone or taking and stealing from a weaker brother. There are so many troubles in this world: that only an ocean of blessings will temporarily restore this balance.
Look up ahead, I see the Lighthouse with its beacon calling out through the rain and clouds; yet, I no longer can tend the sails or hold the rudder true to course. All I want is to sleep and ride out the storm.
Now, O Lord, it’s time for You to fill my sails and steer ahead.
But he himself was broken
Long before the sky would open
Forsaken, almost human
He sank beneath your wisdom like a stone
And you want to travel with him
And you want to travel blind
And you think maybe you’ll trust him
For he’s touched your perfect body with his mind.
Leonard Cohen, Suzanne
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- Why Must Each Soul Taste Death ? by Dr. Stewart Bitkoff (mycaravanofdreams.com)
- Higher Knowledge & Spiritual Experience: What to Buy? by Dr. Stewart Bitkoff (mycaravanofdreams.com)
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- God Men & God Consciousness by Dr. Stewart Bitkoff (mycaravanofdreams.com)
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- The Sun of Awakening by Dr. Stewart Bitkoff (mycaravanofdreams.com)