My Faith Reflection post took a bit of a break last Sunday as it was Mother's Day and I was thoroughly and happily spoiled rotten by my children.
I believe that there are no such things as coincidences and that, if one earnestly seeks understanding, that understanding will be happily given by God. Yesterday I sat with an incredibly diverse group of people and we discussed the value and concept of developing Self. What came out of the discussion for me is that we, as a species, generally find it so much easier to criticise and condemn other people; even to the extent of blaming anyone and anything else for our own misfortunes and failures, rather than taking ownership of ourselves and our actions.
When I think about it, those times when I am blocked from completing or doing those things I intended to do, are those times when I allow myself to feel like a victim; when I blame 'circumstances' for my actions and decisions; and when everyone around me is 'down' on me. When I accept my responsibility for myself, I find that life becomes easier to live and that completing my projects is much easier. Not that the work or projects are any easier, but that the will to push through the blockages is strong enough within me.
It is in this spirit that I once again bring my life to Jesus and ask God for His guidance and direction. I know that unless I do this, I am bound to keep repeating the blockages to my spiritual and personal growth. I also know that those blocks I have put up will recur ad infinitum without His help.
My story of Joseph in poetic form continues and fits in quite well with acceptance of responsibility for Self. Do enjoy it. The section which I posted previously is blued out so you don't have to read it all again...
|As we go into winter in South Africa - My Log Fire|
The days were short when I was young
And the nights so very long
I suppose every child feels that way
Not wanting to sleep, waiting for day
I knew each evening with my very first yawn
That there was an awfully long wait until dawn
My father, Jacob, had many children indeed
Twelve sons as well as some daughters to feed
We travelled the desert as many did before
With goats and sheep, pots and pans galore
Ever aware and listening out for out God's command
Waiting for Him to reach out His Holy Hand
I knew I was special and as I grew older
My boasts became louder, my actions bolder
My father loved me dearly, set me apart
And I traded on that love from the start
Today I'm not proud of the taunts I threw
And I understand my brothers' point of view
It was the cloak which upset them the most
"How many colours, what style" I'd boast
Then I started on those fateful dreams
They as the stars, bowing to me it seems
I knew it was a vision from The Holy One
And I know now that what was, had to be done
Yet what shock and torment on that fateful trip
When they grabbed my cloak and made me strip
I felt sure then that my dreams were wrong
That I'd misunderstood God's words all along
How could so precious a child; so loved; so good
Be killed for 'pranks' like a common 'hood'?
No thought in my head at the time for prayer
When I felt that knife move clean through my hair
My energy was turned purely to me, my life
Could I stand the pain? Anguish was rife
Then - the pleasure of a short respite
When the quarrel began - 'Killing's not right!'
My relief was short-lived as I was to see
A goat was caught and tied to a tree
Then it was slaughtered and wrapped in my cloak
The sight and the thought made me cry and choke
My suffering turned then to my father with fear
The pain and hurt would be more than he could bear
My emotions felt like a strip of rawhide
At once being stretched, pulled and plied
The moment things seemed to be under control
Hope would be dashed - a knife splicing my soul
I couldn't understand The Lord's mighty plan
My life appeared to be finished before it began