Tag Archives: poison

It’s Going Terminal

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The doctor said America’s sickness may be terminal.

He recommended daily ethics exercises, the majority of which should be done from the kneeling position.

He did not recommend heavy lifting; the lifting of one’s hands is best, given the ailment.

He also suggested that America might want to join a therapeutic group; one that can lay out a clear path to recovery.

I asked him if he had any particular group he would suggest more than all the others.

“Yes.” He said. “I have found that the only group capable of rectifying this kind of emergency, was the group they call ‘The Way'”.

And he recommended strongly that America should distance itself from those who simply give up and die.

I asked him what caused this. He told me it was a drug addiction.

America has been drinking the poison of liars for far too long.

What we really need is a prescription of truth elixir. But he was afraid to prescribe it because the patient is so weak.

Xanthium species

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burrTemptation sits idle along every path a man might walk.  It does not have the sense to desire you.  It simply remains, deadly and dishonorable.

It waits with senselessness to bring shame to anyone who would stop to admire it.  And when the soul begins to admire sin, dishonor flourishes.

Temptation is no better or worse if a soul drinks its poison.  It is the man, who reals about, blind, drunk, and dying.  Temptation simply sits waiting to be consumed.

Men think of temptation as if it were an enemy.  Temptation is not smart enough to be aggressive.  No.  The enemy is not temptation.  The enemy is folly that is bound up in the desire of the man.

With our desire we dishonor the One who made us.  With our desire we destroy our legacy.  With desire we make the choice to be useless and damaging.  The one who desires temptation is the one who owns his own choice.

The Upper Pond

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A man was very thirsty when he came upon a small pond.  There was an old man sitting by the side of the pond sipping a glass of water.

The man knew the water was safe, for the old man was in fine shape.  So he bent down to take a handful of water to his mouth.

“I wouldn’t drink that if I were you.”  The old man said.  Startled, the man threw the water back into the pond.  He looked at the old man with squinty eyes.

“Where’d you get the water you’re drinking?”  The man’s voice had a twinge of greed.  The old man just peered up under the brim of his hat.  “I got it from the pond.”  Was the slow and level response.

“Do you own this pond?”   The man asked.  “Nope.  I got directions here.”   Now the thirsty man was a bit perplexed.  “This ain’t your pond.  But you can sit there and drink the water while I dehydrate to death?  This is crazy!”

“Son, there is a pond for strangers at the bottom of the hill.  You can drink till you explode down there.  The water here is poisoned.”   The man gave the old man a sidewards glance.  “If its poisoned,  how come you ain’t dead?”

The old man stretched a bit, like he was remembering a fond moment.  “I got a bag of healing powder from the guy who owns this place.  That’s why I can drink this here water.  But you better not son.”

The thirsty man would have stood there to argue, but he was far too thirsty.  So he gave a dry spit toward the old man and started down the hill.

He heard the old man mutter, “Pride. . . You’ll be back boy.  Somebody thirsty as you is bound to meet the owner of this place.”  Not understanding what he meant, the thirsty man just kept going.

By His Grace