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I had a garden once, before it froze. I just spit out a seed.

God is free, for the giving.

But I love looking into the sky. :rolleyes: Above is below me. But take noting literally.

Was nothing, he creates himself new each moment, eat of that, and ship out the past.

Jesus lost his name, like an old pair of socks, and is picked up as an apple seed, which becomes after someone plants it, then he becomes a nice round juicy apple, round and red in the sun. Tastes better than one of them flourless hosts anytime, or day, or night. And I dehydrate apples, so any...

if you work nights, ja?

Gnostic! Gazundheit!

Oh, look there, as here, God is, where I'm not! Which I love by, in, over and under the way.

You are what you eat, drink, smoke, chew, and pick at, or curse.

I use sticky notes, then stick em up on the window, for words which grab my fancy, um as, and use old cans to make wind sculpture, which hang in trees. Where has Jesus gone to?

Let there be light! And there is, already, it's day, and the desire was already met, a long, long time ago, around 7 am.

Ah... yes, no, maybe, and I don't know. Vote now! And get every one on all! Hands up, leaves out... same same.

Jesus is an apple seed, from which many trees can grow. And if you plant him in your heart, the love will overflow.

Start a garden, or make one in church, or a church in a garden, where it will grow. Um, next lesson is on bugs, in church. I see the light! And feel it! Yes! Right! Now! Water! Me!

He is us, by a lot less opposite. I am just amazed by his constancy everywhere, like a broom that whisks off a dusty stair, or a hand that reached out to build a chair. One sits is full amazement without a word left to fill the cup, I am emptied out, as He is filling up.

Here, there, everywhere a stair. Up from down calamity, in from that of care.

Of being free when losing me above the ground, a cloudy tree.

Re: Was Jesus merely a prophet whose authority was similar to that of Moses, Buddha, Dear Jesus, Where are you now Sir? My sins lie beneath me like broken chains. What choice that released me with no time remains. You know all, as all, in all, but don't tell of finer things that come, as...

Jesus wasn't, isn't superman. More grass-like, universally available, and basically elemental. Even the rocks can worship! On Sunny days.

2010, 2011, 2012...