Reigning Hope

What a delightful surprise! Today I was walking down a familiar path; well rolling actually (I was pushed). Either I slipped, tripped over a branch along the way, or some other common befallment. My memory. It’s kind of foggy still.

It was such a blur. Everything happened so fast and well, I can't legally claim that it mattered enough to remember the exact moment that I went from walking to rolling or the specific thing that caused my foot to slip and my whole life to drastically change forever. But I digress.

I am here to tell you the story of a real life miracle that I personally encountered. I thought that you might find it Blank-Blank. You can fill in the blank with whatever it is that you are looking for in life today that causes you to feel empty, or hungry. Kind of like food hunger, but different in a way.

Behold the difference between a puppy and a rock. The difference is that one is surely alive and the other is certainly not. One is a real pet and the other one is a fake pet. Although the truth and the fact of this matter is that someone can hunt for a rock, catch a rock, name a rock, even talk to it, dress it up as a baby, believe it is alive with all the fibers knitting together their heart of hearts. Have a pet cemetery séance for all the tea in china even. It is still true that the rock is not alive.

It is not your real pet. It is not your friend. It has no soul, or spirit or breath. It is not alive, and never will be. You may follow me to the positive side now, as we will be examining each aspect through the wonderful phenomenon of opposites. I love how it balances everything out. Anyhoo, the puppy is now getting whiney with us not paying any attention to it.

It wants some comfort because it is scared. It is really hungry. Perhaps it has just pooped all over the ground instinctively and involuntarily. Yet, necessarily.

Because of course, unlike the rock, the puppy is indeed alive.

There were puppies thousands of years ago, and there could be puppies in thousands of years. It is possible. But the life of that puppy, your own puppy, is today and now. Not tomorrow or yesterday.

You must take care of your pet or it will die. Then the rock and your pet will be equal. Lacking life. Who is to judge whether or not the puppies' life mattered at all? Should he have ever been born? It seems now that his life has been quite selfish, never adding to the matrix in any potential way. Totally useless to the Universe at large.

The same goes with the earth that we, living fleshly creatures, all live in.

What was the ultimate difference between the live puppy, who had flesh and bones formed especially for him in his mother's womb; who lived, breathed, consumed, and wasted his days breathing oxygen and running around after pointless things; And the rock, who was never alive at all? It had no breath. No mother to seed it, no father to fertilize it, and no growth to sprout it. No rock family to be with or to make memories with. No souls were touched at all by the rock.

In this experiment, perspective is the magic wand of science. It fixes all of the ethical, moral, and even more questions that come along the way. My perspective is all I know, and all I have. All I have a right to.

When I open my curtains at my home, I look through the window that God made and see all of the wonder that He created. I usually do not see it glorifying Him in a direct, choice-driven way. Or see it as good at all. Most of the time.

But I believe though. I believe that the Lord created the heavens and the earth. How He did it, none of us can know or do know. I do believe that each person here does sense it, that He is our Father. That there is a method to this madness and that He is always in control of everything.

I don't know this by nature, but I perceive that God has made everyone because He loved us and wanted to have a family. It must be glorious to create your own children, who need you and grow up to be grateful, and who bless you in the future. That's what I'm banking on with my three little angels (crosses fingers).

He made each person with great expectations and high hope. An excellent standard. It may very well be that He secretly put One thing about Himself inside of each and every one of us. Even "bad" people.

Just think, even the bad people have bad people in their own lives. They are not bad, they are just trying to make it in a dog-eat-dog world. Unashamed that they are bad people to you. Unapologetic in their completely clear conciences. Absolutely unaware of the thoughts that you think towards them in anger day and night, cursing all their names to hell.

They go on. The sun rises, the world turns. The sands of the hourglass fall. Each one having its own note to play in the greatest ballad ever composed, the only ballad rather. It is called time, it is called history; it is called life on earth.

It is called humanity. Called the Sons and the Daughters of YHVH, the most high God. God is ONE. His name is YHVH.

I believe that I was brought forth from being something like a rock, to being something like a puppy. I was naught before I was born. I was not present here on earth or anywhere really. Just present in my Father's ultimate plan of salvation, as if that is not significant.

It is. But I can't legally say that I was living then. I was not in the human body that I have lived in since I came forth into this place in 1984.

Was I anything before I was born? Can't say for sure but I am so, so glad to be alive now. I would rather be in hell than not to be at all.

Even the worst of the worst days spent being alive here (think to the life of a gnat, or a fly stuck on a spider's web) I would still, definitely, without a doubt choose life over unconsciousness. I would rather be in hell than just not to be at all.

I reserve some wiggle room in my words, albeit; with my lack of being to hell and all. The real Hell that is burning furiously in the center of the earth right now.

Well, now that I think about it.. The agony, loneliness, regret and horror of hell.. I am certain that it is infinitely worse than anything I could ever imagine. Maybe; just maybe I would scream, "I'd like to take back my choice from that day that I had decided that hell was better than nonexistence!" Hopefully I'll never have to scream that though, by the grace and mercy of Yeshua.

If only there were rewind buttons on your real life. Would you, could you? Rewind back to before you were, and just never hit the play button. Just left your chances with "Probably going to end up in Hell, so I'm not gonna take that risk. No-sir Buddy."

Back to my walking story now, all I know is that it happened suddenly and quickly. Then it was like, well..... I myself was like the great and mighty Titanic sinking.

I remember that day. It was a day I lived over and over and over again inside my mind. My brain was continually working out all of the details of what could have possibly led to such a colossal devastation.

What could have possibly been done to save all of the passengers aboard who, ignorant of complete tragedies of like magnitude; were as mere gnats drawn by a friendly, familiar wind blowing gently.

Gently, no-harm-no-foul wind. You know, the kind that gets you by but doesn't rip your roof off like a helicopter's blades might. Leading me on and on and on. Coasting safely. Right straight for a blood-thirsty gnat-loving spider's web.

In that bitter moment it is like a shock goes over you. You are unable to locate the source of the doom, nor override it's control over you. So you succumb to nature; and twist and turn and kick and scream and use up all of your measly human energy that you had left for any real hope of survival.

Then the giant spider King appears, as a man gloats over a kill he brings home to the hungry family. It's glory time for the gigantic spider. He has made a web out of his own pride, his own self. He built it with his own blood, sweat, and tears. The hard work has obviously paid off. He must be a professional. The remains of the last few skeletons are proudly displayed beside you, assuring you of your certain torment to come.

He is a successful blood-sucker, today anyways; as you were stupid enough to trust the wind to blow you where you were supposed to be. "You should have known better" is what nature spells out in pure baby language for you; so your imbecile self can read it and know it. Know it to the core. The guilt and regret are intolerable!

How could that gnat have possibly avoided his death? His pea-sized brain replays instantly and continually, working out all of the gory details of what could have led to such a colossal devestation. All of the last seconds before its death will be utter grief. What could possibly be worse than knowing that you are indeed about to be eaten by a Superior being?

You are now absolutely stuck in his mighty web of lies, where struggling is futile and can even dig you deeper into the bottomless pit of potential horror. The more you move around, the more you try to remove your own self from the torment, all the more those sticky strands of silk attatch themselves to you. You have now been totally forsaken.

Then falls the dignity card, always the last to go. Forfeited from your hand by default. You can't even give up your pride with self-respect you gnat; you gnat you.

You must watch him swagger like a King over to you in his own sweet time. When he gets the fire ready to cook a meal well deserved. After all, his body has created a trap for hunting that you yourself are now stuck to forever; and man is it huge!

Terrifyingly significant, this ancient hunting device. Only now that you must admit that you are in need of help, could you have ever known.

It is larger than anyone could have possibly seen with their natural eyes. In fact, it was virtually invisible to the naked human eye. Nonetheless, there it most certainly was.

Still just as cruel, still just as dangerous, ever present. Lurking even. Yet invisible.

And what about that freaking evil wind?! Blowing all softly like everything was just hunky-dory.

"Let's have a party in this warm friendly wind, guys! Let's just throw caution to the amazing, wonderful, trustworthy wind. What could possibly go wrong here guys?! I've never been caught in a web myself before! I've only seen it happen to stupid idiot flies who have nothing to do with me! It could never ever happen to my family. We are better than that."

What a Benedict Arnold that wind has been to you. A betrayer of your trust, a bold-faced liar, and an accessory to murder in the first degree. Nature strikes again.

The stickiness of the web that you could only speculate about, before it mattered to you that you realize how powerful it actually was, will surely be your undoing.

The damage is done. There is no going back. This is a mistake that one can only make once.

It did not seem important in earlier times. Unnecessary knowledge, superfluous even. Who the hell cares how sticky a spider's web is? Besides freaks and outcasts, weirdoes of society.

I suppose that the wounded would also care. It must be much easier for a spider to catch a fly who has a broken antennae. He was flying all crazy and had no depth perception.

"I'm whole though. I have nothing to prepare myself for. No emergencies could ever possibly ruin my life. I am a god fly. Invincible to the touch. I am always in control."

History now, never to attempt to fly whole again.

"They won't be needing no fly wings where he's going!" - someone pondered nervously from a spiders web. No wonder he's so fat and sassy, he has eaten the fruit of his labors. His brain is smarter than yours, did you think of that even?! The shame of my failure is overwhelming.

Who remembers whose turn it was to play in the Canasta game before the ship struck the iceberg? Was it relevant in any way at all in relation to the ensuing perilous deconstruction of the sheer cream of the crop? The Zenith of human craftmanship to ever set sail, has become a nest of coral and a deep-sea diver's dream.

So that would in effect make the correct answer false.

Negative, nein, neit and NO. The unsinkable can and does sink. I wish that I would have known this yesterday.

I always do, when it is my own turn to repent. Its really a lot easier for me to pick on other people when I believe that I am perfect.

Anyhoo. So as the big-bang theory brazenly claims that an unknown explosion caused by an unknown and ultimately un-know-able Source (* I.E. Not possible for man to know utterly. Also a limitation of being human and terrestrial. Human comprehension is finite. The opposite is always true. The Supernatural's comprehension is infinite) created the entire Universe, myriads of vastness, the entire host of stars; who can number them even? Galaxies unexplored. Time, space and everything on earth etched precisely so. Accident? I think not.

As a Master Chef perfectly seasons His dishes, so is all the earth abundantly growing and flourishing.

A little girl, at any given point in time, is pretending to have her own baby and house. A little boy is pretending to build airplanes. A woman is always longing to be worthy. A man is ever pining for the company that only a family of his very own can provide, with his name on it. Not sure where they came from. Not certain where they are going.

And then I rolled along down the lane super-hard and fast. I was hittingallthe bumps. The brush was scraping the crap out of my overexposed skin (think road rash all over). You couldn't stop me from descending as I simply barreled past small to moderate cliffs. I had no Branch to hold onto. I just pummeled down the mountain.

This path was located on a very dangerous, but beautifully exquisite mountain that was naturally very pokey and abrasive to human skin and pride.

I can't quite remember which one hurt worse than the other or if there was equality within the excrutiation balance.

One would assume that I could recall this event a little more cohesively since it was only this morning that this freak occurrence had, well, occurred.

But I had walked that same path a hundred thousand mornings before. Every day. EVERY SINGLE DAY since my original birthday. So I was'nt expecting it.

It must have been a good 27 minutes (with Mississippi’s mind you; not those weaker baby food imitation seconds that speed on by like mere seconds...mere seconds being the least amount of seconds possible to still qualify as a measurement of time) before I was on the brink of death and had the brilliant idea and absolute expectation that I would soon be dropping dead.

It was a purely natural conclusion to a purely natural event. Death is completely natural. When you think about it., death can only happen to natural things. It has no dominion or authority over Supernatural beings.

Supremacy is not even (can you believe it?) allowed to ever die by the very principle which encompasses its existence. Nature itself. Mind boggling!

So anyhoo, my wind had been knocked out, unexpectedly of course. How can your breath possibly be taken from you if you are anticipating it to be stolen? You would guard yourself and fight back in the hope of victory over your enemy. Lesson learned.

My bones were crushed and pounded against the stony surfaces not meant for crunching through a mortal man like twigs. Yet they are very effective at this very thing, regardless.

I officially gave up trying to stop my body from free-falling down this unfamiliar, unforgiving, relentless Beast of earth that obviously was more man than I was.

I sheepishly cried "Uncle!" and surrendered what strength that I had left inside me to this Tyrannosaurus-Rex of a mountainside that would surely be my undoing.

I was as grass to a mower, bugs to a zapper; good as dead to anyone with a human brain or a Smartphone.

Then I was just plain lazy the last few miles I must admit. Spewing down a deserted path, lost and empty-handed. My body and life was dehydrated.

Minutes before I expired entirely, a sudden rush of thick rain clouds came over my whole horizon, straight out of the clear blue sky.

Instead of hurling large blocks of heavy ice, dust, and other heavy burdening and/or irritating material such as lice-nests and whole frog families, as I expected from such an evil day; a peaceful hope-like substance showered down all around me and I became new.

Behold: He Maketh All Things New, and that included me. Thank you Lord! The End.

Glinda Gail Bustamante