Thoughts on the Temple

For some reason, this morning while I sat and drank my coffee on the back porch before the rush of the day, I began thinking about temples. The word temple conjures up, for me, a holy place of worship. Today when acts of violence and hate break through the barriers of all that's holy and invade the sanctuary of someone's temple, it strikes even the somewhat callous of heart with a twinge or a shiver. It appears some don't view a place of worship as sacred. What's inside a temple means nothing to them, or worse yet, brings forth actions of hate and revenge. In the words of my old neighbor across the street on Live Oak Blvd., "That's not what God intended."

Stories about temples fill the Old Testament. King David longed to build a temple for God, but for several reasons you can read about on a rainy day, his son was given the honor of building God's house. The Old Testament seems very concrete to me. This is fragmented. I'll move on.

The New Testament began a new era. Curtains were torn; Christ's blood was shed; a remarkable resurrection took place. It was a time of enlightenment led by the "Son of God" and his followers. Many were skeptical, but obviously, the message was full of strength and longevity. After that, much of the talk moved from concrete to abstract. I think that's why we may have a hard time discussing freely and deeply all of the New Testament, and it appears, at least to me, that we pull many of our strongest arguments from the Old Testament. I Corinthians 3:16 states, "Don't you know that you  yourselves are God's temple and that God's Spirit lives in you?" Now that changes everything.

 I don't have answers. I'm just thinking about temples.

A Moment

The morning sun beat on the white concrete of the parking lot. Invisible moisture rose up from the ground to meet the sky, pulling out poofy skirts preparing for the afternoon rain dance. Jason made a Sportster into a trike in bay 1204, fulfilling a dying man's desire to ride in the wind again, while Travis pulled stubborn wires through new handlebars in the bay where I ran the vacuum in spider webbed corners, sucking up dust and grease and small bits of motorcycle shop.

I finished vacuuming and wrapped up the extension cord. A large box lay on the rubber mat at the front of the shop waiting to be broken down for the recycle can. I got out my razor knife and began chopping up cardboard. I picked up the pieces and headed outside. After pushing open the black lid and leaning it against the building, I shoved stiff paper into the can. The expression "sweating like a pig" perfectly described my state. The sun hit my back with burning intensity. I stopped, still in my tracks, feeling the sweat, the sun, the heat, life. It felt good, and I said thank-you.

"Be still and know that I am God." Psalms 46: 10

Funny Dreams

Last night I had a most unusual series of dreams. They have since faded from my  memory somewhat, but I still remember vividly some strange details. I was walking down the stairs, who knows how I got "up", of a rickety, church balcony. I think, I'm not sure why, it was the Methodist church. There were only a few people scattered in the dark, dusty auditorium. I was moving closer to the front, I assume, when I walked past a large, dark woman. Something about her caught my eye, so I stopped in my path to talk to her. She turned to look at me, and it was Oprah Winfrey. I said to her, "I'm glad to see you here. I just want to say how thankful I am for all the good you've done for so many,  including my family." I'm not sure exactly what she's done for my family, but in  my dream it sounded quite all right to say. I then picked up her hand and kissed it. She looked at me strangely and pulled her hand away. I said, "Oh, I didn't mean to frighten you. I just wanted to compliment you because you speak with authority." She relaxed and said, "I like that."

I moved down the stairs, I think to be closer to the stage for some kind  of choir event,  when I was suddenly no longer in the dusty, old church. I was in a very large bathroom with a tub and a big window. I looked out the window and saw a tornado coming directly towards us. I say "us" because my daddy was in the room with me, and I believe Mama was, too. I said to them we need to get into the bath tub, the tornado is coming. Daddy just wandered around the bathroom, and I couldn't relay to them my urgency. I don't remember anything after that. I'm not sure why I feel compelled to write out my dream, but it does seem to be somewhat entertaining, so I'll leave it at that. I could end with this, "May all your dreams come true." Whoever said that did not remember their dreams. I hope you have a most remarkable day!
Peace. Love, Linda