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Jaime Saus

If there is one thing I would hang on my wall in the new year, it would be that calendar that said I spent a Sunday in the church pew.


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Jaime Saus

What shall we say: if by virtue of our weakness others have gained ground - do I boast in my weakness; it is not mine to boast without election if on that ground Christ died and took the sting from death. For those of us who have sold wholly into the grace that Christ’s redemption has brought for us, if there is no resurrection, if our preaching has been in vain and has gone without charge, are we left to press upon a hope of living in this world’s conceit.? Save the authority in God’s begotten son, there would be no Prince of Peace and the promises held over our salvation forsaken in  an annulment of the covenant.

 
Jaime Saus

“I stand in prayer and would like to make it long, but hear the crying of a child.”

-Muhammad

 

I’m outside the gates drying my wit on an academia of gnosticism, just short of fending objections in the spirit; keys rankle, and somewhere from out of the shadows an apparition. In the wave of a hand the very real subsides. I’ve abated in meditation and stirring in contemplation, and in availing the senses. 

 

Whilst debating the motion of the waters and its artesian spirit I hear over a reverent whistle a pitch in song. Some awaiting their justice rankled out in choirs from a building within a brick facade. Come dusk and the din of a soul fallen from its arches steeped in the weir by the wick of a fortnight. An unlucky soul might have possessed his/her fate.

 

The clouds are a cornucopia of transient chaos. The flag is folded, and by the nightfall, a waning light weighs in upon the seed of a new day. I take foot, and in going forth, set about a court of roosts in precipitous maunders that fit in at the edges of the scenery to complete the cityscape. A nestling of one sort or another gives love par sum. 

 

A child had left a fleece out over the weekend (Judges 6:36-40). In a noteworthy remark to place the lens of interest upon the littlest things we do, and the delicate impressions we make, the differences between ourselves when we’re the observer and the one on the outside are as broad as night from day.

 

Jesus was asking me to think of those outside my periphery whom I could not contain in any riddle, those in need here and now. I found myself suddenly flagging in prayer for the myriad to whom the palatial landscape is undisclosed.

 

“Whom I sustain on a divan of illness, upon his bed I will give him surety.” 

 

- Ps. 41:3

 

I passed a few evenings with tremulous feelings for a viral strain that had become ubiquitous. I was listening to the bragging voice of a step-sibling who was lauding herself over and above her peers for taking healthy caution and the nefarious contagion. I reasoned it was only right that she might applaud herself so on others bedsides. However fantastic she couldn’t contain the effigy of charisma. In any event, she assumed a taunt aimed at the avail and struck the wound chiming, “You said there was a good thief. How ‘bout if I take it from you.” An angel spoke from a tree the kind and size of a mustard growth giving admonition by divine authority for the soul in question and pronounced in fiery tones,  “Obey!” She showed her what her punishment would  be like in Hades, the dilemma merited in the shades of Hell for believing in predestination.

 

There was a relation I had been thinking of and those besides who were in his “Greatest Generation.” The littlest blot of ink can run a train of witnesses for us in the Book of Life. I had taken a bit of ink spattered to be a mote, yet the evidence withstood of the closure given bade in heaven. 

 

“Count your blessings at the breaking bowl and you may earn your craw. The batten in layers, the basket full, what good ardor!”

 

I hear the Angel is coming around for a visit this Easter. So how is it this bouncing bunny of fun is part of the scenery? The more I study my irreverent figure the more I think he is my missing guardian. I hear the town crier at every hit and miss event. He’s familiar with everyone at the banquet. However he comes by it, and without any missives, the first impression courts the rule. He has the appearance of someone that is without effort in directing the cosmos. I reach deep down for wisdom, and to quote the sage, reevaluate the enigmas. All intentions aside for any greater concern, without him I’m really missing the moment at every beat, day by day.

 

Tell me if this seems to mean anything. I was returned safely from the Mexican border through the loving hands of those who cared for me after waking in amnesia from a coma. I felt it then, and now too. A kindred spirit of a prodigal nature for this “good son” of whom I send this in regards.  And it looks like he’s coming around daily. Or at least every Sunday. He has the appearance of a safety net with the friends he has made. I want to say that every day things are getting better, but he’s in a climate of not receiving any attention and I’m still not certain if he has a unique case that deserves more polarization and objectivity than a few contacts in the community can offer.

 

I try to keep this at the head of the list in my prayers. I know how reorganization in someone’s life station can only find true sustenance in divine providence. Thinking in a litmus of the serenity prayer, we’re told truth lies in the apparent figure. If God  found it necessary to put him to this much trouble for him to overcome and gave him so many obstacles, how much more the necessity of the much needed community wealth in the treasures of reconciliation.

 

Maybe instead of these cases of mistaken identity we face when only inimical of ourselves we can find a higher power and a guiding light to adjust the standard of our principles. I try to remember that, to rock the boat, it matters most if in their earthly life if they find the face of Christ through the seed in dormition before it brings new tides.

 

“What does this vacuity merit if it is a virtue in the making, but enough about amusing a virtue in its guise.”

 

*Note: this might sound condemning, but listen in. It's about manna and mammon and the choice of serving free will.

 

Let me tell you about the salt of our flock, concerning the apparition of Antioch (an appearance of Jesus). I had been helping a woman who was lost in dysphoria, whose every fear came to life before her eyes. The issue of coping was put aside all the while I was with her, for a little helper was at her side the whole time. I told her that when Jesus went to Egypt fleeing Herod’s persecution there were times not a crust of bread was at hand to satisfy the child’s hunger. Perhaps just some offering as such would drop from the sky? The levity, however doesn’t make an impact in the moment without the dilemma in admission. She left an impression on my superiors of someone that needed more than our congregation could offer. The landscape the helpers in the program navigated was undercut by monetary woes, and in an unforgiving unanimity we disengaged from the assistance program.

 

A salt pillar came to life in a statue to prophesy over this. She was someone who could recite biblical literature, and was able to gain spiritual guides. She even invoked our divine assistance in the name of the trinity. She went to bed every night and woke up from her prayers in our fold. When she went about she left a grace of her touch behind, so that all the helpers would be sure to show up at her most desperate hour. She was in a frightening way with the Antioch, it seemed. He was crying at the top of his lungs every time he gave her farewell, always in her company. Most people (not the Antioch) would dismiss the welfare of people we serve who are not wholly productive in themselves without the face of reality in a personal encounter.

 

I call to mind how many times the prophets stood to decry the salt of the earth, “We stand before the Lord damned and condemned.” In this case, Jesus was there for us, and a little fighter whose plight we passed over.

 

“Creation is a modest thing: to tie a bow on one's achievements should suffice for the ageless.”

 

By and by, those whose lives we cross at Peter’s gates are found on the other side of the equation as the exception whose satisfaction comes unmet at no expense to clergy. The talent of an illusive visions that is hobbled at the bar tides all is well whither in avocation of the pandit or whether angels hold vapid ail in vine ripened arguments over stolen bread, cake, and graded briar tea. Wherein our tenure has thee simple rigor o'er those doefull in adroit cupidity, “put your hand through a hole in the wall and you may be bitten.” (Ecc. 10: 8) 

 

“Love” places happiness as an exhilarating meme reared in a spate dimensionality of untouched virtue such as our father had for his as universal patron of the church in the living noble and kind spirit of eschatological concession. I take your service in the cloth seriously. By the garments they choose the clergy profess a courage over the community's giving spirit, and through thanksgiving in the heart and by charity or alms, the charisma for whom we have patience to serve lies in an unending forbearance of charity that places one at the table.

 

 

JPEG. Picture

 

 

Saint Veronica was put forth to go forth at the way of the cross to obtain esteem of the church in a cloth which doused the Anointed.

 

“The dutiful hawk returns to its owner, but what plumage on the gown of the peacock. See him but once and he is your master.”

 

Someone who was a champion athlete visited me while in the hospital for a surgical procedure. She was in a sponsorship and a goodwill advocate. I have little in my possession to retain in this memory, but a dream came to me to speak from my frightening, phobic childhood.

 

I was plying the crown on Jesus’s head as a childish fascination. He struggled with this on the cross: that those who remember him from their earliest days might seek to lift the burden of his kingship. Those would be the little memes that intend to tell him while he is on the cross that his father explains in Adam’s transgression. 

 

I’m glad I got that out. Satan is someone who thinks he can rest his crown on a dais of indecision. Before the word there was an unformed void in creation, right? Then the Lord spake, “Fiat lux, let there be light!” Satan and his legions have been led (by the fallen one) to presume usurpation in Christ’s victory over death. How naive. To abandon the host is church for giving oneself to shame in the enemy's hands.

 

I suggest that when you “run the race,” as St. Paul encourages us, you put on a helmet and visor and remember that horses have blinders, because everyone watching you wants the victory, and in the trade off it's their empathy that lifts you up. It’s a paid event (not lasses faire), so you know who the cheaters are. Of course, what one takes home with themselves from any such event is a note in consideration of Auld Lang Syne.

 

"Wouldn't you know it that all the time I was in my father's house?"

 

It seems we all have our tasks, those performed tertium quid rule the book. (There’s always a bargain outside the rule.) 

 

Taking draught, or dryness about ourselves lends reciprocal to the cause for our helpers, those in whom the big questions have answer. We are as Mary was in the early morning when she sought her beloved Son, navigating uncertainty, in the dark. He had found himself a niche in the political scenery, the temple, where the promise of a quotient outside the box crowns the king.

 

If I hear little voices regale in the pews it is in the gift of Christ at the bosom that keeps one open and conscientious of the thanksgiving when one of Theresa’s “little flowers” is strewing its tines. The harvest will scatter new life, the vale of the resting place separated by waters, above from below, the whole of the night from the day, the whole of the day pressing on. In preternatural tenure over the earth, who is to keep us from gathering when we come to celebrate our victory song?

 

Is a little devil telling me I’m impious when I overwrite reflections on others' necessity of erecting barriers? If there is anything unusual in the divisiveness about us, it is a light of faith that offers an organizational look at the walls giving sound support and providing refuge, and the beams they hold erected as pillars of the foundations they stand on themselves. I know one thing for sure, in the confines of a well built, planned schematic, our model of choice has been given enough virtue to establish a sense of comfort in our surroundings.

 

“It's a mournful engagement, in blazes, and one forsaken to bide thine wee as by the blessed bode.”

 

Father Time stood at the lintel. I approached in a gait and demeanor full of cock, a sentiment somewhat missive considering the hour at bay. “Did you know your Father before you met your fate? Did you know your Father before Time?” The children in my hometown school were ageless in aplomb for chance, mystery, and the endless occasion of engaging in fife speculation. 

 

“You ply your life from the spindle in a good trade, and your reward in a vocation gives back if you survive the fasting. How wealth comes home might be a lesson for you to learn.” The social studies teacher was giving us the usual sort of barf bag. I leaned over my classmate’s hoover zone, popping a Bubblicious chew of bubble gum. One of the two of us would get it. That’s how you make friends. “Any unique confessions spill over in the detention compartment.” Well, she fenced me off. There will always be those 'Somebody Loves You' moments at home like the Chick publication reads.

 

When I visited the school I was interested in for attending college, I saw an elk jump the traffic barrier and dodge a car or two headlong into the statistics column. An act of God. Some day I would grow up to be a statistic. Which Freudian pink slip would I see in the void in pursuit of higher education?

 

“I’ve been playing in the garden for half an hour!” How to get a neighbor kid to do your dirty work for you: “I used to pick up the apples. Now nobody likes me because I quit.” I thought that might sink in with a pantomime of exasperation. Even from the generation gap that would posses a kid.

 

“Did you pronounce that all by yourself?” They were asking me if I could say my name in so many words. Not Spanish, not Spinglish, not English, anything. They got, “Je me suis ça serait si rester,” it yo-yo’d around like soy in a vegan egg tray until the baby doll popped its eyes open again. Guess who my father was. “Benetisimo.” "Can you say that again? That name. How do you spell it?"

 

“Cast your bread upon the waters, wait for it all your years, and it will return as surplus in proportion.”

 

Ecc. 11:1

 

Walking into the vestibule to attend the liturgy, it is enough to calendar reservations. Those venial, unconfessed moments deserving a lens through the community eye. Duplicity is barred at the entrance. I go through a systematic inquiry to retire my conscience. It takes the whole hour to come home with pin pricks and salted trouble sores that I lay with my cares upon the pillow. One of them will point staff at mast by dewfall.

 

 

“Do not be afraid when asked to vouchsafe your plea, for my spirit is with you.” 

 

Barabbas at Trial

I thank you, Lord, for the simple pleasures you have given us, how our common resources well up like water in a pool when stretched out to form a stay and the panorama is found in the immediate surroundings. It validates the landscape in every quiescent virtue when it comes to account for what is on the table. The Syrophonecian woman who was feeding her children among dogs had a double take when Jesus gave her the forgiveness that unequivocally separates us from the pack. So many people are destitute without David’s messianic successor that go by free will in any given temptation.

 

The King of Kings

When at the cross Jesus sighed his last, his epitaph was etched in a roman acronym. Jesus the Nazarean, King of the Jews was carefully laid to rest, given haste, as the custom of burial at the time left something to express. A centurion who had acclaimed God and man in the brutality of the incident revisits the academia. Solomon’s decision to give the claim of motherhood to whomever would deny the child, as well (two women disputed a case of whose child a newborn was), tells us that who won’t listen to the good news goes the wayside.

 

A Stone Rolled Away

So much credence has been placed in the notion that money can answer all our cares that it puts one aside. The very whit tells me I should inhabit the cares of those who have not so much to go on. A clear vision of our basic needs merits a standard of focalization on the issue of scarcity. You can give wind on a prayer. If you’re winging it, maybe an angel can help. We’re not all there, but as in the case of a donor there is always someone to rely on to comprise the wholistic figure. Ask doubting Thomas.

 

The Cross

Do you know what it took to relieve the blame in Israel? The bronze serpent raised on a pole in Sinai. What the insignia looks like in heraldry is a snake wrapped around a staff. Anyone? Artists have their crafty way of depicting the events that surround us in a magical sense. Symbology is full of it. Don’t tell me it’s my demon, God intends to explain the unknown. Put your thinking cap on and starve it out. Fish on Fridays.

 
Jaime Saus

“I stand in prayer and would like to make it long, but hear the crying of a child.”

-Muhammad

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Two or three children were walking home from school on a dirt paved road. A dog was barking from behind a chain link fence. Picking up a stone, the child nearest me shrieked and took flight. In the confused melee I bumped into him, pleading for him to desist. I took the stone from his hand, it dropped with a thud, and he yelled, “what..?” The stone turned out to be a piece of bun. A neighbor appeared from behind the fence calling the dog, and as I turned my back they ran away.

Some who were awaiting their justice rankled out in choirs from a building within a brick facade. Come dusk and the din of a soul fallen from its arches steeped in the weir by the wicking of a fortnight. An unlucky soul might have possessed his/her fate.

A child had left a fleece out over the weekend (Judges 6:36-40). It caught my noteworthy sense of prudence to place a remark upon the the littlest of interest in the things we do, and the delicate impressions we make, like petals pressing in the wheel for the greater ardour dropped from a press and falling in an air of pungency.

 

 
Jaime Saus

Maybe you want to know where all the magic went. Back in the day all the good things kept the score and you knew what time it was. But weren't those good things just the same ugly that put you down when you got caught?

 
Jaime Saus

The thing about what you've left behind before doing time, you had that tight in your fist, and you let it go. Show some grief for the repercussions and losses you've had.

 
Jaime Saus

Bad news first: You might have offended the justice.
And the good news: you all have a chance to make amend and recover good graces.

 

 

 
Jaime Saus

Some people say the best way to choose true friendships from aquaintenances among yourselves  is to ask if they will be there when all the world offers is the suffering task that is like the straw breaks the camel's back.

 
Jaime Saus

What can it do to face the consequences when the sense of values you levy unalterably stand to provide your integrity.

 
Jaime Saus

You think you left a catastrophe behind when you regain your ethics. It's disclosure that can put you in the pink, but are you second guessing to know the cost of incarceration?

 
Jaime Saus

Wise man says: a perspective on one's own innocence reveals the superior self and true character to others.

 
Jaime Saus

In the conditions and surrounding of a supportive environment you don't have to rely on a sympathetic voice to assuage the angst you may possess if you've done your homework and taken care of a few things yourself. You know what I'm talking about if you carry a sense of the simple values that walk the walk and talk the talk.

 
Jaime Saus

Only so much is asked of an act of charity in that the thanks given in return is appropriated in kind. What I mean by that is the rapport you receive in kindness spreads the love.

 
Jaime Saus

The system works! Someone is picking up the slack to help you in a greater effort, and they are thankful for the smallest iota in the gift you have to share.

 
Jaime Saus

Too often I find myself taking responsibility for the unresolved issues that arrive on a daily basis. As time goes by, these things take care of themselves with or without my attention. The question I'm holding out for others begs for attention, "Did I do the right thing?"

 
Jaime Saus

Any inadmissibles left behind you untended to are for your gain. In those spare moments of "me" time, try to find yourself alone in reconsideration of where the losses place you, knowing you are the one most responsible for the benefit you receive.

 
Jaime Saus

For the discipline you show in the sharing of time to consider that fault you might have, howsoever you may be able to place a finger on it, you're not alone and without empathy.

 

 

 
Jaime Saus

Take a breather from the monotony in your environment to get a general sense of your surroundings and the few freedoms you still possess.

 
Jaime Saus

When it's time to socialize, the kindness and honesty you share will come back in reciprocal for the tact you show.

 
Jaime Saus

Remember at the end of the day if someone did something nice for you that could happen to anyone at any place or anytime, that's an occasion you just can't take for granted.

 
Jaime Saus

You find yourself making the adaptation to a new environment, and applying skills that help you keep making positive choices, and you will likely keep your reputation.

 
Jaime Saus

There's always a wisdom and it comes with age that the people around you facing the same trials and hardship are lost in the hatred and without a voice when the losers gain in the greater toll upon society.

 
Jaime Saus

Some of those thoughts that put you out, that come with the despairing notion that you can't connect the dots are notes of despair only a survivor can overcome.

 
Jaime Saus

When you're ready, the support you needed will be there, and that is something you can rely on if this is your time.

 
Jaime Saus

Whatever did it, what put you there is an idealism you can't bargain with for the good things in life. So give yourself a break and try a fresh perspective.

 
Jaime Saus

You need a fresh perspective to clear the cobwebs out and tune in to the quality of life. The attitude you possess can reflect on your betterment. Any chance in the time you spend while you're "in" to adjust your mentality will provide improvement.

 
Francelira

Holi.

 
Jaime Saus

I thought when I was young as an idealist would, but now I've retired my ambitions. The losses I've taken have every momentum in the grace that comes with age.

 
Jaime Saus

Half the battle puts you there. Be more careful of your objectives if your goal is to be certain.

 
Jaime Saus

Try to overeat when you're doing yourself a favor, and it's the same futility as before.

 
Jaime Saus

Try to overeat when you're doing yourself a favor, and it's the same futility as before.

 
Jaime Saus

If it was pathological what put you there don't fall into the same temptations over and over.

 
Jaime Saus

Somebody let me know today what it is that causes them the most painstaking in examination of conscience.

 
Jaime Saus

Have you thought about the possibilities if it's in your forte to put it into words what it is you wanted to say?

 
Jaime Saus

There's always that goodness in somebody who remembers the better qualities you possess in a friendship.

 
Jaime Saus

If I have anything provincially to retire with, it's on my mind to make it to the footfall of the next day

 
Jaime Saus

One good thing I have found in being held responsible for our choices is that we may find in the alternative to our error the right way to succeed.

 
Jaime Saus

Did you ever think the new beginnings you might have made were the opportunities you passed on that made a negative impact?

 

 
Jaime Saus

You're still on target if you have anyone with whom you can call on for a casual acquaintance and have a positive impact.

 
Jaime Saus

When choosing to decide your fate, remember those who chose the right course to get you there.

 
Jaime Saus

The broad way is plain to see. When in the straights of uncertainty, there are those who have come along    before to show the simple how they may engage the most difficult terrain.

 

 
Jaime Saus

A pilgrim's progress is a sure thing, but the steps we take and the decisions we make define whose outcome is a certain success.

 

 

 
Jaime Saus

Too much time is spent on worrying over the obstacles that stand in the way to challenge the improvement you might make through better intentions.

 
Jaime Saus

If I could change one thing and do it all over again, I would make sure money wasn't the only thing on my mind.