Christian Clarity Review

the big buff willer
who thought he was free
in the bang bang of life
heard The Ich Bin, The Je Suis

He wasn’t changed in that instant
but hardened by what he heard

Now he just says Me Too
in the same speech as the guards

but softly

and spells his derision of Jesus Christ:

G-d

while he protests to practice guard- speak
and says:

Ils! and Sie!

Proverbs 13:3 He that keepeth his mouth keepeth his life: but he that openeth wide his lips shall have destruction.

Exodus 23:2,3 Thou shalt not follow the multitude for evil; neither shalt thou answer in a cause, to go after the multitude to pervert judgment . Neither shalt thou favour a poor man in his cause.

In the Name of Jesus Christ, Amen

Of course.

Watch for him next as F.R.E.E. B.E.E.R.

excerpted from: Power Line: Strange Bedfellows

This morning’s Washington Times reports the astonishing–to me, anyway–news that last week’s massive pro-illegal immigrant demonstration in Los Angeles was organized by International A.N.S.W.E.R. We’ve written about International A.N.S.W.E.R. a number of times; for example, here. It is a Communist organization and a front for the Workers World Party. The Workers World Party has been around for quite a while. It is one of the last unapologetically Stalinist organizations in the world; it supported the Soviet invasion of Hungary in 1956. More recently, the WWP and ANSWER have supported dictators like Saddam Hussein and North Korea’s Kim Il Jong.

These same groups organized or participated in most of the major demonstrations against the Iraq war; the fact that Communist organizations were heavily involved in the antiwar movement was, for the most part, an unreported story.

The ‘protests’ were also sponsored/funded by the Ford foundation.

H.M.M.M.

Proverbs 10:29 The way of Jehovah is strength to the upright: but destruction shall be to the workers of iniquity.

In the Name of Jesus Christ, Amen

Anti-Christ is always claiming that God, ‘Jesus’ in particular, is merely a certain emotional etiquette (WWJD?) as if ‘free’ will were actually existing and specifically existing as only being able to be demonstrated/seen/understood (by God, who is supposedly the Doer and Enforcer of said etiquette in the middle of the free will lie..) by the emotional consequences of one’s personal actions on the other guy. God is supposedly checking Himself through all the little people by each one asking the other : “How does that make you feel?” –no matter what they do, while He ‘paradoxically’ simultaneously ‘preserves’ the ‘free’ will. Anti-Christ’s latest ‘proof’ of the etiquette that IS supposedly Jesus Himself and What Jesus Would Do in every circumstance in which the ‘free’ will MUST be ‘used’? The proof that each has asked his and her neighbor if any feelings have been trampled so as to supposedly grant permission to each other through the mouth of each to safely be God as part of that standardized etiquette?

There are so many. After all, it’s everything in his eyes.

1.

He wouldn’t criminalize ‘works of compassion’ towards illegal immigrants. He wouldn’t be ‘anti-immigrant’. After all, in his own lie, ‘we’ are ‘all’ immigrants. (In truth we are not all immigrants. Very many who live in the U.S. have ancestors through whom God created a country where there was none. They did not ‘immigrate’ to a ready made welfare system. God through them built a nation that is the envy of the rest of the world.)

Those ‘works of compassion’? Like? For instance? Medical help that takes up medical resources law abiding citizens would have better access to if the illegals were not there. Social Security resources as functional entitlements for persons who even now live in any foreign country and are not citizens of the Unites States. The Roman Catholic Church (but by no means alone) basically being an underground Railroad to pump illegals into the country and shelter them IN ORDER to hold them up as ‘deserving of compassion’ in order to be seen as out-doing the other guy in the Etiquette that supposedly makes men God and therefore making of the misery of others supposed ‘positive’ PR for the Roman Catholic Church; employers hiring illegals so as to undercut the minimum wage laws and not hire American workers (to include those of Hispanic ethnicity) –while ‘compassionately’ ignoring: the word Illegal in illegal immigrant; Cost of investigating, prosecuting the crime done by illegal immigrants as well as housing them in prison for the serious crimes; the sheer size of the Immigration portion of the gov’t ballooning to gargantuan proportions; security concerns of the morality of those who think nothing of illegally doing anything and who very plainly demonstrate they could care less what Jesus Christ did, is doing and in fact loath Him.

Anti-Christ’s mouthpiece at the Wall Street Journal:

excerpted fromOpinionJournal - The Western Front:

On one hot-button issue after another, however, Republicans are staking out “anti” positions this election year. The first to come up is immigration. With some 11 million illegal immigrants in this country already, the GOP is right to want to do something to get control of the border, normalize the immigrants who do come across to work, and clamp down on other illegal activity (drug smuggling, etc.) that comes with a large influx of people. The danger is that Republicans will cater to the part of the party that fears not illegal immigration per se, but a cultural change that will inevitably follow a wave of new immigrants (legal or not). Talk of building a wall, militarizing the border and criminalizing works of compassion that aid illegal immigrants will be summed up by voters this way: Republicans are anti-immigrant.

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The next opportunity to be ‘compassionate’ that the Republicans are supposedly flubbing and by so ‘doing’ violating that Emotional Etiquette and Economy that is supposedly ‘Jesus’ –and by so doing ‘proving’ they are ‘not one of us’?

2. Those Big Meanies are against gay adoption. Supposedly, sodomy and disease are ‘not abusive’ to children –and the Republicans just don’t get it.

Watch Wormtongue again trying to twist himself into a guardian and supposed example of the supposed Holy Etiquette as giving ‘advice’ as prognostication to the Republicans so they won’t offend potential voters:

An issue that played prominently in the 2004 presidential election was same-sex marriage. Republicans opposition was principled, the right thing to do and, as it turned out, popular. Ballot initiatives on the subject in several states, including Ohio, might have provided President Bush with his margin of victory.

However, now Republicans want to repeat the performance with a very different issue. Massachusetts’ Gov. Mitt Romney, among others, is leading a fight against gay adoption. The issue sprang up in the Bay State–where else?–earlier this year when the state decided to use an antidiscrimination law to force Catholic adoption services to place children with gay parents. Gov. Romney instantly recognized a freedom-of-religion issue and is pushing to exempt the Catholic church from the discrimination law. Fair enough. But the issue is catching on nationally, where it will play out as opposition to putting abused children into nonabusive homes. Nearly a dozen states may hold referendums this year on whether to ban gay adoption. And so far public opinion is against banning gay adoption by 2 to 1 even in culturally conservative Missouri.

For a very long time the Left has been very comfortable knowing that the people are deceived that ‘free’ will exists and that ‘it’ and the speech that speaks it are the only speech in total reality. Thus, they always have been confident in the lies that speak through them as seeming to both validate and emotionally-common-sense-out Leftism as What Jesus Would Do were He only on the spot; that it is a good thing the Leftist voter is holding on to Jesus’ spot until Jesus shows up in Person and the Etiquette of Leftism is exactly and invisibly Jesus. Anti-Christ thinks to say to the real Jesus Christ: “It is all well and good to know the truth. And you can be wise for yourself. But we’ve got them and you can’t have them.”

But it is plainly anti-Christ has always been the illegal immigrant no matter where he goes, no matter what emotions he takes with him as a visa. God just doesn’t care how that makes him feel.

God says to those who are truly deceived anti-Christ is a genuine emotional visa to heaven:

Deuteronomy 10:16-18 Circumcise then the foreskin of your heart, and stiffen your neck no more. For Jehovah your God is the God of gods, and the Lord of lords, the great *God, the mighty and the terrible, who regardeth not persons, nor taketh reward; who executeth the judgment of the fatherless and the widow, and loveth the stranger, to give him food and clothing.

But just like the modern victims of anti-Christ, they ‘went in search’ of some other stranger than their own neighbor; any other widow than the ones they already knew and any other Fatherless than their own. They were always going somewhere Else: in their heart; in their mind. It is little wonder they have of late ended up in Mexcio instead of next door; that prefer to hear a strange language than what plainly testifies to their face their duplicity in wickedness to all they have known.

Jdg 9:5-20 And he came to his father’s house, to Ophrah, and slew his brethren the sons of Jerubbaal, seventy persons upon one stone; but there remained Jotham the youngest son of Jerubbaal; for he had hid himself. And all the citizens of Shechem gathered together, and all the house of Millo, and went and made Abimelech king, by the memorial-oak that is in Shechem. And they told it to Jotham, and he went and stood on the top of mount Gerizim, and lifted up his voice, and cried, and said to them, Hearken to me, ye citizens of Shechem, that God may hearken to you. The trees once went forth to anoint a king over them; and they said to the olive-tree, Reign over us. And the olive-tree said to them, Should I leave my fatness, wherewith by me they honour God and man, and go to wave over the trees? And the trees said to the fig-tree, Come thou, reign over us. But the fig-tree said to them, Should I leave my sweetness, and my good fruit, and go to wave over the trees? Then said the trees to the vine, Come thou, reign over us. And the vine said to them, Should I leave my new wine, which cheers God and man, and go to wave over the trees? Then said all the trees to the thorn-bush, Come thou, reign over us. And the thorn-bush said to the trees, If in truth ye anoint me king over you, come, put confidence in my shadow; but if not, fire shall come out of the thorn-bush and devour the cedars of Lebanon. Now therefore, if ye have dealt truly and sincerely in that ye have made Abimelech king, and if ye have dealt well with Jerubbaal and his house, and if ye have done to him according to the deserving of his hands; –for my father fought for you, and endangered his life, and delivered you out of the hand of Midian; but ye are risen up against my father’s house this day, and have slain his sons, seventy men, upon one stone, and have made Abimelech, the son of his handmaid, king over the citizens of Shechem, because he is your brother; –if ye then have dealt truly and sincerely with Jerubbaal and with his house this day, rejoice ye in Abimelech, and let him also rejoice in you; but if not, let fire come out from Abimelech, and devour the citizens of Shechem and the house of Millo; and let fire come out from the citizens of Shechem and from the house of Millo, and devour Abimelech.

—————————-

For those who tell Jesus “You don’t how it is around here.”

Create something with an act of speech right now that will be unique to all that has come before and will maintain, as being alive, that uniqueness in the presence of all that will come after. Just say something and bring it into being in front of us.

Isaiah 41:21-24 Produce your cause, saith Jehovah; bring forward your arguments, saith the King of Jacob. Let them bring them forward, and declare to us what shall happen: shew the former things, what they are, that we may give attention to them, and know the end of them; –or let us hear things to come: declare the things that are to happen hereafter, that we may know that ye are gods; yea, do good, or do evil, that we may be astonished, and behold it together.

Can’t do that?

That’s how it is everywhere. It’s the common limitation of the native speech of all men.

.. except in Christ as new creation. That’s why there is only one gospel and not as many gospels as there are ‘emotional situations’.

Isaiah 41:24 Behold, ye are less than nothing, and your work is of nought; an abomination is he that chooseth you. …

Anti-Christ as free will lie can’t anything but seem to ‘choose’ and ‘choose’ and ‘choose’. The mere repetition of him as lies as non-creating speech only means he is real. And yet, he never creates anything at all and his victims are always trying to go somewhere else as they chase their supposed portion of the supposed one steak in total reality before the other guy or gal eats it up and it is gone. Be careful you don’t get trampled when his victims see that steak on your plate, seeing you were very careful to tell them you were just a holy person doing God as etiquette and that steak the proof you were the real thing.

John 10:34-39 Jesus answered them, Is it not written in your law, I said, Ye are gods? If he called *them* gods to whom the word of God came (and the scripture cannot be broken), do ye say of him whom the Father has sanctified and sent into the world, Thou blasphemest, because I said, I am Son of God? If I do not the works of my Father, believe me not; but if I do, even if ye believe not me, believe the works, that ye may know and believe that the Father is in me and I in him. They sought therefore again to take him; and he went away from out of their hand

—————————————

Some of you will be hearing this voice: “You say there is no free will. And if there isn’t, what is the point of you saying it? There is nothing we can do about it anyway –if that’s true!”

To which it is replied very plainly:

You can create nothing by your speech. All men are caught in that same speech: anti-Christ as non-creating speech. You cannot go to God in that speech and it is the only speech you have.

Therefore, God has come to you as Himself as Word of Godthrough me in that He genuinely dwells in me. Do not say, “God is always somewhere esle and Speaking to someone else other than me.”

Hebrews 12:18-25 For ye have not come to the mount that might be touched and was all on fire, and to obscurity, and darkness, and tempest, and trumpet’s sound, and voice of words; which they that heard, excusing themselves, declined the word being addressed to them any more: (for they were not able to bear what was enjoined: And if a beast should touch the mountain, it shall be stoned; and, so fearful was the sight, Moses said, I am exceedingly afraid and full of trembling;) but ye have come to mount Zion; and to the city of the living God, heavenly Jerusalem; and to myriads of angels, the universal gathering; and to the assembly of the firstborn who are registered in heaven; and to God, judge of all; and to the spirits of just men made perfect; and to Jesus, mediator of a new covenant; and to the blood of sprinkling, speaking better than Abel. See that ye refuse not him that speaks. For if those did not escape who had refused him who uttered the oracles on earth, much more we who turn away from him who does so from heaven:

God Speaks to you here and now and very plainly and in so doing gives you Himself as Speech and in the commands as creating you as new creation.

2 Corinthians 5:17,18 So if any one be in Christ, there is a new creation; the old things have passed away; behold all things have become new: and all things are of the God who has reconciled us to himself by Jesus Christ, and given to us the ministry of that reconciliation:

If you hear Him, you now live in a different Word than before and you could not have ‘moved from one to the other’ by yourself or as your former self –you have been born again. God now dwells in you as Word/Christ Jesus/Creating Speech in which there is always on-going creation and always enough where you are. Peoples will flock to you like to a country flowing with milk and honey. Give them the Word you have or they will devour you trying to be filled. They should have their own country that is enough. Iraqi’s get a nation for a demon of Islam and Mexico as worshippng demons suddenly doesn’t have borders? You better not, as God preventing it in you, let them tacitly worship you as if you were the only spring around.

1 Peter 1:23-25 being born again, not of corruptible seed, but of incorruptible, by the living and abiding word of God. Because all flesh is as grass, and all its glory as the flower of grass. The grass has withered and its flower has fallen; but the word of the Lord abides for eternity. But this is the word which in the glad tidings is preached to you.

James 1:17,18 Every good gift and every perfect gift comes down from above, from the Father of lights, with whom is no variation nor shadow of turning. According to his own will begat he us by the word of truth, that we should be a certain first-fruits of *his* creatures.

1 Corinthians 4:15 For if ye should have ten thousand instructors in Christ, yet not many fathers; for in Christ Jesus I have begotten you through the glad tidings.

To equate Jesus Christ with the anti-Christ as implying there is only non-creating speech in total reality is the only unforgivable sin:

John 6:63 It is the spirit that quickeneth; the flesh profiteth nothing: the words that I speak unto you, they are spirit, and they are life.

Matthew 12:30-34 He that is not with me is against me; and he that gathereth not with me scattereth abroad. Wherefore I say unto you, All manner of sin and blasphemy shall be forgiven unto men: but the blasphemy against the Holy Ghost shall not be forgiven unto men. And whosoever speaketh a word against the Son of man, it shall be forgiven him: but whosoever speaketh against the Holy Ghost, it shall not be forgiven him, neither in this world, neither in the world to come. Either make the tree good, and his fruit good; or else make the tree corrupt, and his fruit corrupt: for the tree is known by his fruit. O generation of vipers, how can ye, being evil, speak good things? for out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh.

——————

John 7:37-39 In the last day, that great day of the feast, Jesus stood and cried, saying, If any man thirst, let him come unto me, and drink. He that believeth on me, as the scripture hath said, out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water. (But this spake he of the Spirit, which they that believe on him should receive: for the Holy Ghost was not yet given; because that Jesus was not yet glorified.)

But Christ now having been glorifed and we having received the Spirit, look at the fruit of those who say they ‘have got Jesus’ and are ’saved’ and yet Have ‘free’ will ‘too’. You do not find that those who are in truth Christians can actually be mimicked by those who have anti-Christ as their ‘Jesus’; the fakes are still in search of something they have not obtained and have not heard.

John 8:42-49 Jesus said unto them, If God were your Father, ye would love me: for I proceeded forth and came from God; neither came I of myself, but he sent me. Why do ye not understand my speech? even because ye cannot hear my word. Ye are of your father the devil, and the lusts of your father ye will do. He was a murderer from the beginning, and abode not in the truth, because there is no truth in him. When he speaketh a lie, he speaketh of his own: for he is a liar, and the father of it. And because I tell you the truth, ye believe me not. Which of you convinceth me of sin? And if I say the truth, why do ye not believe me? He that is of God heareth God’s words: ye therefore hear them not, because ye are not of God. Then answered the Jews, and said unto him, Say we not well that thou art a Samaritan, and hast a devil? Jesus answered, I have not a devil; but I honour my Father, and ye do dishonour me.

In the Name of Jesus Christ, Amen

The blueberries are just coming in here in the panhandle. Blueberries—not gooseberries. Let the reader beware the difference. We had good rains this winter, even this spring, so it should be a good year for berries.

Nobody wants to pick the small berries—the ones with the real flavor. Not even me –and I know they taste good.

You go and see the bush and all you really do is gage two things: size and color. Blue with a little frosting—that’s good. Big is good. But small with a deep blue/black translucence to it—that’s best. It’s sweet with just a bit of tart to it. The best of berry pickers pick them all. The best pies have a mixture of all sizes and shapes.

There are teardrop shaped berries. Round berries. Squat, big-middle berries. Football shaped berries. They all get ripe at different times, even different berries on the same cluster on the same bush. So the season is spread from late April/May to July/early August.

Most people around here pick a certain amount generally known as enough–and never for cash: personal consumption. That amount is indicated by the size of the container. You take a quart jar, you get a quart. You take a ‘large bowl’, you get a large bowl of berries. Works for most people. Not Dad.

I’m at one bush, he’s at another. “How much have you got?” I mean—it’s hot. Rattlesnake season coincides with berry season as well. No kidding. I killed one last year longer than I am tall.

“Seven hundred and eighty nine.”

“How much is that?”

He knows other people’s units of measure, even as he counts in his own. “About a quart.”

But it is not as through you could keep track of how many berries in a quart. So I don’t really know how much longer we’re gonna be here. Different sizes—different shapes and different bushes—different amounts per quart.

I suppose as I pick that somewhere in heaven someone is writing down “Seven hundred and eighty nine blueberries almost makes a quart”—it’s the secret number that runs the crisis algorithm of the universe. God says: Seven eighty nine? Angel says: Check. Another age (dispensation actually, but we won’t go there) begins. It’s crucial not just that he pick the berries for personal consumption, but that he count them, I ask, he says in my hearing “seven hundred and eighty nine” and “almost a quart.”.Something clicks into place—the universe is saved. But not for long. Somewhere another crisis has developed: it’s not just the berries.

—————-

We go for a walk.

“How far do you think we’ve come?”

“..eight hundred ninety seven, ninety EIGHT, ninety NINE, NINE HUNDRED. Be quiet –it throws me off.”

Saved again. Mars spins on.

But the odd thing is he can be ordinary—if not cavalier on other numbers.

“You got any coke left?”

“A little.”

“Overdrawn again?”

“I don’t know what happened.”

——————-

It’s an odd thing. At the exact moment of crisis, he becomes entranced with the particular. Large asteroid headed towards earth—Dad starts counting. “That’s over two thousand.” We only hear about the asteroid later as it skips off the atmosphere.

“Two thousand what?”

“Peas. Zipper creams. That’s approximately four-fifths of a five gallon bucket of pods in which the pods are laid vertically in rows, not just all thrown in. Throw these hulls out for your mother.”

——————–

There’s one number that never changes in his mind. It’s the maximum number of persons that have been regular attenders at any church at which he has been the pastor: Fifty Five. Not the people on the rolls. The people who actually showed up.

His buddies from seminary? Hundreds. The guys on TV: thousands. Dad: fifty five.

He’s always viewed money, blueberries and such as a race. The more you have than zero the more distance between you and where you started and the faster you get away from what might catch you from behind. Know where you are. There is no such thing as too much or too fast.

But souls are a different arena altogether. The person in front of him is the speed limit. Even God only goes so fast so nothing flies apart.

I say he’s too nice. He beats around the bush. The big names are mostly in heresy anyway to get the numbers they do. Dad’s heard the arguments: mix a little heresy on purpose to draw the people and the then zap ‘em with the gospel when they get there. Funny thing. No zap. Crowds get bigger. Can’t zap ‘em now, the new building has to be paid for. If they actually told the truth, they would be back at the speed limit and wouldn’t be getting ahead. They’ve grown used to it now. There is Christian PR to be done in the overall culture. But the soul in front of you? Nice to meet you. Have you heard of our new members class? Otherwise you’re fired. Gotta have those people skills.

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Dad’s doing the speed limit in an old clunker car.

But he’s real. But it burns him sometimes. It makes him small in his own eyes, almost a failure. He knows he shouldn’t compare. But he does—until the next person in front of him. So the encounter is a strange mix of revelation and catastrophe-he-is-abruptly-getting-over-on-the-spot; smooth road and speech bump. He wants to say the thing that blesses you AND the thing to make you come back and come back and come back. Instead God says the truth and its catastrophe for us all; it is a rebuke. We don’t realize it’s a blessing until weeks and years afterward. The big numbers are a fly that buzzes him while he’s speaking. It’s the same with me. I think it’s the same with everybody.

If you tried to read him emotionally and you didn’t know Christ you’d go insane. When you meet him you’re a soul and his speed limit. God gives himself to you through my Dad. You can’t speed either—which can be its own catastrophe. The thing about the Anchor of the soul is that you don’t move. And the world is going by at the speed of light.

We’re on our way back from a church God’s starting. Today’s sermon was ‘I have received of the Lord.’ It was communion Sunday. It was just me and him and God. Mother wouldn’t go. After it gets going and there is a crowd she’ll waltz right in. “That’s my husband.” “I used to teach Bible studies.” She’s got words prepared already to make people stay at the speed of light. All she needs is a crowd. She used them today on herself and stayed home to watch the TV pastors as the camera swept over the crowd.

He slows down and looks at the gages on the dash. “See there?” he says. “Twenty seven point eight miles per gallon. Bet you can’t do that.”

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Psalm 37:16 The little that the righteous hath is better than the abundance of many wicked;

In the Name of Jesus Christ, Amen

He’s bending over the tractor as I drive up. “Come on over here and pick this up”, he says as I get out of the truck.

That’s Mr. Charlie–all business. No ‘good morning’, just straight to it.

I go over and pick up the back of the planter so he can fit the cotter pins that hold it in place.

“Now we got to go get some gas and go home and get my sixes.”

“What’s that?”

“My sixes! The plates that go in the planter. It lets a seed kernel of corn drop every six inches. We’re gonna plant them pretty close together today. Usually I use eights or nines. But not for this time of year.”

“Yes, sir.”

We drive out past an old tobacco barn growing up in weeds. He grimaces looking at it and says nothing. The wood is strong, but brown, grey with drought, stress. It’s my ideal of the color of patience. We go get gas, the plates; we’re back.

He walks over and checks the planter again; points to one of the hoppers.

“Can you get this one here open? I can’t get it to move, it’s a hard one.”

I reach over and pry the pin open. I’m back from the Army two years now and here to help him plant a few rows of corn today. He doesn’t need anything from me but muscle.

Mr. Charlie’s been planting corn for over seventy years with no irrigation and has lost only two crops. Today he wants to roll the dice one more time. It’s late August. One of the crops he lost was this year–it didn’t rain for three months straight.

“My fingers won’t do what I tell em’ to do anymore, after that doctor had my arm all constricted the way he did.” He works his fingers for the pleasure of it. “I tell you, I’m glad to get that cast off!” He looks the whole apparatus over and nods and rotates his hand and wrist. “That’s fine. I’ll drive over to the patch and we’ll fill’er up over there.” He climbs into the seat of the old tractor. A few tries and it’s purring. It sounds very …reliable.

I go for the truck, get in and see a way around the trees. I’m in a ‘73 Chevy beater truck with no reverse gear. I busted the reverse clutch in the transmission pulling out azalea stumps last year. His dust trail leads over the dirt road and we’re there before I have time to get hot.

“Yeah, ” he nods and says as if in reply to climbing off the tractor and leaning on the planter, “I’m glad we’re startin’ early. It’s supposed to get up to ninety something again today after some showers. I can’t stand that like I used to could.”

“You want the thirteen-thirteen-thirteen or the five-ten-ten first?” I ask.

“It don’t matter none. Just pour it on in the hopper there.” He pulls a small wrench out of his back pocket and tightens a fitting. “I’ll have to adjust this thing back here so it don’t let too much out. Otherwise the corn won’t come up. That thirteen-thirteen-thirteen will eat it up– burn it before it even breaks the …you know, surface.”

“So you want the five-ten-ten?”

“It don’t matter none.”

“Yes, sir.”

I bring a bag of fertilizer and dump it into the hopper. “That enough?” I ask.

He looks at it and says “We’ll start with that and see how we do. You got the seed?”

“Yes, sir.” I pull out a bag of seed corn and hand it to him.

“How much did you get?”

“Six pounds.”

“What is it?”

“Golden Queen.”

“Well, that’ll be alright. That’s really just a yellow ‘Silver Queen’. Couldn’t get any of that sixty day variety?”

“No sir. All they had at the co-op was ‘Silver Queen’ or ‘Golden Queen’. They said it would take more than two weeks to order anything else and that was if they could get it this time of year. I wanted to wait and see what I could get in Tallahassee. But Dad went ahead and bought it. I said if he was going to do it anyway we should get yellow corn. That’s my preference anyway.”

“How much was it?” he said, measuring out the corn into the two seed hoppers equally.

“We got a deal on it because he said it was so late in the year. It’s regularly seven dollars a pound. But we got it for five.”

“Well, that’s not bad.”

“No, sir.”

He gets on the tractor and squints toward the end of the row. Finally he pulls his hat down to shade his face and puts the tractor in gear, lowers the planter and he’s off. He goes slow, making sure he’s got his landmark still in sight but checking the rate of flow of the fertilizer and the corn occasionally.

He’s back. “Well, that’s four rows! Look at that. Can’t nobody say Charlie Walker can’t plow a straight row. But I think this thing back here needs adjustin’. I didn’t do anything but go down and back and look at all the fertilizer that’s gone.”

He steps down, pulls a larger wrench out from under the seat and adjusts the hopper. “Alright, let’s try it again!” He goes down and back again. “That’s just about perfect!” he says as he swings the tractor around for another run.

I nod and smile and he’s off again. After several more rounds he needs more fertilizer. “Don’t fill it up all the way. I don’t think we’ll need it and it’s hard to get out of the hopper once you put it in.” He climbs down and works his arm again.

“How many rows do you think we’ll end up with?” I ask.

“Twenty-four.” he says as if it were already done.

I start to put the empty bags in the back of the truck and he taps my shoulder and points at the end of the row. “You don’t never want to plant all the way to the end or out to the road. If you do the rainwater ‘ll just run right off. I been working this field for twenty-five years now; took it over when your granddaddy got tired of havin’ his calves shot ‘cause he wouldn’t let nobody hunt back in here.”

He takes off his hat and swipes his forehead with his arm. Squinting across the field, he says, “Now you look at this field. It’s as level as can be. When it rains all that water stays right here. I plow it one way one year and the other way another year and it don’t all get dragged to one side.” He turns me around by the shoulders. “Now look. Can you see ‘ol Summer’s field over there?”

I look past the line of trees and see the field next to ours. It hasn’t been plowed this year and is high in weeds.

“He plows the same direction every year. Ten years ago I told him he needed to go at it from another direction. He wouldn’t listen. Now one side of his field is a full eighteen inches higher than the other. Every time it rains he has to dig out his driveway again– keeps wonderin’ why.” He laughs to himself and gets back up on the tractor. He makes several more rounds.

“That’s twenty-four.” he says.

“Mr. Charlie, that’s more corn than all of us put together are gonna eat. Between the corn and the peas and squash, cucumbers and okra we’ve already got planted, we’ll have more than we can give away.”

“Nobody ever has more than they can give away. And this is gonna be the best corn we ever planted! The signs is in the heart today. Yesterday they wanted to plant but I said if you’d help me I’d rather plant today–yesterday’s signs was in the arms.” He stretches out his arms. His hands tremble slightly like a preacher, like Moses hands stretched out over the Red Sea. Then he smiles and drops his arms. “That’s O.K. for vining things like pumpkins and winter squash and such. But the heart sign is the best of all for corn and things that grow up and bushy. The weatherman said it wasn’t gonna rain so I waited.” The wind blows with the scent of rain over the field. “Well, I got some seed left over and some fertilizer. I’ll drive back under the shed yonder and we’ll unload.”

I follow him around and we unload and save what we didn’t use. I thought we were supposed to plant it until we ran out of seed. I don’t say anything as I store the remnants of the bag behind the seat in the truck.

“Well, ” he says, leaning on the truck before we go, “We did our part. Now it’s up to the Lord.”

They’re First Baptist. Free will all the way. Democrats. They have a role in life specially cut out for God after they have supposedly done what they wanted. I shrug. He frowns. In his system my shrug means I lack faith. He is an older man. “Yes, sir.”

I drive him home. He doesn’t see well enough to drive on the road any more. We pass our house on the way and he says after a small silence at the stop light, “How those bananas doin’ your daddy planted?”

“They’re doin O.K., I guess. He said I cut them back too low and they wouldn’t make any bananas this year. But I think they look fine.”

“Yeah, they’ll be alright. Those bananas, They’re used to hard livin’ –like those palm trees growin’ on the coast.”

“Yes, sir.”

The light changes just as I realize how cool it is now. The trees are beginning to whip back and forth. I gently press the pedal and we move on. The truck sputters. He grips the door harder as I push on the gas. In the side mirrors we see the rain coming up in a wall from behind us.

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Deutoronomy 32:9-18 For Jehovah’s portion is his people; Jacob the lot of his inheritance. He found him in a desert land, And in the waste, howling wilderness; He compassed him about, he watched over him, He preserved him as the apple of his eye. As the eagle stirreth up its nest, Hovereth over its young, Spreadeth out its wings, Taketh them, beareth them on its feathers, So Jehovah alone did lead him, And no strange *god was with him. He made him ride on the high places of the earth, And he ate the produce of the field; And he made him suck honey out of the crag, And oil out of the flinty rock; Cream of kine, and milk of sheep, With the fat of lambs, And rams of the breed of Bashan, and he-goats, With the fat of kidneys of wheat; And thou didst drink pure wine, the blood of the grape. Then Jeshurun grew fat, and kicked–Thou art waxen fat, Thou art grown thick, And thou art covered with fatness; –He gave up God who made him, And lightly esteemed the Rock of his salvation. They moved him to jealousy with strange gods, With abominations did they provoke him to anger. They sacrificed unto demons who are not God; To gods whom they knew not, To new ones, who came newly up, Whom your fathers revered not. Of the Rock that begot thee wast thou unmindful, And thou hast forgotten God who brought thee forth.

In the Name of Jesus Christ, Amen

Too big to get lost, the stone hangs so heavily around her neck that no matter how she moves it stays centered between her breasts. Her hair moves over her shoulders: one piece of silk. Her lips move when she talks. Her cheeks move when she smiles. Her eyes light up when she grins shyly and looks away. Her body moves a little to the music. But the jewel is always.. right there.

Faintly shining, it is dark blue on a rope of silver; a gold clasp through a small hole in the sides, the stone has become its own presence in the room.

Jimmy sees her and snaps his fingers with a smile. “Julie’s here.”

John stares at her, lowers his arms and wiggles his fingers at the scene before them like a boxer warming up for a fight. “Really? Where?”

Jimmy just laughs out loud and steps into the crowd. She hears his laugh and looks to the man standing next to her, suddenly admiring his tie.

When you see Julie, you don’t hear finger picked acoustic guitar with maybe a harmonica for innocence. Don’t get me wrong. She is her own kind of clean. But you hear old jazz, a kind of decadent, sophisticated music full of horns and drums. Hello. I knew a girl named Paula like that once. No matter where she is in the world I still do. Never even kissed her. Long story (only if you are young). She loved it—and hated it. I just hated it. I always hang out with the wrong kind of girl.

A guy like me—I’m more acoustic. A little too simple maybe. Even I think I’m stupid sometimes. Paula. I see what’s happening and just head to the bar.

Julie appears beside me. The music has picked up and everyone is dancing.

“Don’t look so shocked. I can’t help how I look.”

I smile and laugh a little at that. Yeah. Very heavy stone. Expensive.

“So what is it?”

“Oh. The stone?” She fingers it and holds it up so she can look at it.

“Aren’t you ever real?”

“It’s lapis L.”

“L?”

“I hate to say it because I’ve always seen it in print but I’ve never heard it pronounced. I hate being wrong. Lazoolee?”

I catch myself staring. And nodding. “Close enough. It’s a combination of the latin word ‘lapis’ which means stone and the Arabic word ‘azul’ which means blue. Mined mainly in Afghanistan. It looks good on you, whatever you call it. ” If I was a real authority on it and it was main attraction I would have pulled out a monocle, cradled it in my hand and twirled it in the light. But it’s just some info I picked up reading a magazine in the doctors office waiting for my mother. I’m a regular encyclopedia of trivia that spills out on the odd cues I never see coming.

“You ask questions you already know the answer to. I’d love to hear your prayers.”

I shrug and take a sip of my drink.

She doesn’t stop. “You want to get out of here?”

I look her in the eyes. She has that “I’m pleading but not really” look. Sometimes I think she is me in reverse. If I really thought she could be real for a minute, if I would get a real kiss and we could build something, (or at least get some good conversation) instead of a ‘hot’ kiss I would go. Hell, I’d run with her. But she just wants me to play against Jimmy and John and start some trouble.

We catch ourselves staring at each other and realize we don’t know how long we’ve been doing it. This is the third time we’ve come within a hair’s breadth of kissing and everything else. Before Paula I would have swallowed hard out of reflex. I pick up my drink and nod to the bartender. He comes over and asks her what she wants. She frowns and takes a deep breath as she sighs. The stone is a witness between us. She’s not mad, just frustrated. The only reason she comes back is because I haven’t fallen for it yet.

That’s how they get you on hold: Hoping for reality in the middle of all the background noise. She won’t speak to me at church. She just looks at me sometimes as she sits there; doesn’t answer when I speak to her. She says I’m more approachable in here.

She smoothes a stray hair back and pulls out the barstool next to mine. “I’m not leaving this time.” Her eyes play over my face. “Wine cooler.”

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Proverbs 7:10-12 And behold, there met him a woman in the attire of a harlot, and subtle of heart. She is clamorous and unmanageable; her feet abide not in her house: now without, now in the broadways, –and she lieth in wait at every corner.

In the Name of Jesus Christ, Amen