The First Living Room Sessions Event!

From the first moments when Freedom Rodriguez and Steve Snediker arrived, and began sharing their gifts, an atmosphere began that would carry through the night. As the others arrived, you could sense that the environment that had already begun was not only infectious, but something we all are inspired by, and need. What a pleasure it was to facilitate something that seemed like it was meant to be.

A couple of the members had readings that were excellent.

Dan Gowin wrote this:

Be In the Moment
I want to be in this moment.
Not the last one or next.
To live fully now.
To be fully alive!

Too many live in the future.
Or in the past.
And never experience the now.

We miss the beauty of life
If we always wait for the next.

The aliveness of a kiss
The electricity of a touch
The joy of a laugh
The energy of connecting.

Choose to live now.
Choose to really listen.
Choose to be absorbed.

Hear.
See.
Touch.
Smell.
Taste.

Serve with all you have
With what you have.
Don’t wait for more.
You have what you need to do what you are supposed to do right now.

Choose to connect.
Really connect.
Look in his eyes.
Listen to what she is really saying.
Hear what they need.

Be in the Moment.

Jim Berger brought these two:

Creativity Is Like Water
True creativity is very much like water.
It bubbles up from deep down.
It springs forth.
It flows and it ebbs.
It rains down.
It can run together gathering size and strength.
It can be forceful.
And it can be limited and sometimes stopped.
It can be hard to find. Almost impossible to find.
And when it is absent life can become an emotional desert, the soul a barren and harsh place to be.
Many an artist has gone nearly insane trying to find it when it abandoned them.

It can be small and simple like a raindrop.
It can be quiet and thoughtful like a reflecting pool.
It can be playful like a stream.
It can bounce along like a river.
Or be buried and require mighty feats to unlock it.
Sometimes it can flash with the force of a geyser.
Or tumble down with the majesty of a waterfall.
It can seem as vast and limitless as an ocean.
Or as deep as a well.

Creativity can be muddied with improper motives and dirtied with sinful content.
It can be hoarded and go stale.
It can grow bitter with hatred.
It can become unsuitable for use through mishandling or neglect.
But it can be purified in the right hands.
And it can wash, and cleanse and soothe and cool and rejuvenate.

It is impossible to manufacture.
The result would be an empty synthetic substitute that does not satisfy.

The only source that can be trusted to produce pure creativity without question is simple.
It comes from above.

True pure and undefiled creativity draws attention and honor to the source.
Creativity is meant to celebrate the Creator.

So tonight, lets us fill one another’s emotional cups to the brim with creativity.
Let us raise them high in a toast to the Almighty.
Let us drink deeply and taste of the divine nature.
And let us in the end go away refreshed.

For true creativity…
Is like water.

It gives life.

The Crossing
I stand looking across the abyss that my disobedience created.

In a massive room where the ceiling seems as high the sky itself, I gaze to the other side and see my master. A giant of a man he dwarfs all who come into his presence. Yet here, in this setting, even he seems small and distant.

He is like no other. The greatest of all I have encountered. There is nothing in this life I crave more than his pleasure. Not a thing can stir my soul like a simple smile on his face and his gentle voice telling me I have done well.

Yet I fail him. In small fits of selfish insanity I choose my way over his. In foolishness I ignore his commands and requests. I place my desires over his. And in doing so, I open an expanse between. I sever the ties that bind us. Our fellowship is broken. And a gulf stands between us.

I know the cure. My master is a loving and forgiving person. He treats his servants as a caring father would his children. He has told me never to hesitate to tell him of my shortcomings. He knows them already. If I but admit my guilt he is ready to restore my position.

But I hesitate. I linger. I wallow in my self-imposed exile. Deep inside my soul smalls battles rage between squadrons of my self-loathing, my doubt and my pride. It leaves me trapped in my agony to die a slow death.

Only when my heart can take no more do I decide to act.

I gather my resolve and in an act of sheer will I take a step toward the one I want to please.
And in the distance I see him take one toward me.
I slowly take another. He mirrors the action.
I take another and another and another. He echoes each one.
Then in a torrent of emotion I run toward him.

A short breathe of heartbeats later the universe echoes with the colossal collision of our reconciliation as he buries me in a massive embrace. Life is good again.

It is at that moment, like so many before that I make an observation I wish I would be quicker to remember. I have not moved that far. Make no mistake, the distance was real. And it is gone.

But like a million times before I have underestimated my master. He is a giant of a man. Like his love for me, his strides have out matched my own a hundred times over. His efforts make mine pale.

I pray I learn at last to respond more quickly when I fail. To make the small steps that will bring his massive ones. To learn that there need never be much time lost in sweet communion due my failures. For he can overcome them all.

James 4:8 Come near to God and he will come near to you. 10 Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will lift you up.