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Misplaced Diety Sought by Christians. 

Reposted from Crones Crossroads, this originally came from Ardy (Lady Ardeith)

So, I’m standing at a bus stop and they pull up. A car load of well meaning, bible thumping nut cases that are just frantic! The middle aged professionally dressed woman rushes forward…She takes my arm and with trembling voice she asks….”Have you found Jesus?” Her eyes plead with an urgency that is out of proportion to a bus stop. Now normally I just politely decline the sermon, and free religious paperwork that such folk pawn off on unsuspecting by-standers. But, unfortunately for her, she is the forth car to accost me in the last 9 minutes. So by now I’m beginning to wonder what the heck is wrong with these people. I mean if it’s not Christians it is the Jehovah’s Witnesses. Can a simple Druid get no peace?

So calmly as I can muster, without being sarcastic I reply, “You people lost him, again??” The woman looks confused. This is not the response she was hoping for and she needs to regroup. She takes a deep breath intending to launch into her sales pitch for her God, and church, paying no heed to the concept that I might not be into being converted. I decide to not let her get going so I launch into a speech of my own…

“What is wrong with you Christians? Every time I turn around you’ve lost Him!” I hit her with a glare of accusation. “I mean really…”I take a measured breath.   “How do you expect to have anyone follow a deity that you can’t even find!”

The poor woman looks stunned. This isn’t going so good. Panicked she looks desperately to the car…Surely one of the men can help….Undaunted I press on…”Maybe the problem is with you people…I mean Muslims never seem to loose there deity. Come to think of it neither do Jews, or Pagans of any kind.”

I look at the man getting out of the car. He’s all smiles. “I realize you people used to burn people like me at the stake…What was that about…? I may be a Pagan-heathen, but I have never ever woke up panicked that I couldn’t find my Goddess or God. They are always right where they should be… In the fire of my candle, in the air that I breathe, in the earth that I stand on, in the water of my spring. I never feel abandoned by my deity(ies).”

“Of course, you Christians aren’t much fun…”I continue. By now they are all out of the car. Befuddled, aghast, and at a loss for words. “Of course,” I offer, trying to give them some defense for losing Jesus. “He could have left due to religious differences. If I remember correctly He was Jewish. So if you are really so eager to find him…”I smile gently to soften the blow, “Check the nearest synagogue. He’s probably in there. Also you folks should try and remember that this is America…Where freedom of religion means ALL religions.”

Slowly they climb back into their car and drive away. I stand at the bus stop. No pamphlets, no bible, no dogma. I haven’t found Jesus, but I haven’t lost him either.

Someone sent this to you because they believe no one can have to much Deity. It is a blessing in disguise. You can keep it to yourself or pass it on. Oh, and if you’ve found Jesus, please get his face on the evening news A.S.A.P so the Christians can stop looking for him.

The Daffodil Principle

Several times my daughter had telephoned to say, “Mother, you must come to see the daffodils before they are over.” I wanted to go, but it was a two-hour drive from Laguna to Lake Arrowhead “I will come next Tuesday”, I promised a little reluctantly on her third call.Next Tuesday dawned cold and rainy. Still, I had promised, and reluctantly I drove there. When I finally walked into Carolyn’s house I was welcomed by the joyful sounds of happy children. I delightedly hugged and greeted my grandchildren

Forget the daffodils, Carolyn! The road is invisible in these clouds and fog, and there is nothing in the world except you and these children that I want to see badly enough to drive another inch!”

My daughter smiled calmly and said, “We drive in this all the time, Mother.” “Well, you won’t get me back on the road until it clears, and then I’m heading for home!” I assured her.

“But first we’re going to see the daffodils. It’s just a few blocks,” Carolyn said. “I’ll drive. I’m used to this.” “Carolyn,” I said sternly, “please turn around.” “It’s all right, Mother, I promise. You will never forgive yourself if you miss this experience.”

After about twenty minutes, we turned onto a small gravel road and I saw a small church. On the far side of the church, I saw a hand lettered sign with an arrow that read, “Daffodil Garden.” We got out of the car, each took a child’s hand, and I followed Carolyn down the path. Then, as we turned a corner, I looked up and gasped. Before me lay the most glorious sight.

It looked as though someone had taken a great vat of gold and poured it over the mountain peak and its surrounding slopes. The flowers were planted in majestic, swirling patterns, great ribbons and swaths of deep orange, creamy white, lemon yellow, salmon pink, and saffron and butter yellow. Each different-colored variety was planted in large groups so that it swirled and flowed like its own river with its own unique hue. There were five acres of flowers.

“Who did this?” I asked Carolyn. “Just one woman,” Carolyn answered. “She lives on the property. That’s her home.” Carolyn pointed to a well-kept A-frame house, small and modestly sitting in the midst of all that glory. We walked up to the house.

On the patio, we saw a poster. “Answers to the Questions I Know You Are Asking” was the headline. The first answer was a simple one. “50,000 bulbs,” it read. The second answer was, “One at a time, by one woman. Two hands, two feet, and one brain.” The third answer was, “Began in 1958.”

For me, that moment was a life-changing experience. I thought of this woman whom I had never met, who, more than forty years before, had begun, one bulb at a time, to bring her vision of beauty and joy to an obscure mountaintop.

Planting one bulb at a time, year after year, this unknown woman had forever changed the world in which she lived. One day at a time, she had created something of extraordinary magnificence, beauty, and inspiration. The principle her daffodil garden taught is one of the greatest principles of celebration.

That is, learning to move toward our goals and desires one step at a time–often just one baby-step at time–and learning to love the doing, learning to use the accumulation of time. When we multiply tiny pieces of time with small increments of daily effort, we too will find we can accomplish magnificent things. We can change the world …

“It makes me sad in a way,” I admitted to Carolyn. “What might I have accomplished if I had thought of a wonderful goal thirty-five or forty years ago and had worked away at it ‘one bulb at a time’ through all those years? Just think what I might have been able to achieve!”

My daughter summed up the message of the day in her usual direct way. “Start tomorrow,” she said.

She was right. It’s so pointless to think of the lost hours of yesterdays. The way to make learning a lesson of celebration instead of a cause for regret is to only ask, “How can I put this to use today?”

Use the Daffodil Principle. Stop waiting…

Until your car or home is paid off
Until you get a new car or home
Until your kids leave the house
Until you go back to school
Until you finish school
Until you clean the house
Until you organize the garage
Until you clean off your desk
Until you lose 10 lbs.
Until you gain 10 lbs.
Until you get married
Until you get a divorce
Until you have kids
Until the kids go to school
Until you retire
Until summer
Until spring
Until winter
Until fall
Until you die…

There is no better time than right now to be happy.

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