The last couple of posts are what might be the beginning of a story.
Here are a few of the laws observed by the hidden ones:
You will have to forgive me if I don't yet know them all, for I am still a student. I do not even know how many of us there are that observe them, but it appears to be few, for I have only met a handful who were on the path to the new life and who believed that there is a new world coming. And each of us appears to be learning from those just on the other side of everything. We are not led by books or teachers. We are lead by those not seen.
The time allotted by the gods had passed, though few knew. Most still pretended to believe that they could save the world, for it paid well. And pretense had been made popular. Indeed. And failure to support the administration was punishable by public distain.
Long ago the establishment had abandoned most civil forms of law enforcement. And the jurisprudence of the age was the latest propaganda, the latest mandate. There was little need of formal law enforcement. Each citizen was officer, judge and executioner. At first, they had to bribe the people heavily for compliance, but in a short time, they could be persuaded to follow by the mere threat of relinquishing convenience.
And, of course, the people hated it. And few really believed. And they hated themselves even more for not knowing what to do about it. But it was the true among them whom they really hated. And non-compliance was met with the most violent suppression, not by the authorities, but by the people. And so you might say that the people governed themselves by a kind of mobocracy.
And it was in the midst of this that the hiding place was first discovered. The hiding place was not an actual place, but a way of being, a set of laws, which if obeyed, protected and even hid those who lived by them.
The clouds have again covered up the sun,
And everything I write
Or want to write
Appears to be trash.
But I am here.
God help me!
And God help you.
There are times when I wonder who I am, what I am. Do you?
The Ojibwe call God the Great Mystery.
And He is.
And so are we,
Especially if he's done a work in us.
And it becomes hard to tell where our faults end and He begins.
And isn't that a mystery?
I would have expected to find Him in my strength
And in all the things I longed to be for Him.
But He was not there.
I've found Him in the weakness that I try to avoid.
And I wonder, "is this the thing that He was after?"
I am convinced more and more that it is.
And isn't that mysterious? Surely.
And it makes me wonder what great mysteries await the world
When the towers fall,
And we discover
That at the end of all our strength is weakness.
Perhaps, though we didn't realize it,
That is what we wanted all along.