Hotel High Dive

  

You are staying at 5-star hotel with a room that is located some hundred or more stories above ground. While gazing out from your view, you take notice of a large in-ground swimming pool some hundred or more stories below.
Your room also provides access to a walkway which leads to the rooftop where one can stand over the edge. You look straight down and can see the swimming pool. This lookout is only protected by a 3 foot metal pipe fence (painted gray) that is so low that it would be very easy to simply trip over and fall to one's death. And there's a tragic history behind this lookout. Some kid once had the bright idea of diving off the hundred story lookout, only to dive to his death because the pool lacked sufficient depth, and the impact crushed his bones.
To illustrate this and maybe get a feel for what the kid was thinking, maybe you could support your phone upright and video yourself pretending to jump off the edge and dive into the pool. You even rehearse this a couple of times and realize just how dangerous this seemingly harmless stunt would actually be.
“Nah, I changed my mind. It's not a good idea.” you tell an imaginary person.
“Oh, come on! What are you chicken?”
“Today I am...”
This imaginary person vanishes from your mind and the rooftop so that you are, once again, alone. Still mesmerized by the dizzying view and the tragic history, you lay on the roof near the edge of the lookout and push the lens of your phone's camera far enough off to get a dizzying shot of the swimming pool. From this vantage point, you can see that the swimming pool is nowhere near dropping range from that height. The kid who attempted the high dive must have had poor judgment. The pool is actually some distance away from the drop off.
***
Later in the evening, you lay awake in bed while fearing that you might sleepwalk and return to the rooftop where you might act out the fatal stunt that led to the kid's death. It's going to be a long night.
And the night stretches on, each tick of the clock echoing in the silence of the hotel room. The sheets suffocate you as they wrap around you, and the soft hum of the air conditioning does little to drown out the haunting image of the rooftop and the pool below. The memory of the day's events play like a film reel, each frame more vivid than the last.
No matter what you do, you cannot shake off the adrenaline that had surged through your veins while perched at the edge, the world sprawling out beneath you. The city lights twinkled like stars, but all you could think about was the dark shadow of the past—a kid with poor judgment who had dared to take that leap, only to meet a tragic fate. The very thought sends chills down your spine.
Your imaginary companion’s teasing voice echoes in your mind, “Today I am…”—you had meant it, though. You were scared. Not just of the height, but of the reckless abandon that could pull you into the void. It was as if the rooftop had a magnetic pull, beckoning you to tempt fate.
Deep breaths; you try to calm yourself, but the creeping anxiety claws at your thoughts like a restless spirit. What if you did sleepwalk? What if the allure of that edge became too intoxicating, too irresistible? The fear of the unknown gnaws at you, and you can almost feel the cool metal of the pipe fence pressing against your skin.
You turn over, trying to find comfort with the fact that you are inside and safe in bed, but the reassurance seems so shallow. The golden fixtures and the intricate patterns on the walls only serve as a stark contrast to the dread that fills your chest. You glance at the bedside table, your phone glimmering in the dim light. The photos from earlier sit there, the captured moments of daring and danger.
With a shudder, you pick up the device, scrolling through the images. There it was—the one where you had leaned over the edge, your body suspended between the thrill of the moment and the fatal consequences that could ensue. The dizzying angle made your heart race, a reminder of how close you had come to the edge, both literally and figuratively.
The clock ticks on, and with each passing minute, the weight of your thoughts grow heavier. You imagine what it would be like to be that kid, feeling invincible one moment, and then... nothing... just silence. It's impossible to shake the notion that the rooftop is a threshold—not just between floors, but between life and death.
You rise from the bed, heart pounding, while pacing the room. The plush carpet feels luxurious under your feet, but it cannot dispel the chill that settles in your bones. You approach the window, pulling back the heavy drapes to reveal the vast night sky. The city sprawls below, alive and vibrant, unaware of your inner turmoil.
As you gaze out, the view shifts from beautiful to surreal. The swimming pool glimmers in the distance, a sapphire jewel under the moonlight, but it feels like a siren’s call. You can still hear your imaginary friend’s laughter, the thrill of the idea, and yet the weight of the tragedy hanging heavily in the air.
“No,” you whisper to yourself, shaking your head. “I won’t let it pull me under.”
Determined, you return to the bed, forcing yourself to lie back down. You close your eyes tightly, envisioning the pool not as a destination, but as a reminder of the fragility of life. The night stretches on, but you cling to the hope that dawn will bring clarity, that the morning sun will wash away the shadows that dance in your mind.
As you finally drift into a restless sleep, the last thought that flickers through your consciousness is a vow—a promise to never let fear dictate your choices, to embrace life fully, but always with caution. Tomorrow, you will step away from the edge, and perhaps, someday, you would find the courage to dive deep into the waters of life without looking back.

Blessed Are the Poor

 

The moment in Jesus ministry when he presented the Beatitudes to the crowds, in particular reminders that people are blessed when they are poor: What exactly does Jesus mean when he says, "Blessed are the poor..." How could somebody possibly be better off when they're poor?

When Jesus says, "Blessed are the poor," he is not glorifying poverty itself but rather highlighting the spiritual richness that can arise from recognizing one's need for God. This teaching invites individuals to embrace humility, trust in divine providence, and find hope in their spiritual journey, regardless of their material circumstances.

At the moment during his ministry while speaking the Beatitudes, Jesus used the word ani, a word that had evolved since it was created and simply referred to people who had no worldly possessions. For those suffering from poverty, Jesus' words offer hope. They affirm that despite their current circumstances, they are valued and loved by God. This message encourages the poor to find strength in their faith, suggesting that their current state does not define their worth or future.

Back to the etymology of "ani", it was soon recognized that people who lacked worldly possessions did not have enough influence or clout to have an impact on society. In the socio-political landscape of Jesus' time, the poor were often marginalized and exploited. However, their lack of worldly power also meant they were more likely to rely on God, fostering a deep faith and trust in divine provision. This reliance is what Jesus highlights as a source of true blessing. In that meaning, the word, ani, took on a 2nd dimension.

When Jesus refers to the "poor," it is often understood as a metaphor for those who are "poor in spirit." This means recognizing one's own spiritual neediness and dependence on God. In this sense, those who acknowledge their lack of self-sufficiency and turn to God for support are blessed because they are open to receiving His grace and the promise of the Kingdom of Heaven. This third dimension of "ani" serves to invert societal values. In a world that often equates wealth and power with success, Jesus emphasizes that true blessing comes from humility and dependence on God. This radical teaching reassures the marginalized that they hold a special place in God's Kingdom

Finally, because poor people had no worldly possessions, no influence or impact on society, and were often taken advantage of; the only thing they had left was God. They could only put their full trust into God and the source that would take care of them. And in this fourth dimension of “ani's” meaning is what Jesus meant by blessed are the poor.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beatitudes
https://www.biblestudytools.com/bible-stories/beatitudes-bible-verses-and-meaning.html
https://bible.org/seriespage/7-beatitudes-matthew-51-12

Streets of Dreams

Streets of Dreams

“A story about Lucy, Ramona and Sunset Sam”

In a city where the skyline kissed the clouds, two friends, Lucy and Ramona, wandered through the crowded streets, their minds swirling with dreams and uncertainties. The sun dipped low, casting a golden hue over the bustling sidewalks, where the rhythm of life pulsed underfoot. Their laughter mingled with the distant sounds of music and chatter, but beneath the surface, a sense of urgency loomed.

Lucy, with her fiery red hair and an insatiable curiosity, had always been the dreamer. She envisioned a world where possibilities were endless, where they could break free from the mundane and carve their own paths. Ramona, on the other hand, was the pragmatic one, her dark curls framing a face marked by determination. She grounded Lucy’s wild ideas with a touch of reality, reminding her that dreams needed plans.

As they navigated the streets, they stumbled upon Sunset Sam, a street artist known for his vibrant murals that brought life to the dullest corners of the city. Sam’s paintbrush danced across the wall, splashing colors that told stories of hope, love, and struggle. He noticed the two friends watching, his eyes sparkling with an unspoken understanding.

“What’s the plan, ladies?” he called out, pausing his work to wipe paint from his hands. “You look like you’re searching for something more than just a good cup of coffee.”

Lucy grinned, her excitement palpable. “We’re trying to figure out our next adventure!” she exclaimed, her voice brimming with enthusiasm.

Ramona chimed in, “We want to do something meaningful, something that will leave a mark. But we need a plan—something concrete.”

Sam nodded, his gaze drifting to the vibrant colors around him. “Plans can be tricky. Sometimes, the best ones come from spontaneity. How about we collaborate? I’ll paint a mural that reflects your dreams, and in return, you help me set up an exhibition.”

Intrigued, Lucy and Ramona exchanged glances, the wheels in their minds turning. They could feel the excitement of possibility igniting within them. What if they combined their talents? Lucy’s creativity and Ramona's organizational skills could breathe life into Sam’s art, transforming the streets into a canvas of hope and inspiration.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the trio brainstormed ideas, sketching visions in the air and laughing at the absurdity of their plans. They envisioned a night filled with music, colors, and stories—a celebration of life on the streets that would draw the community together.

In that moment, under the fading light, Lucy, Ramona, and Sunset Sam found more than just a plan; they discovered a shared purpose that would guide them through the uncertainties of life. The city, once a backdrop of chaos, became a stage for their dreams, a canvas waiting for their strokes of brilliance.

And so, they set off together, united by ambition, ready to paint their story across the skyline. The streets were waiting, and they were ready to leave their mark.

People On Highway Billboard Signs Waving at Me

 

As I navigated the familiar asphalt ribbon that stretched before me, the evening light began to dip, casting a warm glow on the world outside my car window. The rhythmic hum of the tires on the road was a comforting backdrop to my thoughts, a gentle reminder that soon I'd be home, shedding the weight of the day behind.

But then, something unusual caught my eye. The highway billboard ads, those static giants that usually blended into the scenery, seemed alive. The models, mid-smile, were waving—at me. Their bright eyes and infectious grins felt oddly personal, as if they knew my journey and were inviting me into their world.

I squinted at the first billboard, an advertisement for a new energy drink. The young woman with cascading brunette hair held her can up high, her outstretched hand beckoning. Next to her, a man with an exuberant grin held a sign proclaiming, “Join the adventure!” Both figures seemed to pulse with energy, their poses dynamic and engaging, almost as if they were encouraging me to break free from the monotony of my daily commute.

I chuckled at the absurdity of it all. Who were they really waving at? Surely, they were just photographs printed on vinyl, yet in that moment, they felt remarkably human. My mind drifted, imagining their stories—what brought them to that billboard? Had they, too, once been stuck in traffic, dreaming of a life beyond the confines of their frames?

As I continued down the highway, more billboards came into view. Each one seemed to join in the wave, and with it, a growing sense of camaraderie washed over me. A family promoting a local theme park, a couple advertising a new romantic getaway, a group of friends extolling the virtues of a new streaming service—all of them with their hands raised in an exaggerated wave, a silent cheer for the everyday traveler.

“Alright, I see you!” I found myself laughing, waving back at the cheerful faces plastered on the billboards, momentarily forgetting the stress of the day. It was a strange connection, this acknowledgment of the mundane, but it sparked a sense of joy within me.

In that surreal moment, the highway transformed. No longer just a route home, it became a shared experience, a collective nod to the lives we all lead, each of us trying to find our place in the world. I smiled as I drove, feeling a little lighter, a little more connected—to the billboards, to the city, and to the beautiful chaos of life itself.