Jaded by Blackberries and Bushes

Where are they all going?

Literally, spiritually....Where ARE they all going?

The ache of watching and wondering as cars just keep on driving...real people, going somewhere (or so they think) often gets to me..

Especially if in an ironic juxtaposition...as in driving past a homeless person or Christian billboard they don't even see...

I have blogged before on "Double," the devastating beautiful painful masterpiece song by Michael Knott (lyric and commentary here )...

...but this live video clip doubled the devastation, due to the cars one can see just passing by behind the outdoor stage.

Oblivious.

Do they have any idea a



prophet is prophesying...perhaps about them...only yards away?

The closest experience I have is watching God show up dramatically as Michael Pritzl raised his guitar in worship, leading the audience at the Anaheim club in the astonishing closing verses of singing/praying:
"Lay Your hands on me...Let Your Love cover me" and prophetically challenging the crowd to "rise up"
(the video below is the same song from a Christian festival..so it likely wont have the same effect on you(:....but with people walking around the crowd casually...how could they?....The section that I am referring to begins at 4:40)



I was almost afraid to open my eyes. Jesus would surely be tempted to return (Or at least make a personal appearance) in response to such raw worship!).

Yet I did.

And I saw to my amazement:

The bartender, and his son, behind the bar..

Playing cards, not even acknowledging the stage and its near Christophany...

Fiddling while Rome burned.


EB Browning:“Earth’s crammed with heaven and every common bush ablaze with God. He who sees takes off his shoes, the rest sit round and pluck blackberries."

Or mechanically check their Blackberry devices..

But I may walk by Jesus every day.

I once threw out his water glass

Thanks to Kathy Ledbetter for capturing this photo that devastates me to this day...It is a scene right out of the Bible:




I didn't even speak to him on the Palm Sunday road into Jerusalem, as he greeted me with an outstretched hand and "Good Morning." I don't know if he was just a beggar, or just Jesus.

Or both.

He may have been sent by God or the devil.

Or both.

He may have been insane.

Or the smartest man in the world.

I walked by.