Heaven being torn apart.!?

100118 06:09
I have a vision of Heaven being torn apart. Oddly it was the size of an average roadside billboard which had never been cleaned of all the preceding promises torn from it. For me it was as though I had seen the soul of my daughter raped and then rend limb from limb and I helpless to intervene. This is an image that has been forming in my vision/version of life and its value and directions for a very long time.
Slowly I have come to accept that I gave up my ambition to be something better than I was and remain to serve my son in his final years, then days and terminal hour. His sister’s death preceded Randy’s by years and I bore complicity for leaving her to die in custodial care feeling a rage and agony for that, unspeakable choice, especially with their mother.
I divorced her many years ago yet there is no divorce in my heart. I had to divorce from myself the child I was who knew love as dysfunctional--being addicted to that--what I now call co-dependence.
Many of the images, metaphors and omens are being wiped from my consciousness as I write. Justifiably so since they are history and this is now; reality versus ideals.
If we become what we love then I become something like God. Who as Parent is dispassionate and loves with ferocity stunning to behold . . . what some call, and or imply to be, ‘fear’, I call joy.
To me the reality of God is best expressed as a landlord who is unable to tend the flocks and vineyards we inhabit. It is our responsibility to be good stewards of not only the land and lives created but of ourselves as well. If we don’t do it who will and when?
I am fiercely political and theological yet refuse to debate my issues with others knowing I will lose my self in the process of attempting to compete with their perceptions or constructs of long standing traditions expressed as power. Historically everyone, and thing, is destroyed for being inconvenient to the authorities. I am especially conscious of the songs sung by the mountains around me by the natives who lived here long before me. Now desecrated and largely expunged . . . in a sense I long to join them since they knew God better than I. Issues of lineage and DNA are irrelevant to the soul and its vocations and or amusements.
I was once considered to be a ‘good’ photographer with a promising future. These estimates were welcome but pale compared to the joy I knew in my experience of being one at that time. Yet I fell blind to myself at the advent of my son’s demise. And here I am conscious of the indignities he suffered as well as those being suffered by the poor of the world now. We are not expendable feral dogs licking the masters hands who send us a crumb of attention, or off to fight their obscene wars. My point is simply that I never failed as witness and now sense my silence the brew of what writes now.
I seek no celebrity or profit from what I do in expectation of demise now, or tomorrow or later on by any means or measure. Given that, I do celebrate every moment including the normal depredations of age; the pain of an unusually cold winter, the stiffness of arthritis, et cetera, et al, since they remind me that I am alive and fully so.
I think it not odd to conclude leadership best seeks to replace itself with succession despite all the stories used to entertain we the victims of our civilization and culture. If I would serve you it is my intention that you take responsibility for your sense of what is worthy of love and nurture. If we do not then there will be no future and no witness save God.
All life is holy to me.