GOD, as himself….Character role-Jericcho Hill.

okay. Now let me explain. I’ve been away from my desk…and you folks know what that means. Jericcho Hill has gotten herself in a peck a trouble. Once upon a time I was Jericcho Falls. Well, but I digress. That old boy and I parted company somewhere in the not so distant future.  So I’m going back to the name the good Lord gave me…which is Jericcho Hill. But this here honorable establishment won’t let ya change your banner once you proclaim it. So he lives in infamy.

Yes, my daddy had a wicked sense of humor. Seven times around the house and seven daughters later I was born…and did he consider me in the naming. Well…parents don’t always give thought to what they tag a child with. I’m lucky really…one of my sister’s he called Habbakuh. Rhymes with tobacco. She and Daddy don’t get along much.

Poor girl…we just call her Abbie.

So anyway, I asked God one day, I said “GOD”..folks sure do set a fine store by names don’t they. And what’s with you anyway…changing them biblical names every third Weds.

“Well Jericcho,” He said to me. “What ever do you mean.”

“Well Abram barely got used to his before you changed it to Abraham. “

“Well it was for a purpose honey. To reflect his venerable position as “the father of many nations.” You do remember that don’t ya. The whole house of Israel from which sprang the Lord Jesus. They do figure prominently in the book.

“Well the patriarcals, yes…vaguely.”

“Well there  have been a few women I’ve worked with over the years. You remember one or two don’t ya.”

“Yes I do God, now that you mention it. Sarah laughed, and you named a child for it. But first you made her change her name. Genesis wudden it.

“Your too smart Jericcho. God worries about you.”

“Well Sarah was a beautiful name, but you really didn’t improve it much when you changed it to Sarai. Not that Sarai isn’t beautiful, and it does elaborate… but didn’t that get a tad confusin’.

“Well not really honey. When I speak a word it usually sticks.”

“Well true God. There’s that whole “he spoke and the world was” bit.

“Well it was a bit more than a BIT, honey.”

“Now don’t take offense God…I can call you God can’t I?”

“Well many people do. A few call me by my given name, but I prefer The Lord God Almighty.”

“You have a GIVEN name?” “

“Well  a few. Jehovah is one. YHWH another. But if either one is too much for your southern venacular…you can just call me THE GREAT I AM.

“You sure set a store by names God.”

to be continued….

Still, in the spirit of “reconciliation”, I found this poem I wrote about 12 years ago while I was going through some wicked stuff. If you see it elsewhere it’s under a pen name. I have this thing about, well, reinventing myself from time to time. I think everybody should personally.  But anyway,  it was a poem, then a song, now its a poem again. Guess the more thihgs change the more they stay the same. Anyway..I offer it now in the spirit of brotherly love…I know Jesus remembers what it was like to have “a day from hell”. 

            Promises From a Bad Ass Hebrew

There’s a day that’s darker than any night you’ve known

Burdens heavy laden, that can’t be borne alone

Silence so deafening, no one can hear your cries

Sorrow so encompassing you have no where to hide

In the midst of your afflictions, dark demons of despair

Turn—seek the voice you hear, I am standing there.

I’m the strength that carries you, the door through which you flee

The evidence of things unseen, the saving hand you need

Too long you’ve been wandering, through valleys dark and cold

Black shadows are obscuring all My wonders to behold

  I know your spent and fearful, but there’s no need to be

  Put your weary hand in mine and you may walk with me

We’ll stumble through the trenches, onto pastures bursting green

To sup beside still waters, and drink from a living spring

In this world you will have sorrow, because thunder drives the rain

But I’m your stalwart companion, dwell in the shade of My wings

                                                                                      (C)

                                                                                Janna Thomas