One beautiful summer day my grandfather took me to a company picnic and we watched carpenters build a huge sandbox. Then it was announced as dump trucks came to fill the empty sandbox with sand that there was money was in the sand and all the boys could dig for it.
I must have been about three at the time. When the "game" started all the boys ran to the box and I started to bolt but my grandfather had a tight grip on my hand and trying to fight it was useless, he was a very strong and kind man. I protested often to my grandpa that there would be no more money left and there were kids crying over sand tossed in their eyes and fights.
After watching it for a while I could see where there were costs involved with "free" money. Later in life I would revisit that scene and so much was learned there that day. After a while I didn't want to join the boys after seeing one big chubby boy much bigger than the other kids and he was one of the cruelest of the bunch deliberately hurting others to get his prize.
He was grinning with a stack of money and I didn't see him as a winner. Or maybe I did and decided that it wasn't for me.
After all the big kids got done it was time for the younger ones and again my grandfather held me back? It wasn't the all out war that the big guys waged and of course there was less money, mostly coins to find but the same amount of fighting and crying and kids getting hurt over it.
Finally, it was down to one weeping boy who had dug his heart out as he had found no money. The coast had cleared and after a while my grandfather walked me up to the sandbox and let me dig for money. He would stop me and say "What's that behind you Timoshanko? Is that money?
And there would be coins there. I knew it was him doing it but I played along and kept digging to keep the game going. By the time we were done it was time for more fun and refreshments at the company picnic. And I had my pockets full of change.
Somewhere in the mist of years the memory gives us more credit than we deserve and this too is tied to our morality and fear of death. Failure frightens me more than death. I compared my "winnings" that were in fact a gift the bully with so much money. I had actually seen him grabbing dollar bills out of younger kid’s hands and punching them.
And in the mist of memory I don't know where or when it dawned on me that I had more than the winner and I had received it by Grace without having to fight for it. Sure I had to dig but that was just an exercise so we could play the game of giving and receiving while attempting or playing at work.
My steadfast grandfather held me back from the battle where I would certainly have gotten hurt I didn't have the fight but I had the prize and a great time playing with my grandfather. After a while my grandfather would just toss coins in the pit when he thought it was dug deep enough making the work became play.
Years later a light went on in my head, I knew that the good Spirit that led him all his life had remained with me through God.
God held me back from the sandbox and I could not go to college. I had to dig and find some coins and He was behind me saying, “Timoshanko look behind you.” And there were times later in life when I dug a pit too deep to get out of and He threw me blessings and I was not alone.
I was not alone with my grandfather and God. And I realized that if I had fought with the big boys that my loneliness at being the only child at the time, would have been intensified with failure and tears at coming back empty and alone.
The way the world thinks is like the big kids in the sandbox. I had all the riches and it took me years to unravel those mysteries. There were three of us watching a show, God, my grandfather and me. And the world is the sandbox. It was a pretty ugly show in the long run with more losers than finders and victors. It was a dirty battle and I was clean watching it.
I had the best of both worlds and got more than a reward in what I'd learned that day. The lesson keeps coming back like the surf hitting the sands in eternity. I get to write about the fight and I have taken a very foolish position of wanting to be a referee in what I do in my works. Maybe the fight doesn't have to be that terrible?
But it does. And it will. Perhaps I will be involved because of my work for peace and prosperity, but I am trying to keep impartial because of the early lesson learned. I try to be on the outside looking at the fight but after so many years of seeing the same bullies win I decided, if it was possible to even the rules and give the small fry a chance like my grandfather and God had given me that wonderful day.
I remember the hot summer sun and how good that ice cream tasted that I "bought" with my own money. And my grandfather was pleased. I was clean, eating ice cream with my grandpa while some of the children were still whining about sand in their eyes.
And the sandbox has money tossed into it by the truckload as war and death and hell beckon the call of our leaders. I see a lot of sand and people with more than sand in their eyes, depleted Uranium that our boys bring home with them. It is carried on the winds causing me to wonder if this hasn't something to do with the promise that IF the Lord did not return when He does that there would no flesh survive; the fish, the birds, even the cockroaches would die not being able to mutate into something that could survive.
Why do the big boys wrap themselves in ritualistic flags and in the name of God go to the sandbox in the Middle East? Someone once said that after the power is gone in a system the symbol takes its place. Perhaps it was Joseph Campbell, so much for their rituals in a false gods and the symbol of what used to be at best “The Illusion of Freedom”. It is a strong drug and delusion.
That is what both sides of our democracy/republic labor under. The drug and the symbols of lost freedom and the ritual, properly wrapping them in the flag like a blanket to dream the American dream. But when we awake we find ourselves in the sandbox. Where is the love and respect for life in being involved in the oldest family feud on the planet? Who are the real “users” here as we war on terrorism and drugs in the sandbox?
Even Evangelists are blinded to what our true mission is. They cover their eyes with the flag (“…beware of the leaven of the Herodians”, a political party that although Hebrews they honored Herod as king above and beyond their true allegiance to God first. Herod was called the king of kings) blinded to even the words of our God and His teachings so that their eyes are closed to the truth.
This is idolatry.
In George Orwell’s 1984, Big Brother makes the statement that, “When I say war I really mean peace.” George Bush quoted it perfectly in one of his speeches.
So today it is a dog and pony show with a little show and tell along for the ride. When I carry the book, The Stone Soup Proposal with me people are transfixed by the book cover with TOP SECRET capitalized and stamped in bold red tilted in the top right corner. In the book we show how we can be free from oil and enrich the planet through peace.
We have found great wealth in what “they” tossed aside and suppressed. “They”’ tossed trillions of dollars worth of wealth in the pit. This is a legal and peaceful way to get even with the oil companies.
Peace is the most prosperous government.
The LORD is holding my hand was and he He is keeping me away from the sandbox. He told us to look behind us.
Our group found what “they” tossed behind; trillions of dollars worth of wealth in Public Domain patents, processes and methods and innovations.
After seventeen years a patent enters Public Domain and anyone can build them. The big boys game only holds true so long and there are new ones every day.
What the oil companies suppressed we dug and found and are now offering it to you free. Would you like to be part of this adventure?
“…freely ye have received, freely give.” We offer the book to you free. http://www.stonesoupcorp.com
Since our research began in 1981, over a hundred of us found the way to get even with the oil companies legally and peacefully, we invite them to the table to prosper in peace with us.
War is not peace.
Wake up from the dream and the wars. God has been holding our hands and we offer you to do the same. The Stone Soup Proposal is a God inspired blueprint for peace and to begin doing what those that survive the sandbox will be doing in the Millennium, a thousand years of peace.
There is no law against peace. Blessed are the peacemakers for they shall be called the sons of God.
We show you how to have and do, in the here and now, what work the survivors will do in the Millennium and prosper in peace.
Take His hand. Enjoy the ice cream.