Peace is a valuable commodity. We seek it in the most peculiar places. King Midas sought it in the accumulation of gold. Often we do the same. If we can just obtain enough money we will be happy and secure. Money brings with it the respect of our peers in a capitalist society. I marveled at the placing of members of the Board of Trustees for our University in that they were by and large rich. Does money bring wisdom?

The same fiduciary construct exists in politics. Of late the perception of riches is as good as the riches. So those who have the money make the rules. They may be habitual liars but that is glossed over in favor of supplication to riches. The old saying that sticks and stones will break my bones but words will never hurt me is wrong. Words can do damage more than sticks and stones. Words lift up dictators and elevate imbeciles. Fascists enjoy the power of their untruthful rhetoric. Hitler assured the Germans he would elevate their country to its former glory. He did not tell them the price.

Churches bow their knees to money. It is easy to have two congregations in the same sanctuary. Those who have the pocketbook and prominence and those who have no voice. A popular doctrine sweeping much of the world is that serving Christ brings prosperity. The more money you give to the organization the more you will receive from God. Perhaps Jesus has his eyes on the shekles rather than the dove. Soon we need not look for humility and piety but McMansions and fine automobiles.

Peace can not be purchased. Peace is a state of mind.

‘I am looking forward to our time in the woods,’ Chet said.
When I feel down or depressed I find solace in the grandeur of God’s creation, he continued. ‘Mom sent some Oscar Mayer Wieners for us to roast but I want mine straight out of the wrapper,’ he laughed.

‘I am bringing along my laptop to do some writing the woods inspire me,’ Billy B said. ‘I get some of my best story ideas while listening to the birds sing and watching the creek flow over the sandstone,’ he said.

‘I have packed some Merlot hamburger and chips along with Hershey Bars and marshmallows of Smores,’ Neva J said with a wink and laugh. ‘Each time I am in the woods I feel like I am in church,’ she continued.

‘I enjoy being far removed from politics and pride,’ Jane said. ‘The artificial of politicians makes me nauseous, she noted. ‘Woods and flowing streams are my sanctuary, Jane explained.

‘We are here such a short time we waste so much of our beautiful gift with conmen and narcissists,’ Chet said with some knowledge. ‘Continually we are promised that which they have no intention of delivering except when it helps them,’ Chet continued. ‘A few good public servants go into the servitude of the people only to soon become rich and forget who sent them to their lofty office, he said.

‘Who is that man sitting by the rushing babbling creek,’ Neva J asked? ‘He looks strangely familiar,’ she added.

‘Would you like to join us for some Smores,’ Jane asked? ‘Come closer to our fire and we will tell tall tales and eat hot dogs and drink Merlot,’ Jane told the stranger.

‘I love Merlot and chocolate, Stranger said. ‘I have been waiting on you I am glad to join your camp feast,’ Stranger said. ‘I have become a bit chilly with the dark,’ he noted with a shiver.

‘Hold on my friend I have a hand-knitted sweater in the 57′ convertible that I will retrieve for you,’ Neva J said with a flourish.

‘Now I am fed and warmed,’ Stranger said. ‘Have you heard this song,’ as Stranger began to sing? ‘Jesus loves the little children all the little children of the world…red yellow black and white all are precious in his sight…Jesus loves the little children of the world.’

‘I have constructed you another Smore,’ Chet said joyfully.

‘Stranger was gone but his singing could still be heard…like the sound of many waters…