The weather is a bit fall-like. It is. Mayday. A day that was a pretty big deal when I was a lad. We danced around the Maypole. You do not hear much about the Maypole these days. A third of 2026 is gone. The next third will go quicker. We are a part of the Earth. Spirits housed in Earthen Jars. Some think that their Earthen Jar is better than the rest. They are the same. When the rich and the poor talk together, many of their concerns are similar. False walls are constructed between people. Politicians do this for their own agendas. We are temporary in this life. Grandma A said if you live to be 100, your life will be short.

We are code speakers. A wink, a special handshake… an understanding that not all are in the Club. The academic elite have their own code. They listen to the great unwashed in a benevolent manner. There are ‘Professor Types,’ and then those who are ‘Blue Collar.’ Blue Collar are manual laborers, while academics do the profound thinking. The Blue Collar folks may be genius…wise…idea people…yet are rarely heard in the academic circles.

Then, there are angels in Earthen Pottery. People who transcend the Clubs and code. Earth Angels who see the Angel in each person they encounter. We live in the Potter’s Field so often. We scrape ourselves with potsherds and eye the success of our neighbor with a yellow eye. We are fashioned by the Master Potter. Our value is invaluable. Mindset can be changed. Living in fear can be altered. If we could see the great throng of witnesses surrounding us…We would take courage.

‘I remember what it was like to have nothing,
Billy B said. Neva J and I stood in Commodity lines to receive government cheese, dry milk, and potted meat,’ Billy B continued. ‘The workers threw the items onto the ground, and we scurried to pick the food up, Billy B remembered. ‘No one was our advocate…we did not know powerful people…we had no voice,’ Billy B said softly. ‘My shoes were made out of plastic, and my clothes were purchased at P.N. Hirsch, which was a bit of an upgrade from the Brokerage Store,’ Billy B laughed. ‘I wondered why some folks spoke to me condescendingly and with no empathy,’ Billy B noted. ‘The Principal’s secretary told the Principal that I did not know how to use a telephone…we did not have a telephone,’ Billy B smiled. ‘Through all of this odd treatment, I did not hate; I felt sorry for the people who seemed to feel that there was more than one category of kids,’ Billy B explained.

‘We need renewal of our vision,’ Chet observed. ‘Divisive words tear us apart…we need a Preacher,’ Chet proclaimed. ‘Not a Preacher who expounds on Prosperity and how to achieve it as a follower of Christ…one who speaks on Community,’ Chet observed. ‘A Preacher who sees an angel in each of our Earthen Pottery Vessels…not just the special people,’ Chet said quietly.