Author: Mike Cooney

It was a late Spring day in 1961, sometime in the afternoon.  I was in eighth grade.  My desk was right next to the window, so I had a clear view of the school yard and parking lot.  This particular day was a holiday for the public school students; but not for those who attended a Catholic school.  I don’t remember what Sister Bernadine was teaching that afternoon; but I do remember being jolted out of my daydreaming by the shout of the girl next to me, “They’re stealing the bikes.”

There were five or six kids who were taking bikes from the bike racks and riding off with them.  In those days, we didn’t have to lock them up for fear of being stolen.  That all changed.  Sister Bernadine saw what was going on and immediately shouted out the order, “Go get them!” and a bunch of students ran outside and gave chase.  I wasn’t one of them.  I was basically frozen in fear and sat there watching it all happen.

“Michael, run down to the principal’s office and let her know what happened so she can call the police.”  Her words startled me out of my condition and I ran through two buildings to the principal’s office.  I remember convincing myself  that I was on an errand as noble as running after the bike thieves.  I know.  It wasn’t.  I spent the rest of the school year dealing with ridicule I received from  some of the other students.  “Chicken. . .wimp“, and a few others that I can’ t repeat.  I brought it on myself.  I caused it.  I paid the price, the effect of my behavior.  My first scarlet letter.    Funny. . . I can smell the fragrance of lilies right now.

“Blessed is the man whom You have chosen and have caused to approach you. . .”

When the newbie sheep heard me say the word, “You”, meaning God, they began to sing that old Joe Cocker song again.”You are so beautiful, to  me. . .You’re everything I hoped for, you’re everything I need. . .”  They are such romantics.  He is their one, true Love.  They are madly in love with him.  After all, He did heal their madness.  There are a few here at the meeting today who are touched by the song.    Tears of Joy.

In the original Hebrew language of the Old Testament, the word ‘chosen‘ means, “to select from among the whole group;  to make a choice;  to appoint to the position of a son or daughter;  to join to;   to form a union with;  to wed.”  I can sense that some of the first-timers to the meeting are getting a little turned-off with the religious sound of the bible verse and the words.  My Lily knows the feeling.  Religion had brought a sour taste to her  mouth too.  I mean no disrespect by this, but that’s always a good sign.

“Blessed is the man you have caused to approach you.”

The word ’caused’ means, “cause to come near;  cause to approach;  to produce the desired action and the effect;  bring to Life.”  The most simple illustration that helps define the word is the story of Lazarus.  He was dead, in the tomb for four days.  Jesus approached the tomb and said. “Lazarus, come forth.”  Upon hearing Jesus’ words  (for the dead can hear Him when He speaks),  Lazarus rose from his grave and approached Jesus.  The willingness to rise, the power to come forth. . .all was the effect of the Cause.   The Divine Cause.

There are dozens of short stories already written in my heart, all chapters in my autobiography called,  “The Chicken Who Would be an Eagle.”   Yep.   There they go again.  I knew as soon as it sounded negative, a few of the newbies would be in my face. “Why are you so down on yourself all the time?”  But before they had a chance to say anything more, my Lily jumped in to say, “You’ll all see one day, when you hear Him speak to your heart. . .the Divine Word,  ‘BUT’. “I’ll give you an example,” she said.

“I am the Vine, you are the branches. In union with Me, you bring forth fruit. BUT apart from Me, on your own, you can do nothing.

It’s a different kind of positive thinking.  It’s being certain about the two alphabets.   Another example is, “BUT when I am weak, only then am I strong.”   The others at the meeting are smiling and nodding their heads in approval.  It’s this kind of honesty that draws them to each other. They love that they can be real. . .say what’s on their minds. . .be listened to and understood. . .with little or no need of cross-talk.  They all know Who’s the only One with answers.   The Only One to fix them.   Frankly, the only One they’ll listen to.

“. . .That they may dwell in Your courts:  we shall be satisfied with the Goodness of Thy house.”

My Lily is still up at the  speaker’s podium.  “I know it sounds very religious. Ugh!  That taste in your mouth is because of the ingredient that man has added to the Truths concerning God and His ways.  Man has poisoned  the well by simply sticking his hand into it.  Arsenic . .  from the root word, arse.  From the root word, ass.  In the Old Testament, God compares man and his ways to the ways of the colt of a wild ass. . . which some say is the most stupid animal alive.”    Lily and other flowers  from the valley are such a wonder.  Filling the air with the fragrance of  the knowledge of God and His ways.

We may be weak.  We may be tired and weary.  We may be fearful and anxious.  We may have caused every difficult moment in our lives BUT,  “We shall be satisfied.”  The Hebrew meaning for satisfied is, “filled to satisfaction;  filled with God;  be full and overflowing; to be nothing yet possess everything;  to have plenty.”   Plenty of Goodness.   Plenty of God’s Beauty.  Filled with the Fruit of His Golden Tree.  Love, Joy, Peace, Patience,  Kindness, Strength, Wisdom, Faith, Self-control.

He is the first Cause.  The sheep of His flock are the effect of His own will and work.   And one thing that they all have in common are the troubles they’ve seen. . .that they all seemed to have caused.  Each one shares the tomb with Lazarus.  Dead in their fears, dead in  their anxieties, dead in their addictions, dead in their depression, dead in their guilt and self-condemnation, dead in their ignorance of how dead they are.    BUT. . .“Blessed is the man You have chosen and caused to approach You.”  Come forth out of your tomb, into the Light. . .into the Sonshine of a new day.  Welcome first-timers.  Welcome little Dumbo.   Welcome soaring eagle.  My name is Mike. . .and I’m a recovering colt of a wild ass.

When I woke up yesterday morning, I could  hear a song playing in my head.  I hadn’t heard it in along time.  It comes for a 1965 Broadway musical called “On a Clear Day.”  Two of the crooners, back in the day, that made the song popular were Robert Goulet and Frank Sinatra.

“On a clear day, rise and look around you, and you’ll see who you are.  On a clear day, it will astound you that the glow of your being outshines every star.”  I was singing out loud yesterday afternoon and evening, as I was shoveling the driveway for the fifth time, trying to keep up with the hevy downfall.  Seriously 🙂

It was a very light-weighted, soft, glistening snow. . .and super-white in color.  Snow white.  Each pass I made with the shovel revealed the black asphalt surface underneath it.  Even as I made my way down the driveway, the asphalt behind me was already disappearing under the blanket of the persistent, continuing influence of the snow.

“Purge me with the purifying hyssop and I shall  be clean like a new, clear day:  wash me and I shall be whiter than snow. . .hide Your Face from the blackness of my sins; blot them out forever and ever.” One of the newbie Dumbo sheep, a first-timer at the meeting, is sobbing.  My Lily walked over and handed her some flowers just newly-picked from the valley.  Lily is holding her now, wiping her tears and whispering sweet words to her heart.  Her tears are flowing like a river. . .the dam has finally burst open.  For where the River flows, everything shall live.  There’s such a glow about her right now.  It outshines every star.

We just listened to the song.  The Dumbo sheep were doing their Sinatra impersonation as they were singing along.  “You’ll feel part of, every mountain, sea and shore.  You can hear, from far and near,  a world you’ve never heard before.”  That was pretty good.  Sounded just like “Old Blue Eyes.”  But you should hear their Divine Personation of their Father.  They sounded exactly like Him.  The Spit and Polish of their Dad.  They even act like Him.

“Of Him, and through Him, and to Him. . .are all things.”  God is the Part and Parcel of everything.  He is the Life Essence.  In Him, all things live and move, and have their being.  Every mountain, sea and shore. . .every man, woman and child. . .every snowflake and every shining star.  Are you hearing some things that you’ve never heard before?  Take heart!  Faith comes  by hearing new things.

“On a clear day, on a clear day:  you can see forever, and ever, and ever more.”  The eagles love these lyrics so much they’ve gotten the words tatooed on their hearts.  It’s because they have been given eyes to see forever.  They have their Father’s eyes to use as their own.  They can see Him now with their own eyes.  They have seen His Crown.  It reads, “Forever.”  Forever union with them.  Eternal, predestined love for them. . .always theirs, always arriving in time at just the right moment.  Blanketing their souls with a heavenly downfall. . .covering them with the Son’s snow-white robe of forgiveness and Life.

“Thus says the High and Lofty One that inhabits Eternity, whose name is Holy.  I dwell in  the High Place with him who has a contrite and humble spirit, who know that when they are weak, they are strong in My Strength.”  I’m watching some of the more studious sheep at the meeting today as they are taking out their pens and paper to take notes. They always do that  when thereis a sense that something deep is  coming.  They don’t want to forget what they hear.  I always reassure them that whatever God wants them to remember, He writes it down on the journal of their heart, never to be forgotten.

“He inhabits Eternity.”  He is continuously Living in Eternity. Everything that existed before the creation of the world, everything that has and will exist in time and everything that will come into existence after time. . .all of  this is always in His present view.  At this moment, He sees everything. He is infinite in His Wisdom, His Power, His Knowledge, His Presence.  He occupies the universe.  He can and does see  “Forever, and ever, and ever more.”

Nothing is new to Him.  Nothing is old.  Nothing comes as a surprise.  No unexpected changes. “He is the Same, yesterday, today and Forever.”  On a clear day, the day of His Power, His children can see Him, Who’s name is Forever.  They see what He alone can see.  Eternal Love.  Unconditional Love.  Forgiving Love.  Unmerited Love.  A no-strings attached Love. A Love that falls from Heaven and covers the black asphalt of the heart.  A Love that was always meant to be.

Freely given.  Freely received.  Free, Love.

“Golden child.  He’s as like his own Dadda as if he were the very spit out of His own mouth.”  I told my Lily about this story and she was a little squeamish.  “Another spit blog?” she asked.  All of the Lilies of the Valley speak their minds.  Good for them.

When I was a young boy, my mom would be constantly on the alert to any dirt smudges of any kind on my face.  When I watch the nature channels and see the animal moms continuously preening their young ones, licking them clean, I am reminded of my mother.  She’d simply lick her finger and wipe the dirt off my face.  Then she’d usually go hunting in my ears for whatever is it was that seemed to fascinate her. 🙂  It always took some doing to keep me still long enough for her to thoroughly do the job.

“Mom!  Do you have to?”  Yes.  She had to. I am teary-eyed as a I write this. I’d give anything to have here with me. . .to wipe the smudges on my face, and on my heart.  A mother’s love can do all of that.

The phrase, ‘Spit and Polish’ is actually defined in Webster’s dictionary.  “The practice of polishing objects by spitting on them and rubbing them with a cloth;  the action of giving something a thorough cleaning, polishing and refurbishing.”  As I was saying this, I noticed a big smile on everyone’s face at the  meeting today. . .and one of the newbie Dumbo sheep is jumping up and down, almost ready to fly, waving her hand and her ears.  “I feel that way when someone Loves me,” she said.  A touch or a kiss, a kind word or a hug, a little clean-up with some spit. . .makes everything right again.  The heart is refurbished.  Everyone nodded.  They know.

There are a couple, great spit stories in the Bible.  One in the Old Testament and one in the New.  Don’t worry Lily.  They’re not gross.  You will love them.

Poor old Job was in the midst of the worst experience of his life.  He had lost everything that was near and dear to him. . .his children were killed, his home was destroyed, his riches were stolen, his wife was bitter towards him, and his body was covered with painful boils.  He had lost the respect that others had for him.  Everyone blamed him for the calamity.  Even his “so-called friends” said it was his  own fault.  Job said about these friends, “They are children of fools, viler than the earth and I have become their standing joke.  They hate me and they treat me now like dirt.  They have abandoned me. They spit in my face.”

Definitely unloving behavior; but not hard to believe.  All those in attendance at the meeting today have lived at both ends of this story.  That’s why we always end our time together reciting the Lord’s Prayer.  “. . .Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. . .”

In the New Testament, in the Gospel of Mark, some people brought  a man to Jesus for “A Good Spit and Polish.” The man was deaf and had a speech impediment and they hoped that Jesus could refurbish him.  “They asked Jesus to put His hand on the man.  And He took the man aside, away from the crowd so that it was just the two of them.  He put His finger into the man’s ears and He spit. Then He said to the man, “Ephphatha”, that is, “Be  opened.”  And straightaway,  his ears were opened and the string of his tongue was loosed and he spoke plainly.”

The word spit in the original Greek language of the New Testament, means “the spit itself;  to spit;  to fly;  to make a new path.”  Like a mother’s love,  Jesus always flies to thoroughly wipe away every smudge, to provide His medicine for every disease and disability, to provide a new path, to generate a new man and woman. . .not just cleaned, polished and refurbished; but made into His very Own  Image.  His Spitting Image.

All pruned, washed and watered, little Lilies of the Valley.  Filling the air with the fragrance of Heaven.  Fitted with those wonderful big ears, all of you Dumbo sheep. Enabling you to hear His big Words of Love.   And those wings that mystically appeared, you soaring eagles, flying over the Rainbow. . .blessed with those eyes that see His Love and His Beauty, and eat from the Fruit of His Orchard.   “Daughters and sons. . .the very spit of the Captain of their salvation.”

Freely given.   Freely received.   Free, Love.

When was the last time you noticed that some of your behaviors are just like your dad’s or your mom’s?  Especially when its the one that you swore would never come from you to someone you love. Never in a million years.  No way.  And then, “Oh my gosh, I’m just like him.”  How did that happen? The long-timers at the meeting today will tell you how.  Generation.  One of the newbie Dumbo sheep looks distressed about what I said.  “I know Honey, we all love our parents and are grateful for what they’ve done for us.  They’ve done their best.”

Just this morning I searched for information regarding the origin of the phrase, ‘The Spitting Image’ on a web site called the The Phrase Finder.  Some believe it comes from the process of splitting wood down the middle to get exact mirror images for building furniture and musical instruments like the back of a violin.  This is called, ‘Splitting Images’. . .and when spoken in the original dialect, the letter L is left out, resulting in ‘Spitting Images’.

Other theories suggest it comes from a line of dialogue in a 17th century play.  “Poor child!  He’s as like his own dadda as if he were spit out of his mouth.”  Another speculation is a phrase from a 19th century book called the New Gate Calendar.  “A daughter. . .the very spit of the old captain.”  At the end of that century, there was another reference in a novel.  “She’s like the poor lady that’s dead and gone, the spit and image she is.”

It’s all about generation.  Webster defines the word to mean: “the act or process of producing offspring;  to originate something;  to form with accuracy;  to be the cause of a state of mind or action;  the formation of likeness.”  Most simply put, the next successive generation is the product of generation. . .mirror images of others. . .spitting images.

I’ve spent the last 35 years listening to people share with me the contributions that their family members have made in forming the character traits of their personality.  I’m shaking my head back and  forth right now, regretting every destructive, unkind, unloving moment perpetrated on my kids by my own insanity.  Who knows what they’re doing?  Everyone is trying to do the best that they can. Yet, there is a secret phenomena, like another dimension, creating the future. . .generating unwanted, unacceptable behaviors with those we love. . .and they are the last people in the world we would do that to.  “I’ll never be that way with my kids, with my friends, with my family,” we say with firm resolve.

We are generated from the loins of Adam, so to speak.  We are the fruit of his tree. . .and the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.  A chip off the old block. Just like your old man.  When Adam lost his innocence, he lost his immunity from sickness.  His mind, his soul, his spirit, his body were now susceptible to disease and decay.  In one moment, he brought upon himself and all future generations, total disability.  This disability is generated through the daily interactions and transactions that transpire within the family dynamics.   Seeds of trouble are sewn every day.  In many cases, the trouble remains underground until the first shoot appears and begins to grow into something unmanageable.   . .and hurtful to someone else.

When the Lilies of the Valley heard this for the first time, they thought it smelled a little fishy.  It wasn’t just them who were suspicious. In fact, the Dumbo sheep couldn’t believe they’re ears when they heard it.  And, if the eagles hadn’t seen it with their own eyes, they would have thought they were listening to a madman.

As I am the recipient of any unloving behavior, that behavior will enter into my soul and the emotional impact it has on me will be addressed as best as possible by the psychological assets that I am equipped with.  But there’s much, much more to it than what meets the eye.  It’s the violence of the behavior and the subsequent contribution it makes to the generation of it in the soul.  It becomes a potential time bomb, scheduled to go off when a person’s natural gifts are depleted. . .small p, patience. . .small t, tolerance. . .small f, forgiveness. . .small l, love.  The best resolutions to be different, the strongest resolve of the heart, only become the best laid plans of mice and men.  Anger becomes the spring from which all destructive behavior originates and does violence to someone’s soul.

We are convinced that “we get over things. . .that we’ve dealt with that issue and have moved on.” I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve heard myself and others say, “I thought I was over it.”  We all think that, to one degree or another.  Then the reality shows up. . .”She’s like the poor lady that’s dead and gone, the spit and image she is.”  Dead and gone?  Only sleeping in the graveyard in the soul.  .  .waking up at any given moment to replicate destructive behavior.

What is unloving behavior?  Seriously.  List a couple of behaviors in your mind.  It’s pretty clear.  All of us can answer that question.  My Lily just leaned over and said, “I only trust His answers.  My confidence lies only in what comes straight from the His mouth.”  He speaks in the book of Proverbs.  “The mouth of God is a well of Life;  but violence covers the mouth of  man. . .the souls of the generations of men since Adam shall eat violence.”   They feed each other violence. . .unloving behavior.

What is Loving behavior.  The newbie Dumbo Sheep all have their hands up and can’t wait to give the answer.  Can you see it?  Capital L, LOVE.  God alone.  The Father alone.  The Son alone.  The Spirit alone.  Together, alone.  The Father’s behavior is in choosing His children and authoring their lives perfectly, in every way, shape and form.  The Son’s behavior is best seen in the Light of His biography. “He made His grave with the wicked and with the rich in His death;  because He had not done any violence, neither was there any deceit in  His mouth, only Love.  Yet it pleased His Father to bruise Him. . .and open the door to heaven through Him, Who is the Door.”  He had not done any violence.  The Spirit of God’s behavior is in making all of this a present reality in the soul by bringing the very presence of God through Christ to it and dwelling in it.

The word violence in the  original Hebrew text means, “to be violent;  to mistreat;  to take from someone wrongfully;  to imagine wrongfully against someone;  to damage in any way;  to do an injustice to;  to deal wrongfully;  to use  for one’s own self-interest;  to oppress in any way;  to take something.”   Whatever is not Loving behavior, is violence.  God generates His own behavior. . .He reproduces what He alone possesses.  Man generates his own behavior. . .he reproduces what he alone possesses.  Both create spitting images.  Sometimes they appear to be similar. . .the Upper and lower case letters of the alphabet have a way of doing that.  The eagles are flapping their wings,  ready to fly over the Rainbow of His Love. . .because of what they see.

“But we all,  with wide-open eyes, see as in a mirror the glory and Love of God. . .and are changed into this same image as His Presence is made known to the soul. . .as His Words of Love feeds the heart and conforms the character into the very image of His Son.”  Like Father, Like Son, like sons and daughters.

“Rich child.  He’s like his own Dadda as if he was the spit of His own mouth.”  A Golden apple from the Golden Apple Tree.    Freely given.   Freely received.   Free, love.

     “Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all?”  The mirror replied, “Thou O Queen, art the fairest of them all.”  Snow White’s step mother possessed a  magical mirror that continuously provided her with reassurance that she was the most beautiful sight to behold.  .  .Jeepers!  Talk about a sight to behold, seven dwarf sheep just showed up at our HA meeting today.  They know the story by heart. And they are all too familiar with what the full-length mirror says about them.    “Hi.  I”m Bashful.  Doc.  Dopey.  Grumpy.  Happy.  Sleepy.  Sneezy.  We’re recovering humans.”

Mirrors.  Webster defines them as, “a polished or smooth substance that forms images by the reflection of light;  something that gives a true representation of the object.”  From the moment we come forth from the womb, to the moment we die. . .we see our reflections in mirrors and they give us what we come to believe is a true resemblance of who we are.

Back in the late 50’s, when summer vacation would come, a bunch of us would hop on the bus to   the north side of Chicago and spend the day at the Riverview amusement park.  One of  the attractions was the “House of Mirrors.”  You would walk through a maze that contained dozens of mirrors that were imperfect and would reflect your image back to you in distorted ways that were fun to look at.  The Dumbo sheep don’t remember it being very funny.  They hated what their big ears looked like.   Even my sweet little Lily, the most fragrant of all of His flowers, has spent her life in that maze of mirrors, getting the wrong impressions of what she looks like. . .and who she is.

Mirrors are influences.  Man is the lower case alphabet letter m in mirror.  God is the upper case, Capital letter M in Mirror.  It is the difference between human and Divine.  Both mirrors are influences on our lives and in them.  The word, “influences” in the original Hebrew language of the Old Testament means, “a bond formed;  to lace and bind tightly together.”  Just picture a new-born baby entering the house of mirrors. . .seeing her reflection in the “Ooh’s and Ahh’s of the delighted parents and family.. Only good vibes.  Just healthy kharma.  Always sweet, careful words to the new little bundle of joy.  Good moments.  A true reflection on who they are.  Then the first steps are taken into the maze and the mirror image begins to change. It becomes distorted because the mirror itself is imperfect.  We become tied to the reflection and a bond is formed to the changing image.  A self-concept is created.

     “Mirror, mirror on the wall. . .what must I do to get you to say that I am the fairest of them all?”  So we adapt in the moment to each mirror, to each person who influences us and reflects something back to us about ourselves.  Keep in mind, that all of this is happening in the Riverview house of mirrors.  Altered images.  Images that are the creation of the mirrors themselves. False images.

Most of my life, I had simply become what I saw each day in the reflection of the people around me.  I was looking for acceptance and approval.  Wanting to be needed and valued.  Becoming what others wanted me to be, and yet still getting distorted views of myself which drove me to try harder to please others.  No wonder we medicate.  The eagles know.  Their wings were clipped for a long time. Nothing more tragic and sad than to see eagles earthbound. . .not able to soar above the rainbow.  Thank God their lives have changed.  Their wings have grown back, stronger than ever.  They’re ready for take-off.

“In the Book of Life, You have authored many difficult moments for me; but You shall quicken me again. You will influence me with Your Own Life and You will bring me up again from the depths of the earth to the mountain top of Your Love.  You will be my Mirror and shall make me Strong and Wise. I will become a Reflection of Who You are.  I will be conformed to Your image.  I will be Beautiful because it is You Who I resemble.”  Psalm 71:20-21.  You are the Fairest of them all.

As I was writing this, a song came into my mind.  It is a duet.  God sings it to every one of the sheep of His flock and they           reflect the song back to Him.  It’s an old Joe Cocker song.  Listen to it, sweet Lily. . .let His fragrance fill your heart.  Open up those big ears, flying Dumbo sheep. . .hear the wonderful things He says about you.  Fly over the Rainbow of His Love, soaring eagles. . .see yourself in the Light of His Grace and  Mercy to you.

   “You are so Beautiful, to me;  you are so Beautiful to Me, can’t you see?  You’re everything I hope for;  everything I need.  You are so Beautiful, to Me.”  The One True Mirror.  An Altered State, changed into His Image.  The seven dwarf sheep have been changed.  They have been given new names. “Love.  Joy.  Peace.  Patience.  Kindness.  Faith.  Power.  Now they  know exactly who they are.  Seeing God’s Beauty as their own.

     THE  DIVINE  MIRROR.    Freely given.    Freely received.    Free, Love