Author Archives: admin

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Prayer walk

You can’t force some things 

– Am I feeling sufficiently at PEACE to go to work today... ?

Hmmm... I’m not sure... the thing is, there has to be a real desire from the heart to go – it mustn’t be just something I do out of a sense of duty...

If that’s how you think on getting up in the morning, don’t be surprised if in the evening, your boss follows your example:

– I don’t know if I really WANT to pay them their salary this month... I don’t think I really feel like it... 

I don’t feel at PEACE with that idea...



A ‘Shortcut’?

I often take shortcuts through the forest to get to my studio. It’s a bit strange, because it’s only one floor down from where I live! At the same time, it really helps me to save time (as long as I don’t get lost!), because I have a daily meeting with God (unless it’s God who has a daily meeting with me... ?).

To ‘waste’ time on things that really matter, is to save time.

My feelings and desires, whether I’m being tossed about on a stormy sea of emotions, or whether I’m enjoying a respite from the stresses and strains of life, don’t actually change anything – it’s not my feelings that are in charge (capiche!?...I’m pointing it out because sometimes you get the impression that our emotions haven’t quite realized that...).



Warning: religion about!

When I’m walking but not really concentrating, sometimes I’ll serve up a whole raft of meaningless phrases:

– Be to you thanks! Ohhh my Lord! 

(What’s the ‘ohhh’ about again?)

Arggh! Imagine someone spoke to you like that – I can’t think of anything more cringeworthy! God deserves more than that...

I’m not here to do my ‘prayer’ homework,

but to sincerely seek God 

(seeing as how I often lose sight of Him).



Yoohoo... is anyone there?!

I’m walking through a meadow, feeling a little ridiculous, because it seems like I’m talking and there’s nobody else there...

At the same time, Jesus said: Believe in me...’

not: ‘Feel something through me...’

... Okay, so I’m going to decide to believe.

I embark on an animated account of all my woes:

– It’s terrible - I don’t seem to be able to get my comic books onto the shelves – all the store bosses tell me thanks but no thanks (what’s more, they say no because I want to talk about you!).

(That was my challenge! At that time, I thought it was the toughest one I’d ever have to face…)

– Lord, it’s like there are walls blocking my way...

Give me a chariot with a snow plough* mounted in front (*it’s a Swiss thing, you wouldn’t really understand...) so that I can break them down!

My prayers are accompanied by extravagant, Italian-style arm gestures (from a distance, you might think I was on the receiving end of a hornet attack!). As I returned home, Gritsburgerandfries (not his real name) was there to greet me.




Swept along by the torrent of people exiting the church, I slip out of the building. There, hidden behind a few believers exchanging pleasantries, my eyes met those of a stranger.

I immediately saw that those eyes had already looked into God’s gaze.

Intrigued, I went up to him and asked:

– So who are you?

– I come from Geneva. At the moment I’m working on a local farm but they haven’t been very welcoming towards me...I’m finding it pretty tough...

- Really? Well, why don’t you come and stay with us for a while if you want? (he stayed for 2 weeks....).

He sports a big beard and boasts an imposing physique 

(his big belly really suits him).

When he prays, he simply sinks into an armchair – he can spend hours there, completely still...

When Gritsburgerandfries opens the hall door, it’s like receiving an enormous gust of God’s presence in your face, there’s something almost physical about it, like a kind of cloud !!! Gritsburgerandfries’ head appeared through the half-open door and with his usual calm, he looked at me and said: 

Hey Alain, I was praying for you and I saw you in a vision! You were on a chariot which had a snow-plough mounted on the front and you were breaking down all the walls that stood in your way!!!

–  !!? (Incredible! Had he got news by fax or what?! 

Hmm... Lord, if you tell everyone all my secrets, I’ll stop telling you anything at all... !)

When you talk to God (I’m talking about the God of the Bible, the only one I’ve got in stock), you’re talking to a God who really does listen....whether or not you can actually sense that...

Like many people, I’m going through a very difficult time, and the tumult of this is preventing me from hearing God’s voice clearly... but this real-life story reminds me that He listens...

and that He will not let those who put their trust in Him to fall any further than into the palm of His hand.

(Translated by Stephen Kells)

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Did you know that God is the same whether we’re at church or not!?

In the market!
I like it when my wife sends me off on an errand to buy useless things like butter
(or something else... I’m not especially obsessed by  *butter*, I’m just giving an example...)
Despite the impression I have of wandering about in a forest full of all that’s superficial, with fluorescent orange mini price tags instead of leaves, and adverts everywhere, trying to get us to believe we need all this meaningless stuff to fill up our lives,
I like it, because you meet people (and *butter*!)

I was hesitating between cheap bread that looked hard to swallow and good bread where it was the price that was hard to swallow,
(Oh boy, my life really is too complicated!) When suddenly: WHAM! A lady greets me from the back.
It was the mom of one of my little Benjamin’s friends,
And we’re all set for the small talk:
- “How are you? What lovely weather we’re having.etc...”

Right in the midst of our superficial (yes, that as well) and extremely animated chatter, punctuated by piercing bursts of laughter,
BOOM! the Lord’s sweet voice (yes, Him again!) made me sit up and take notice of a joke she’d just casually come out with:
- “ha!ha! ha! in any case, all the men in my life always finish by dumping me sooner or later, hi!hi!hi!”
( we’re not talking about a a trash disposal unit (dumping me has a different meaning in this case)

I was seized by a tremendous compassion for her and I looked straight into her heart.
- “what did you just say?”

She pulled up sharp and in the middle of the store she started to cry. And that’s how I was able to talk to her about Jesus’ unconditional love for her...

In the street!
In the street, I met a guy with a limp, I knew that he’d had a tough life (alcohol, prison, comics). We chatted about everything and nothing at all when, out of the blue, BANG! I asked him:
- “would you like me to pray for your knee?”

(argh! What’s got hold of me today!? I’ve forgotten I’m not in church any more!). Surprised, he stammered:
-  “Eh? What?! Umm... if you want”

and there, standing on the sidewalk, I prayed out loud for him... not on my knees, shouting with all my force towards Jerusalem, just a simple prayer, keeping my eyes open so as not to embarrass him in front of any passers-by... Something shifted in his soul,  he was really touched (who cares about the knee anyway!)
it’s what I see in him whenever I come across him now...

At home!
The biscuits were already hot, just out of the oven, but…
without butter!

Alain

taken from « Date in the forest 1 »"
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Grandpa Paco leaves Spain for the first time; he comes to visit us in Switzerland.

He’s a calm, open person. It doesn’t matter how much time he has left, he shares it with others generously, selflessly. Together we built a dream tree-house in the big oak tree next to the house.

Going for a walk with him in the village is a real pleasure. This little man loves everything that passes before his eyes (the whole of Switzerland, in fact!); it’s very enjoyable being with him. However, he doesn’t speak a word of French, not the slightest thing, but he doesn’t give a hoot, so much so that it is almost something to behold.

For example, when we come across a man who is busy feeding begonias, geraniums or other exotic specimens in his garden with croquettes (yes, I know, you shouldn’t give beef to begonias!), Paco goes up to the fence and immediately starts up a conversation:

‘Hola ! Mira que flores tan bonitas teneis usted!’

Disconcerted, the amateur gardener retorts with something along the lines of:

‘Euh... sorry, I... no comprendo.’

So my grandpa gesticulates, points to the flowers in the garden to congratulate him on their beauty, ‘cos he thinks they are (of course...!) exceptional. The budding horticulturalist, touched by the compliment, gives him an embarrassed thank you (no need to know the language to understand a real thank you).

Grandpa Paco carries on straightaway, speaking about lots of other things (in Spanish) without being in the least bit bothered by the consternation of the man he is speaking to. The Swiss man, respectful by nature, concentrates in order to understand and reply as best he can. Removed from his conventional and rather tedious comfort zone of things left unsaid, there he is now, engaged in the adventure of a ‘discussion’ full of exotic colours.

So I am witness to the birth of a new kind of jargon, unique to them and which will only ever belong to them both. It’s made up of words borrowed from their two respective languages, large gestures nearing choreography, stammered phrases and reciprocal laughs. When my grandfather goes back to his walk where he left off, the two new pals warmly say and wave goodbye to each other. The gardener goes back to his plot, his nose in his flowers (it is well known that begonias kiss you on the nose if you feed them correctly), with an added smile (that must have brought back memories of his holidays).

That’s what my grandpa was like: everyone loved him (it was impossible to do otherwise).

Granddad’s loveliest present
Granddad’s tree-house is no more.
It was completely dismantled over time, but it has remained intact in my memory. And, strangely, despite the years that have gone by, the gratitude that I had for that exceptional present still lives in me.

Granddad is no more, either 
But he left me this fantastic lesson of life, which had nothing to do with school, by simply being himself. Watching him, I understood that the desire to enter into contact with your neighbour (as well as with those who live further away) is more important than the means of achieving it. Because a lack of means is often an excuse for not facing up to the fact that the real barriers are prejudices.

But the loveliest present that my granddad left me is, even more, an exceptional mother, who would not have been the same without him.

 

* It’s on this trip that he also sees the sea for the first time.

 

This article in: French   Spanich   German"
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  string(1063) "Les feuilles du bonheur
Aujourd’hui je traverse la forêt et c’est WOW!
Les feuilles dansent devant moi.
j’ai l’impression d’être un chef de guerre rentrant victorieux de ses batailles et accueilli avec des confettis… lol!
Non sérieux, ça a quelque chose d’émouvant… car ces feuilles ne tomberont qu’une seule fois! et 	c’est moi qui les aient vues… chaque instant de qualité dans nos vies est unique aussi, elles ne seront Jamais identiques: 
les regretter te tue, mais les kiffer aux présent te rends vivant.
(Là!!! Maintenant, juste là! regarde autour de toi examine les beaux côté de ta situation, c’est peut-être un aussi un de ces moments!)

Le cheval glorieux
Au sommet de la forêt, sur mon chemin. Je croise un cheval noir fougueux vraiment ma-gni-fi-que! Je ne peux m’empêcher d’en faire part à sa cavalière. Elle ne fait qu’un avec son destrier, et a quelque chose de digne, franchement c’est si beau. 
Elle me répond un accent de paysan du coin:
-Oui, oui, il est beau, mais kesk’il est con!"
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When God gets involved

 






It’s a veritable battle! I parry energetically but the enemy is stubborn and I’m feeling out of my depth. Despite my razor-sharp weapon, I can see no way out...But this is no sword I’m talking about, just a simple pencil, you see, I’m actually just a guy who draws for a living.

I try to update an old sketch, but the guy in the drawing’s having none of it. It doesn’t matter how much I rub him out and try to rework him, there’s always something that’s not quite right! It’s just that perfection is important to me, that’s all!

 – Oh Lord help me...

    I gaze at the drawing in question: it depicts Jesus, full of compassion, lending a hand to a prostitute and an alcoholic down and out (behind his back, a bunch of ‘religious’ people criticize him... slow handclap, guys!).

The visit

    I’m lost in my thoughts when the studio’s back door opens and a man walks in unsteadily and comes dangerously close to invading my personal space...

I recognize him, he’s a local painter who has something of a reputation as being ‘jinxed’ (in that he struggles to have his talent recognized).

He sits down at my right hand and looks at my drawing with haggard eyes:

 – Bah!  Your drawing’s far too fussy – too much going on! 

he throws out, before launching doggedly into his ‘critique’ which I receive in tandem with his beery fumes...both of which really suck ! I’ve now got two challenges to take on: the drawing itself and an artist!

Oh well... I get him a coffee.

 

Four pieces of cardboard

    He takes 4 pieces of cardboard from out of his pockets and puts them on the table. They’re of different sizes and all are the shape of a rectangle: 

 – This represents my life! 

He flourishes the largest piece of cardboard:

 – I want to give 60% of my life to God! 

He then points to the smaller pieces:

 – This means I need to cut back my painting time to 20%. I’m keeping 10% of my time for doing things around the home (like doing the laundry) and the other 10% is for... (I’m sorry, but I can’t remember what he said here... I know, I know, it’s pretty dumb of me, but that’s what happened).

Silence. 

I was touched by this man’s inner being. Contrary to all appearances, he too is longing for the spiritual. I see him in a different light now, and I look warmly at him...





The 5th element

    I grabbed a piece of cardboard that was bigger than any of his:

 – Look, Xyzwhg (not his real name)... let’s say this piece of cardboard is God, ok? I gather up all his little bits of life (the little pieces of cardboard) and place them on God (the large piece of cardboard)... (ok ? Do you get me?)

 – When you paint, paint for Him (like I try to do), make every painting an act of praise and a shout for joy that you can offer up to Him. And hope that the public would be touched by your paintings when they see them.

When you do your laundry, do it for Him so that when He visits you, your house smells good and your guests feel welcomed.

Your ‘whatwasitagain’, do it for Him, that way your empty ‘ dunnos ’ will instead be spaces filled with God... whatever you’ve got left, talk to Him about it...

‘Being’ is more important than ‘doing’ (because without a relationship with God, only death awaits). In short, whatever you do, let it be inspired by love!

Wow! The painter is stunned (suddenly stone cold sober!) as am I. Yikes! Did I really say all of those things?!...

Xyzwhg left the studio, diving deeply into his thoughts. I was pensive too, as I sat back down before my drawing...

 

A revelation 

I called on God to help me and He brought my drawing to life in front of me... (Luckily I hadn’t been drawing a three-headed dragon!) Just like the religious people in my picture, I’d started off by despising my neighbor... In the end, I got the better of my drawing! How? 

It was really very simple: 

I took the painter’s ‘critique’ and did every little thing he’d suggested...

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