Thomas Harris’sI’m OK—You’re OKand the Fragility of Human Relationships
One of the most influential books on human relationships published during the twentieth century was Thomas A. Harris’s I’m OK—You’re OK (1967). Based on the principles of Transactional Analysis developed by psychiatrist Eric Berne, Harris sought to explain why people so often misunderstand one another, become trapped in destructive patterns of behaviour, and struggle to communicate effectively.
His central message was both simple and profound. Healthy relationships begin when we recognise the worth and dignity of both ourselves and others. Rather than approaching life from positions of superiority, inferiority, blame, or rejection, Harris encouraged us to adopt the life position expressed in five memorable words:
“I’m OK—You’re OK.”
This does not suggest that people are perfect or that conflict can be avoided altogether. Rather, it recognises that every human being deserves respect, even when disagreements arise. The challenge is to understand what happens when relationships begin to unravel.
Most of us have experienced how quickly affection can give way to disappointment, frustration, or even anger. A friendship can cool because of a careless remark. A marriage can suffer through unspoken hurts. Families become divided over misunderstandings. Trust can be weakened by broken promises, wounded pride, or assumptions that are never questioned.
The journey from love to hate is often much shorter than we imagine.
Yet the reverse journey is also possible. Honest conversation, humility, forgiveness, and a willingness to listen can restore relationships that once seemed beyond repair.
The following poem reflects on that fragile boundary between two of our most powerful emotions.
ART BOOKS PUBLISHED BY ELISHEVA AND RONI MECHANIC — Available from AMAZON
Marc Chagall –– Israeli Artist
Bring Them Home!
The Wise Seek Him –– by Roni Mechanic, 2025 –––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––– Notice that the forth person in this painting is me. I am being inquisitive and exploring what the three wise men are endeavouring to do.
How Helen and Roni gave expression to the tragic loss of the 40 children murdered by Hamas on 7th October, 2023
Helen painted the images of children floating up into the sky. While Roni depicted grave stones as symbols of the murdered children. These stones are also seen floating heavenwards. Included are threeCyprus trees whichare often associated with burial grounds, as viewed in Roni’s painting.
Helen Burman, 2023
Roni Mechanic, 2023
What the Layers of Paint Say
By Roni Mechanic –– Inspired by recent abstract paintings.
Introduction
Colour sings, shape speaks, and lines are more than what the eye beholds— spirit traces echoes of the unseen. Kandinsky once glimpsed this truth.
So too the artist paints— not merely to show, but to sound, to let colour pray, to let praise breathe.
Each canvas becomes a quiet altar, each stroke, a whispered psalm— layered with longing, with wonder, with the hush of the holy.
Each gesture is a note, each hue a chord; the canvas a silent symphony— layered, rhythmic, poem and pulse, alive with something, just beyond the visual.
Like music felt through the body’s skin, the colours move.
They breathe, they weep and dance— an abstract language for the soul.
Layers of Sound
There are voices beneath the surface, beneath the brush and broken line— not loud, but present, like breath caught in linen, like Scripture sung in the dark.
A colour trembles. Another answers. They speak in tongues— of saffron, umber, and indigo— ancient arguments resolved in silence.
From dust and spirit, the tapestry is stretched— threads of mystery, tangled yet divine.
In the chambers of time, the pulse of nations stirred. Two heartbeats in one womb, two paths divided by a single cry.
Love and rivalry, covenant and exile— entwined like roots beneath ancestral soil.
The breath of prophecy passed through a mother’s pain—
Rebekah, torn by the war within, felt the future shift inside her womb: a tremor that would echo through the centuries.
Still today, in city streets and silent prayers, in borderlands and broken altars, the ancient wrestling continues.
The Artist’s Vision
The Creative Master made a choice, bringing forth sons and daughters— not merely of flesh, but of calling, of covenant, of light drawn from the womb of chaos.
Jacob and Esau— an eternal struggle, born in silence and strife. Rebekah bore more than children that day; she gave birth to a tension that shaped the world.
Jew and Arab— twin destinies entwined— still carry the weight of ancient blood and blessing.
Letters emerge—
ancient Chaldaic, Paleo-Hebrew,
and Aramaic, fragments of Babel’s broken tower:
Hebrew, Arabic, Greek, and Latin. Not merely differing tongues, but diverging destinies written in script.
Hebrew curves,
Roman bones, Greek questions carved
in broken stones–– lines of faith and empires, half-hidden, half-revealed, as if the Word were still being written in the dust of human longing.
Shattered pottery shards, mosaic fragments— like lost memories echoing from the past. Each piece a whisper of what was spoken. Each crack a vein of silence holding meaning.
These remnants speak in tongues of stone and flame, where history bleeds into symbol, and brokenness becomes design.
Alexander, Antiochus, Mattathias Maccabee— we watched empires rise,
then fall to dust and sea. Hebrew curves, Roman bones, Greek thoughts etched into exiled stones.
O seeker, sift the grains with care— beneath your feet, lies buried there. Lift your eyes, the thread still shines from ancient cloth to end of time.
Yeshua, royal, priestly strand, God’s own binding in the land. His wounds are knots that tie and hold the Torah, Spirit, and the gold.
And as the layers thickly paint, each story worn, both bold and faint, so too his presence, hidden deep, awaits the ones who seek and keep. The veil peels back, the colours blend— a sacred thread that has no end. Within the layers, truth is spun: Yeshua—G_D’s eternal Son.
In the artist’s hand, they find new order— not to erase the fracture, but to honour it. To make of the broken whole, and of the scattered, song.
Not Pictures, but Places
These are not pictures. They are places— maps of inner terrain where the soul remembers what the mind has forgotten.
Icons dissolve into abstraction, but the holy remains. A gesture becomes a sanctuary, a texture, a psalm.
In every layer: a question. In every mark:
A memory. In the space between: the whisper of the Spirit hovering, still creating.
An invisible creative Guiding Hand— the One who spoke, and there was light; form emerging from the void unknown— Tohu Vavohu, without form and void.
Just as the artist grasps for those creative sounds, so do we—
with brush, palette knife, sculptor’s clay, or chisel— tackling blank canvas, clay and wood, fashioning not from certainty, but from yearning.
From silence that longs to speak, from chaos seeking order, from shadows aching for the light. We echo the First Artisan— breathing life into dust and fiber, calling forth structure from texture, meaning from gesture, and hope from hue.
Each mark becomes an offering, each stroke, a fragment of prayer, each layer, a testament to the mystery of being, and the mercy of becoming.
For what is creation if not surrender— to the unseen voice, to the Spirit hovering still over waters–– deep and untamed?
To Touch the Hem
For the artist, for the worshipper:
And so, we paint, sculpt, write— not merely to create, but to commune.
Each gesture, each stroke of brush or word, is an act of reaching toward the unseen— to touch the hem of the garment of glory.
Fringes tipped with sky and light, swaying at the edge of divinity.
Tekhelet Returns
A slender blue thread, woven with white, has quietly returned— gracing the corners of prayer and cloth, almost unnoticed, until it is everywhere.
It crept in softly, like memory, like longing finding form— a whisper of blue sky against fields of white.
Now it swings from the tallit’s edge— a thread reborn.
Tekhelet once lost, now found–– in the rhythm of fingers
And still the voice speaks, calling for corners— marked with covenant. With the blue of heaven, the blue of remembering.
What was hidden in time has returned in colour— a renaissance of dye, a revival of meaning.
Not just a thread, but a promise— a whisper of redemption twisting through generations, binding earth to sky, to G_D.
And somewhere, a woman once reached through the crowd— to touch the fringe, the p’til tekhelet, [2] and found herself whole.
Layers of Paint Say: Thread of Heaven
A thread of blue, sky-breathed and deep, is woven where the edges sleep— on garments kissed by desert wind, a ribbon where the laws begin.
They said, “Remember, do not stray,” so G_D dyed sky into the clay. But who could find that holy hue where tides conceal and time withdrew?
The chilazon, a mystery’s shell, its dye once sought, untraceable, rose from depths where secrets sleep, the sea’s own shade the prophets keep.
Its blood—once hidden, now revealed— spoke of a covenant unsealed. So walked he once among the grain, where sandals stirred the dusty plain.
No one saw the thread he wore— it lay beneath the flesh he bore. A hidden Messiah—now unveiled. What is his name, once long concealed?
Who dares to name the Son of G_D, the treasure buried in the sod? A gleam beneath the desert’s hand, a secret woven through the sand.
Not pearl or gem held in the hand, but breath unstirred, divinely planned— a silence speaking through his death, a whisper stronger still than breath.
Tekhelet lost, now found anew— not in dye, but what is true. A thread not sewn on outer seams, but stitched within prophetic dreams.
Yeshua, royal, priestly strand, G_D’s own binding in the land. His wounds are knots that tie and hold the Torah, Spirit, and the gold. Lift your eyes, the thread still shines from ancient cloth to end of time.
And as the layers thickly paint each story worn, both faint and quaint, so too his presence, hidden deep, awaits the ones who seek and keep.
The veil peels back, the colours blend— a sacred thread that has no end. Within the layers, truth is spun: Yeshua—G_D’s eternal Son.
Unveiled
But who will dare to listen? To behold what once was hidden?
Then, we did not know or see— but now, with unveiled faces, we perceive what was veiled in paint, wood, and clay.
Drawing near in wonder, a new sound awaits those willing to listen. Ears unstopped, eyes opened in amazement.
For what was forgotten is now being declared.
We, with new perception, see colours bright illuminating the way—
ahead and beyond.
A hope recreated— for all to see, to hear, and to know.
Roni at the entrance to the Israel Museum –– Jerusalem – 2023
Exploring Expressionistic Painting:WHAT LAYERS OF PAINT SAY…
CLICK ON THE LINK BELOW TO LISTEN TO THIS PODCAST:
ART BOOKS PUBLISHED BY ELISHEVA AND RONI MECHANIC — Available from AMAZON
Marc Chagall –– Israeli Artist
Bring Them Home!
The Wise Seek Him –– by Roni Mechanic, 2025 –––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––– Notice that the forth person in this painting is me. I am being inquisitive and exploring what the three wise men are endeavouring to do.
How Helen and Roni gave expression to the tragic loss of the 40 children murdered by Hamas on 7th October, 2023
Helen painted the images of children floating up into the sky. While Roni depicted grave stones as symbols of the murdered children. These stones are also seen floating heavenwards. Included are threeCyprus trees whichare often associated with burial grounds, as viewed in Roni’s painting.
Helen Burman, 2023
Roni Mechanic, 2023
What the Layers of Paint Say
By Roni Mechanic –– Inspired by recent abstract paintings.
Introduction
Colour sings, shapes speaks, and lines are more than what the eye beholds— spirit traces echoes of the unseen. Wassily Kandinsky once glimpsed this truth.
So too the artist paints— not merely to show, but to sound, to let colour pray, to let praise breathe.
Each canvas becomes a quiet altar, each stroke, a whispered psalm— layered with longing, with wonder, with the hush of the holy.
Each gesture is a note, each hue a chord; the canvas a silent symphony— layered, rhythmic, poem and pulse, alive with something, just beyond the visual.
Like music felt through the body’s skin, the colours move.
They breathe, they weep and dance— an abstract language for the soul.
Layers of Sound
There are voices beneath the surface, beneath the brush and broken line— not loud, but present, like breath caught in linen, like Scripture sung in the dark.
A colour trembles. Another answers. They speak in tongues— of saffron, umber, and indigo— ancient arguments resolved in silence.
From dust and spirit, the tapestry is stretched— threads of mystery, tangled yet divine.
In the chambers of time, the pulse of nations stirred. Two heartbeats in one womb, two paths divided by a single cry.
Love and rivalry, covenant and exile— entwined like roots beneath ancestral soil.
The breath of prophecy passed through a mother’s pain— Rebekah, torn by the war within, felt the future shift inside her womb: a tremor that would echo through the centuries.
Still today, in city streets and silent prayers, in borderlands and broken altars, the ancient wrestling continues.
The Artist’s Vision
The Creative Master made a choice, bringing forth sons and daughters— not merely of flesh, but of calling, of covenant, of light drawn from the womb of chaos.
Jacob and Esau— an eternal struggle, born in silence and strife. Rebekah bore more than children that day; she gave birth to a tension that shaped the world.
Jew and Arab— twin destinies entwined— still carry the weight of ancient blood and blessing.
Letters emerge— ancient Chaldaic, Paleo-Hebrew, and Aramaic, fragments of Babel’s broken tower:
Hebrew, Arabic, Greek, and Latin. Not merely differing tongues, but diverging destinies written in script.
Hebrew curves, Roman bones, Greek questions carved in broken stones–– lines of faith and empires, half-hidden, half-revealed, as if the Word were still being written in the dust of human longing.
Shattered pottery shards, mosaic fragments— like lost memories echoing from the past. Each piece a whisper of what was spoken. Each crack a vein of silence holding meaning.
These remnants speak in tongues of stone and flame, where history bleeds into symbol, and brokenness becomes design.
Alexander, Antiochus, Mattathias Maccabee— we watched empires rise, then fall to dust and sea. Hebrew curves, Roman bones, Greek thoughts etched into exiled stones.
O seeker, sift the grains with care— beneath your feet, lies buried there. Lift your eyes, the thread still shines from ancient cloth to end of time.
Yeshua, royal, priestly strand, God’s own binding in the land. His wounds are knots that tie and hold the Torah, Spirit, and the gold.
And as the layers thickly paint, each story worn, both bold and faint, so too his presence, hidden deep, awaits the ones who seek and keep.
The veil peels back, the colours blend— a sacred thread that has no end. Within the layers, truth is spun: Yeshua—G_D’s eternal Son.
In the artist’s hand, they find new order— not to erase the fracture, but to honour it.
To make of the broken whole, and of the scattered, song. Not Pictures, but Places These are not pictures.
They are places— maps of inner terrain where the soul remembers what the mind has forgotten. Icons dissolve into abstraction, but the holy remains.
A gesture becomes a sanctuary, a texture, a psalm. In every layer: a question. In every mark:
A memory.
In the space between: the whisper of the Spirit hovering, still creating.
An invisible creative Guiding Hand— the One who spoke, and there was light; form emerging from the void unknown— Tohu Vavohu, without form and void.
Just as the artist grasps for those creative sounds, so do we— with brush, palette knife, sculptor’s clay, or chisel— tackling blank canvas, clay and wood, fashioning not from certainty, but from yearning.
From silence that longs to speak, from chaos seeking order, from shadows aching for the light.
We echo the First Artisan— breathing life into dust and fiber, calling forth structure from texture, meaning from gesture, and hope from hue.
Each mark becomes an offering, each stroke, a fragment of prayer, each layer, a testament to the mystery of being, and the mercy of becoming.
For what is creation if not surrender— to the unseen voice, to the Spirit hovering still over waters–– deep and untamed?
To Touch the Hem
For the artist, for the worshipper: And so, we paint, sculpt, write— not merely to create, but to commune.
Each gesture, each stroke of brush or word, is an act of reaching toward the unseen— to touch the hem of the garment of glory.
Fringes tipped with sky and light, swaying at the edge of divinity.
Tekhelet Returns
A slender blue thread, woven with white, has quietly returned— gracing the corners of prayer and cloth, almost unnoticed, until it is everywhere.
It crept in softly, like memory, like longing finding form— a whisper of blue sky against fields of white.
Now it swings from the tallit’s edge— a thread reborn.
Tekhelet once lost, now found–– in the rhythm of fingers tying sacred knots.
This week we read:
“Speak to the Children of Israel…” And still the voice speaks, calling for corners— marked with covenant.
With the blue of heaven, the blue of remembering. What was hidden in time has returned in colour— a renaissance of dye, a revival of meaning.
Not just a thread, but a promise— a whisper of redemption twisting through generations, binding earth to sky, to G_D.
And somewhere, a woman once reached through the crowd— to touch the fringe, the p’til tekhelet, and found herself whole.
Layers of Paint Say:
Thread of Heaven–– a thread of blue, sky-breathed and deep, is woven where the edges sleep— on garments kissed by desert wind, a ribbon where the laws begin.
They said, “Remember, do not stray,” so G_D dyed sky into the clay. But who could find that holy hue where tides conceal and time withdrew?
The chilazon, a mystery’s shell, its dye once sought, untraceable, rose from depths where secrets sleep, the sea’s own shade the prophets keep. Its blood—once hidden, now revealed— spoke of a covenant unsealed.
So walked he once among the grain, where sandals stirred the dusty plain. No one saw the thread he wore— it lay beneath the flesh he bore.
A hidden Messiah—now unveiled.
What is his name, once long concealed? Who dares to name the Son of G_D, the treasure buried in the sod? A gleam beneath the desert’s hand, a secret woven through the sand.
Not pearl or gem held in the hand, but breath unstirred, divinely planned— a silence speaking through his death, a whisper stronger still than breath.
Tekhelet lost, now found anew— not in dye, but what is true. A thread not sewn on outer seams, but stitched within prophetic dreams.
Yeshua, royal, priestly strand, G_D’s own binding in the land. His wounds are knots that tie and hold the Torah, Spirit, and the gold. Lift your eyes, the thread still shines from ancient cloth to end of time.
And as the layers thickly paint each story worn, both faint and quaint, so too his presence, hidden deep, awaits the ones who seek and keep.
The veil peels back, the colours blend— a sacred thread that has no end. Within the layers, truth is spun: Yeshua—G_D’s eternal Son.
Unveiled
But who will dare to listen? To behold what once was hidden?
Then, we did not know or see— but now, with unveiled faces, we perceive what was veiled in paint, wood, and clay.
Drawing near in wonder, a new sound awaits those willing to listen. Ears unstopped, eyes opened in amazement.
For what was forgotten is now being declared. We, with new perception, see colours bright illuminating the way— ahead and beyond.
A hope recreated— for all to see, to hear, and to know. Amen, and Amen. Hallelujah!
Mindlessness – ‘blow your mind,’ is a popular expression to take drugs, get high, etc.
In contrast Think about what you are contemplating – The thing that you are considering to act upon have consequences. Love, peace, and concord, verse hate, violence, and discord are two path that are set out before us as individuals.
So, what’s it to be? While others may influence you to choose their preferred path, ultimately, we are the one’s that must decide which way to go!
Deuteronomy 30:15-20 English Standard Version:
15 “See, I have set before you today life and good, death and evil. 16 If you obey the commandments of the Lord your God[a] that I command you today, by loving the Lord your God, by walking in his ways, and by keeping his commandments and his statutes and his rules,[b] then you shall live and multiply, and the Lord your God will bless you in the land that you are entering to take possession of it. 17 But if your heart turns away, and you will not hear, but are drawn away to worship other gods and serve them, 18 I declare to you today, that you shall surely perish. You shall not live long in the land that you are going over the Jordan to enter and possess. 19 I call heaven and earth to witness against you today, that I have set before you life and death, blessing and curse. Therefore choose life, that you and your offspring may live, 20 loving the Lord your God, obeying his voice and holding fast to him, for he is your life and length of days, that you may dwell in the land that the Lord swore to your fathers, to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob, to give them.”
I have decided to follow Yeshua – Jesus – It is probably one of the most important decisions that you can make in your life.
I have decided to follow Jesus;
I have decided to follow Jesus; I have decided to follow Jesus; No turning back, no turning back.
2. Tho’ none go with me, I still will follow, Tho’ none go with me I still will follow, Tho’ none go with me, I still will follow; No turning back, no turning back.
3. My cross I’ll carry, till I see Jesus; My cross I’ll carry till I see Jesus, My cross I’ll carry till I see Jesus; No turning back, No turning back.
4. The world behind me, the cross before me, The world behind me, the cross before me; The world behind me, the cross before me; No turning back, no turning back.
A way back…What do I mean when I speak of a way back? If we have misgivings, doubts, second-thoughts, or regrets about a decision that you have made, then you don’t have to accept that you made a wrong choice. You can attempt to find a way back. In biblical terms, we refer to this as ‘repentance.’ Repentance is multifaceted – it has many dimensions to it, and also it potentially carries deep implication, that will not only have a personal outcome, but may well influence the live of many others.
The big one, and the smaller ones…What do I mean by saying that there is a big one, and there are small ones? The big one – is when we recognise that our relationship with our Heavenly Father is broken, and we make the decision to repent!
Repentance involves…Confession – admitting that we are wrong, and have done wrong. Turning back, or turning around are part of the vital process. Having regret is only the beginning of the process, and many get stuck at first base and never progress to make a home run to use a baseball metaphor.
We began by saying, ‘Your mind matter!’ The philosopher Rene Descartes said, cogito ergo sum literally mean?
‘I think, therefore I am‘ – cogito ergo sum
The Latin cogito, ergo sum, usually translated into English as “I think, therefore I am“, is the “first principle” of René Descartes’s philosophy. While his viewpoint is quite profound, it does not contain the whole truth! His is a purely human response to ur being, or existence. He has missed our God’s point of view – God say something substantially different about our existence – he created us to not only be, but supremely to love him, worship, and adore him – in other words, that our live may glorify him always!
Cogito, ergo sum, dictum coined by the French mathematician and philosopher René Descartes in his Discourse on Method (1637) as a first step in demonstrating the attainability of certain knowledge. It is the only statement to survive the test of his methodic doubt. The statement is indubitable, as Descartes argued in the second of his six Meditations on First Philosophy (1641), because even if an all-powerful demon were to try to deceive him into thinking that he exists when he does not, he would have to exist in order for the demon to deceive him. Therefore, whenever he thinks, he exists. Furthermore, as he argued in his replies to critics in the second edition (1642) of the Meditations, the statement “I am” (sum) expresses an immediate intuition, not the conclusion of a piece of reasoning (regarding the steps of which he could be deceived), and is thus indubitable. However, in a later work, the Principles of Philosophy (1644), Descartes suggested that the cogito is indeed the conclusion of a syllogism whose premises include the propositions that he is thinking and that whatever thinks must exist.
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Following the Jewish Jesus: A Cross-Cultural Ministry Paperback – 30 Dec. 2023
This book is a guide for those beginning a lifetime of cross-cultural ministry and for anyone wanting to spend some time in a cross cultural situation such as a short term mission. It includes some Social Anthroplogy background as well as an understanding of cross-cultural communication and approaching ministry in a new cultual setting. It will help the reader to understand world view and how to overcome the negative effects of adjusting to a new culture and come to an understanding of the customs and outlook on life of a new community of people. Included are insights into understanding the Jewish community as well as several other cultural groups.The Biblical feasts are included as well as an order of service for a Messianic Jewish Passover. Personal anecdotes are included of the author’s experience of cross-cultural ministry and life experiences in ministry.
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