See also...

See also my blog named..."When Truth Matters Most"...at http://hughman1.blogspot.com/

U.S. Is Approaching a Spiritual Death.

Redemption Within Reach for the American Empire
By Jason Miller

Our dark cabal of Neocon leaders, several of whom have held positions of great power under Reagan, Bush I, and now Bush II, are perpetuating unrestrained expansion of the American Empire while utilizing Orwellian propaganda to convince its subjects that they are still living in the "land of the free".

This article is a "must read."

http://www.informationclearinghouse.info/article9849.htmhttp://snipurl.com/h1t5

Armageddon?

Paul Craig Roberts :

Get Ready for World War III

VP Cheney has already ordered the U.S. Strategic Command to come up with plans to strike Iran with tactical nuclear weapons.

http://www.antiwar.com/roberts/?articleid=6936

Like Silt in a River

"What no one seemed to notice . . . was the ever widening gap . . . between the government and the people. . . And it became always wider. . . the whole process of its coming into being, was above all diverting, it provided an excuse not to think for people who did not want to think anyway . . . (it) gave us some dreadful, fundamental things to think about . . .and kept us so busy with continuous changes and 'crises' and so fascinated . . . by the machinations of the 'national enemies,' without and within, that we had no time to think about these dreadful things that were growing, little by little, all around us. . . Each step was so small, so inconsequential, so well explained or, on occasion, 'regretted,' that unless one understood what the whole thing was in principle, what all these 'little measures'. . . must some day lead to, one no more saw it developing from day to day than a farmer in his field sees the corn growing. . . .Each act is worse than the last, but only a little worse. You wait for the next and the next. You wait for one great shocking occasion, thinking that others, when such a shock comes, will join you in resisting somehow. You don't want to act, or even talk, alone. You don't want to 'go out of your way to make trouble.' . . . But the one great shocking occasion, when tens or hundreds or thousands will join with you, never comes. That's the difficulty. The forms are all there, all untouched, all reassuring, the houses, the shops, the jobs, the mealtimes, the visits, the concerts, the cinema, the holidays. But the spirit, which you never noticed because you made the lifelong mistake of identifying it with the forms, is changed. Now you live in a world of hate and fear, and the people who hate and fear do not even know it themselves. When everyone is transformed, no one is transformed. . . .You have accepted things you would not have accepted five years ago, a year ago, things your father . . . could never have imagined.” From Milton Mayer, They Thought They Were Free, the Germans, 1938-45 (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1955)

Into the Mountain by the voice of one crying in the wilderness

You shall have a song
As in a night when a holy festival is kept.
And gladness of heart as when one goes with a flute,
To come into the mountain of the LORD,
To the Mighty One of Israel. Isaiah 30:29

"For on My holy mountain, on the mountain height of Israel," says the LORD GOD, "there all the house of Israel, all the of them in the land, shall serve Me; there I will accept them, and there I will require your offerings and the firstfruits of your sacrifices, together with all your holy things. Ezekial 20:40

Now it shall come to pass in the latter days
That the mountain of the LORD's house
Shall be established on the top of the mountains,
And shall be exalted above the hills:
And all nations shall flow to it.

Many people shall come and say,
"Come and let us go to the mountain of the LORD,
To the house of the GOD of Jacob;
He will teach us His ways,
And we shall walk in His paths."
For out of Zion shall go forth the law,
And the word of the LORD from Jerusalem.
Isaiah 2:2,3

And seeing the multitudes, He went up into the mountain, and when He was seated His disciples came to Him.
Then He opened His mouth and taught them...
Matthew 5:1,2



Into the Mountain
By Hugh K. Lipsius


There was a time long ago when I thought I knew what love was; when I thought I knew how to love; when I thought what I was giving WAS…love. Yet I was sorely mistaken. It was not love at all. At least not the love I know today. Rather, it was a vain attempt at love, a self seeking love that needed to know it was received in order to return in kind, or it was unwilling to present itself. It gave only so that it could take for itself.

In the past I searched for objects of my affections, things outside of myself, a seeking and a quest that spanned many years of my life, only to end in frustration time and times and a half time again for what seemed to be an elusive creation. All too often it left me barren, dry, and unfulfilled. It was a search that left me questioning my own ability to love. However, it left alone my capacity and desire for it as though it wanted to be found…but on its own terms.

Why then did it seem that all my efforts failed? Each time it left me hurt and hurting those whom I attempted to love. Each attempt produced an excitement that would bring me to a pinnacle of loneliness before I fell, crashing to the ground once again in disappointment, fear, shame, and despair. Yet, once this took place, a yearning to search again would return and my quest would begin anew.

But why? Why was I always left standing alone atop that mountain peak, and in each end preferring almost to jump off rather than remain; preferring to die rather than stand alone in the heights? I had done this over and over again, never fully understanding why, yet never losing the yearning to try again until I learned what I was after…that is, until I felt I no longer had the strength to climb that mountain again…and yet, I did. I climbed it anyway; despite my fears, despite my misapprehensions, intent on proving to others that my love for them was all that mattered to me…and all that should matter to them.

This time though, as I dug and clawed and worked my way up the side of that mountain, destined for the top, I began to really question my ability to succeed, or even why I was attempting it again in the first place. I knew I could never climb high enough, and if I got to the top, I knew I wouldn’t be able to see a thing because the clouds would obscure my vision. This time as I climbed, I could hear the voices of those I left below, calling me, pleading with me to come down. They assured me that they loved me, yet in my stubbornness I continued to climb still higher. I thought, “This is my mountain. I will conquer it. Only I can sit at its top. It wasn’t their love down there that mattered. I would never be worthy of it unless I succeeded to the top. I had to sit on top of this mountain in order that all could see what I was willing to do to EARN their love. This way I could look down on them from the heights, to be far away from their love, because unless I made this climb, I would never be worthy to receive it, and so, to me, once again their love would be worthless.”

For some reason, the mountain seemed so much higher this time, the obstacles so much greater. Yet, as the voices down below reached my ears with the words, “But WE love YOU,” it only served to spur me on with a greater effort to climb still higher, putting distance between my love and theirs, until finally the voices grew silent. Once again I was left with my head in the clouds, apart from all that was dear. I could no longer hear the pleas to come down, or even see the faces that made them. And then, as in my past quests, once the voices grew silent and the faces could no longer be seen, that same loneliness began to creep in. With its icy fingers that curled around my heart it made death preferable over staying atop this mountain. I was in a place where I could not even judge distance correctly. I could not perceive the miles between one peak and the next. I was so far up in the clouds that at any given moment, I was standing at a shear drop off, unawares of my danger. I could SEE nothing from up here. Then, why…why was I even here again…what made me come to this place one last time? I felt as though I was standing between two eternities…past and future…heaven and hell…life and death.

When I reached the top this time, I just laid there for awhile, exhausted from the climb. Tiredness had come over me…one that I had never felt before…an emptiness I had never known. I wanted to cry. For the first time in years of seeking I wanted to shed so many tears from my heart. I wanted to purge myself of all the rage and frustration… the yearning… the disappointment… sorrow and fear. It was as though the whole mountain began to shake beneath me. My body was still trembling from the sheer effort of the climb. It was a climb that wore me out…that left me weak…that left me spent from effort. All of these served to make me forget why I even attempted to make the climb in the first place. What had I gained? What was I looking for? Why was I here? Where were the ones I climbed this mountain for in the first place? Why was I so alone on this mountain peak? Again? What did I need to learn?

As anger rose up inside me; that old familiar frustration began to bubble and boil and ferment inside me until it exploded into a primal, guttural, desperate scream… “See how much I love you,” I shouted from the heights. “But what...what, I say, have you ever done for me?” I shouted these same words over and over again for hours until I could no longer speak…but there was no one around to hear them. The empty expanse just seemed to absorb all that I had left to give, absorbing the words until they trailed off into little more than a whimper…”See… how… much… I… love… you.” … no response…only empty silence.

For a long time I just lay there, exhausted atop this great mountain peak, looking out across the great, empty darkness yet seeing nothing, small and more alone than I’d ever been before. For the longest time I just laid there in exhaustion before I began to perceive something terrible. Faces swirled about; faces of all those whom I convinced myself that I loved, whirling and spinning round and about. I tried to ignore them, but it was from their midst that I could hear the voices of them, a mixture of accusations mixed with tones of pleas and cries.

“See how much we loved you,” they moaned. “Can’t you see what you rejected? You were all that mattered to us. But you thought your love was all that mattered. You thought you could love, but you wouldn’t accept the love we had to give to you. You pretended as if ours never counted for anything, it didn’t fit your way. And now, there you lay, atop your heap of ravaged souls, all pitiful and filthy on your mountain of pride and we’re supposed to care…and we do, but you still refuse to.”

“What then...was our love to you not good enough for you? Or do you know something that we don’t…that you’re not good enough for our love? We never thought that way. We tried always to love you, but for some reason you refused what we tried to give. So, what makes you think that your love towards us is any better than what we try to offer? What makes you think yours is so grand? If you think it’s so great, then you can just keep it for yourself. We need someone to give our love to and obviously, you’re not it. You don’t want ours…you only want to feel like you’re giving yours. It’s not that great anyway…God’s is more…we’ve been hurt over and over by yours and that’s not what real, true love ever does…it never hurts. So you can just keep what you have and are trying to give, because you wanted the mountain more than you wanted us. You thought you had something to prove but in the end you made us worthless to what that was. Come down off of your mountain. It only separates you from all that really should matter.”

“What does really matter?”

What does really matter? That question rolled through my mind like thunder as I saw the swirling mass of faces spinning in my heart, in my mind, above me now in all that ever mattered. If I could only…

The mountain I stood atop suddenly began to quake. It swirled and shook and a great voice from a whirlwind overhead said, “Get down out of this mountain, son of man, and daughter of iniquity.”

In fear and trembling I began to make my way down from that mountain peak, running, stumbling, falling head long towards disaster as this mountain trembled with anticipation. I tried desperately this time to keep my feet under me, but to no avail. Losing my foundation, I tumbled and bounced, slid and rolled, scraped and grinded until eventually I found myself at the bottom of this heap of ruin to all that I’d ever attempted in the past.

For a moment all was still and I just lay there, silent. No sound could reach my ears. No thought could expose itself to my heart. I just lay there for days, unable to move long enough to nourish myself. And yet, strength found its way back to me as I finally staggered on feeble knees and stood once again, covered in filth and dirt, parched to the drying and dieing of my soul. The very bones in my body seemed to ache and groan within.

Now at the bottom of the mountain, I fully expected to see those for whom I thought I climbed this mountain for waiting with open arms to greet me, to help me, to hold me up again. I fully expected there to be someone there to give me a drink in order that I might wet my parched lips, moisten my dry heart, to tell me that they were glad to see me and that they still loved me. A love that I was now so desperate to receive.

I found no one; not a soul to comfort me or for me to tell of my foolishness for ever having climbed the mountain in the first place. No one to share my relief for being down in the valley where I belonged. No one…only myself and just as much alone as I was at the top of the mountain. The only ones present were me…and the mountain. And the mountain refused to yield…one that had consumed all of my strength in my many efforts to conquer its peaks. A mountain that had always left me without anyone as I stood at its base looking up, alone at the bottom. The objects of my affection had all left and without them, the mountain had lost its purpose. It was no longer worth conquering, defeating, climbing, subduing. No longer did I desire to have dominion over it, to sit on its peak as though it were a kingly throne to lord from. It had lost its purpose and had become something I loathed.

As I stood alone at its base, all I wanted to do was curse this mountain, but I knew somehow that it was not to blame. I knew that I had only myself to blame for the many failed attempts to conquer it. So rather than curse its heights, I fell down on my knees before it, and with great tears in my eyes, I looked up beyond its peak, into the wide expanse of clouds that surrounded it and I prayed, “God, look down upon me and see what foolishness I’ve become.”

Again the mountain shook.

With fire and great clouds of smoke belching from its top, a voice from within beckoned me to enter the mountain, a command I was too frightened to obey; a command I trembled from, and in an attempt to escape it; I turned and tried to run. But there was no escape, as though my feet were mired in clay, as though I were bound in shackles. The arms of two strong angles lifted me up and carried me into the mouth of a cave at the base of this place, and there they left me in a cage.

I was there for what seemed an eternity, not really seeing anything but hearing many sounds. Clanking doors, echoing footsteps, and a multitude of voices reverberating through the corridors and distant chambers. I heard too, a moaning, and at first I couldn’t tell where it came from until I realized it came from within my heart.

Eventually my eyes began to adjust to the darkness. I saw the faces of others like me; faces that were sullen, even contorted from the agony they felt. Taskmasters herded us from chamber to chamber, gradually separating us inside this mountain at its base until each was alone in his space. Physically I could feel nothing, only lonely, hopeless despair, and an agony so sharp it was as though I had been thrust through with a sword. I didn’t know whether it was day or night, nor even did I care. I shrank from the thoughts before me as my body seemed to separate itself from my soul. The darkness of despair seemed to fill my world and I became invisible to the vacant look of those all around me, as they too became invisible to me. Only their presence was felt and the agony we shared.

After a time, men would come, and one by one remove these ravaged souls to somewhere. I could not determine where, but I was soon to find out as it was my turn for them to come for me. Not knowing where we were going, I drifted silently between two men, one before me, and one behind me as we wound our way still further into the bowls of the mountain. Still bound in chains, we traveled through many corridors that echoed every sound.

Eventually, these men handed me over to a gate keeper who opened a gate and told me to step inside, which I did. No sooner had I done this, when the gate crashed shut behind me, locking me in with a sound that reverberated through the corridors for quite some time. A sound it seemed that never really came to its end, but rather kept repeating like a broken record skipping over its grooves and fading off in the distance. A sharp sound of finality that continued to play in my memory long after it had finally ceased. For days it was all that my mind could hear, all it could focus on, all that broke the silence within me.

Eventually though, other thoughts began to slowly creep in, replacing the noise of the gate crashing shut. My disembodied soul just lay there next to the flesh that had been striped from around it. It rose over my flesh, looking down upon it, waiting for it to stir, to show some signs of life. But it just laid there motionless, starring out through the vacant eyes of death; flesh that at one time served me…or that I served. I don’t know which. But know, there it was, motionless, lifeless, dead. And here I was, a soul caged beside it, my only companion. It gave me no comfort. It could do little for me now, and so with great tears of sorrow, I wept. Rivers of tears did I weep. My soul mourned over my flesh and for the love it would never know. I pitied it for all I had done, or had not done. I pitied it for all I had put it through in not bringing it into submission to what I longed for the most, which was to receive what I thought was mine only to give. To rejoice in acknowledgement for what others desired to share. To allow it gratitude to be expressed towards another. To gain the love I so desired to give.

Wait a minute…wasn’t that me lying there? What about the love I’d never know? Wasn’t it my love that was all that mattered as though I had ownership, to give as I saw fit? But now my flesh lay there dead, never having received what I had tried so valiantly to give, pushing away instead every effort by anyone who attempted to give to me something I was too unworthy to receive. But then, how could I give something that I never knew because I refused to receive it. How could I give what I never possessed to give in the first place? What was I trying to give, really? What was I trying to do? What were all those wasted efforts? What was I really trying to look for? How would I recognize it once I found it? What good would it do me now?

The questions began to spin through my soul with a tremendous force. Faster and faster they whirled while a sense of chaos and confusion, condemnation and dread seemed to consume me. Loneliness, despair, desperation, fear, anger, guilt, remorse, sorrow, agony,; all gripped me in an ever tightening swirl that threatened to carry me away for good, shatter me into a million pieces, and scatter me to the furthest reaches and outer darkness of the universe, a giant pit that seemed to open before me, ready to swallow me up forever. The faces of everyone I knew shinned bright and I saw both bitter tears and mocking laughter. Time stood still.

As I looked through the whirling mass of thoughts and emotions, memories and faces, I could see my body still laying there, trying to stir. Its parched lips began to move and a hand reached up in final strength. Words began to form, barely audible but that finally escaped its throat. I saw tears rolling from its eyes, still shut as if in fervent prayer, “Jesus, please, help me,” came the plea at last.

In the suddenness of that very moment, the raging swirl that surrounded my soul immediately ceased, and I sensed the presence of a quiet calm, a peace such as I’ve never known nor could ever explain. Considering for a moment the torrent that preceded this moment, this calm, this peace, my attention was drawn to it immediately as if in total submission. Awestruck and in fear, all I could do was to hear. Like a gentle breeze floating in as a dream, I heard a soft and gentle voice tell me, “It’s time to sleep now.”

Though the words I heard were like sweetest music, bringing comfort to my soul, I feared not to obey them, and so, I laid my weary soul down next to the dead flesh of the man I once was and slept. It was a heavenly sleep, soulful, giving me much rest that new no anxious dreams, no haunting memories of days gone by, no fearful thoughts of what lay ahead. Only sleep. No voices to condemn an already burdened heart like a burning lake of fire. Just sweet and blissful sleep. Salvation come. Peace on earth. Good will towards men. Immanuel.
Chapter Two


I’m not sure how long I slept: a day, two, maybe three. I don’t recall. I have no memory of this time at all; only that I slept.

Upon waking from this brief rest, I felt fully refreshed and whole, in body, mind spirit, heart, and soul, as though made into something brand new. It was a time of refreshing, a time for renewing strength. It was the seventh day. And yet, I felt that I was at a crossroad in life, still toeing a line between two eternities, the past and the future, heaven and hell.

I sat there for a long moment on the edge of my steel hard bed, still in my cage. My arms were wrapped around my bosom as if in an embrace. Doubled over, I just rocked back and forth, cherishing the warmth within me. Now, I had been well rested in the past. I would normally have bound to my feet, invigorated, ready to meet whatever challenge the day had in store. But this morning was different. I preferred instead to simply enjoy the moment, determined not to lose it. I felt a peace and calm reassurance such as I’ve never known. A sense of awe and a feeling that I would never be alone again, no matter what lay ahead. Something that ended my search, or perhaps renewed it in the right direction. It was a knowing that this is what I had been seeking after all my life and had finally found. How I was able to recognize it so assuredly, I’m not quite sure. It was beyond my reasoning, passing all understanding, but I did recognize it for that and was grateful for having finally found it…or for it having finally found me. I uttered for the first time a barely audible thank you to the God I had scarcely perceived in the past, but suddenly now I did and could not help but to fully believe in.

Not quite sure what lay ahead of me, I surrendered all future events into the hands of the power that saved me. Everything I worked for, everything I struggled for, everything I fought for, lived for, and in the end…everything I died for was gone. I had squandered it all away in my many vain attempts to climb a mountain that could never bring me happiness, but instead brought me only misery, loneliness, suffering, and in the end, murderous shame. Every crutch that I had ever used to build this mountain of vain hopes and dreams unfulfilled were no where to be found. I was free of them all, and in their place was something of a greater value than any vain thing ever hoped for. It was worthy of protecting as it worked to protect me. I held on to it for dear life, clinging to it with all I had. And so, I began to pray.

In this cage, in the bowels of the mountain, apart from the world and in silent revere I would pray. Crudely at first and never quite able to find the right words to express what my heart knew, I began with words I remember from when I was only a child, as though I was a child again. “Our Father, who art in heaven…Now I lay me down to sleep…Yeah, though I walk through the valley…,” those were the words I prayed. And there were words that answered me, saying, “Don’t look back.” So I didn’t.

It was not long before a light began to appear in my heart, as though it was a star in the heavens, shinning bright, and for the next few weeks I followed it through darkest night, focusing my eyes upon it so as not to lose the flicker of its flame. I refused to take my eyes off of it as it guided me to a little town called Bethlehem. There a Child was born in the House of Bread and this Child became that light.

That day a man appeared to me. He gave me a small book which I began to read with palms open and facing upward. In the words I read another man appeared who said, “Follow Me.” So I did. Not knowing where we were going, but knowing who He was, I left all my other thoughts behind and followed Him.

He asked me what it was that I was seeking and so I said, “Teacher, where are You staying?” And He said, “Come and see for yourself.” So I went to see.

We entered into the deepest depths of the mountain that I had been trying to climb, and He began to show me greater things than I’d ever known.

We seemed to take a circular route around a body of water. All along the way there were places that we stopped to rest. We entered houses that had many different things taking place inside them. Some of the scenes that played before me were too terrible to look upon, having pushed them far back into the mountain long ago. If not for the One whom accompanied me, I would have willingly left them there. If not for this One by my side, I’m sure I would have turned and fled from these places. Not all though, for some were good and brought gladness to my heart. But for the moment, the place we were in was one that I hoped never to visit again.

“What is this place,” I asked? He explained saying, “This is the Wilderness of Sin. It lies between humbleness and desolation. In it belong your own sins that, unless you look upon them, confess them and forsake them, they will never be cast into the Sea of Forgetting.”

As we traveled tent by tent through this place, the sorrow in my heart grew heavy; so heavy in fact that I thought I would collapse from its weight. There was a blackness that I could recall quite clearly, one that was not too very far away. But it was then that His strong arms folded around me, lifting me up off of my feet until I was able to continue on. The whole time we traveled He spoke words of assurance that gave me strength and courage to face the next tent. As we entered each tent, I sorrowfully confessed that I was the one to blame for the condition it was left in. He graciously forgave me, while cautioning me to never return this way again. I felt my heart grow lighter as we moved along this way, until finally I felt the burden of my sins being lifted. I looked at the face of my Companion, and for an instant it took on a grotesque pallor, a blood streaked shadow of the beauty I had beheld. There was a sudden flash, an expression of agony before it finally returned to what I had seen at the first. This made me think deeply about what we had just accomplished, and I was relieved that we seemed to be moving on.

As we crested the top of a hill I was tempted to turn around to see the town we were leaving one last time, but I was cautioned against it and once again told to “never look back.” He told me that the town was gone, nothing was left except a desolate wilderness, and that the light in its place was too bright to behold. So I fixed my eyes on the sandaled feet that walked before me until we arrived at the next town, never looking back.

Again, in this new town, we went from tent to tent. As I peered into one, I saw people sitting around tables, but as they turned towards me to look, their faces became hideous and ugly, unreal as though they all wore a mask.

“What is this place,” I asked, “and why do all these people appear this way?” He told me to remove the mask from the first person I touched, and so I did. To my amazement I knew the face behind the mask.

“I know this person,” I said. “She was very dear to my heart but did things that made me angry, filling me with ferocious pride. I made her a promise one day, but was not able to keep it. It broke my heart.” I didn’t understand. I looked questioningly at the One by my side, the One whom I followed, and then back at the face that I’d unmasked.

“What happened,” I asked?

He explained, “This town is called Mara, and it’s very ancient. Those masks you see are masks of shame for debts you failed to forgive. Except you forgive them now, they are destined to wear those masks forever, and you’ll never know the warmth of their smiles behind the masks that you’ve painted on them and what you’ve made them to be. It’s this town that supports the one we just left behind, and unless it is changed, the brook of bitterness and anger will once again water the Wilderness of Sin, quenching the flame so that truth will no longer shine there.

I took each face gently in my hands. Removing the mask, I wiped away tears and I apologized profusely for what I failed to do long ago, forgiving each one that we might make amends. As their smiles appeared, I saw each face in a new light, appreciating them for the good I could now see. A good that destroyed all the ugliness. It was a power I never knew that I possessed and was grateful to have discovered it. We went from tent to tent repeating the same thing over and over until all were visited, spending longer at some as it seemed necessary. As we moved along this way, my heart, my soul lifted, becoming lighter every step of the Way. A flicker of joy grew to a wonderful flame as each face changed into laughter, something so beautiful. I was glad to behold them all. Each one explained to me their own tribulations and I also saw the sacrifices and ministries each performed. We became kindred spirits once again and my boundaries seemed to expand graciously.

As we left this place, I waved them all goodbye, promising to carry them in my heart always. Though I was sad to leave this place behind, I became almost anxious to get to the next town, and so our journey progressed.

As we walked along the Way, the One whom I followed continued to speak, telling me many things for my learning. His voice and mannerisms were always kind and gentle, yet what He spoke was with conviction and authority. As much as I desired to, I was almost sure that I’d never be able to remember everything that He said. My mind, my heart seemed already filled to overflowing. New thoughts and ideas sprang up within me. His patience with me was unwavering. If I stopped walking for a time to ponder something He said, He would stop also, and wait, never rushing the moment, but waiting for me to discover the answer.

At times I’m sure that I even tried to run ahead, but then He would stop, waiting for me to realize it and return to where He stood. Once again, I would take my place beside Him and we would continue on. As we walked along, His voice became more soothing, more familiar in its content as though speaking to me from across the years. I seemed to drift along, eyes fixed downward on the road before me, listening intently to all that He said, not wanting to miss a word as the road wound round and round. During these times when my mind seemed so filled, I drifted all over the road, from side to side, almost staggering along. The One whom I followed seemed to know when it was time to rest and so we would stop along the side of the road and just sit down in the cool grass to be silent for a time. It was at these times that I felt a closeness and loyalty to Him like never before as our friendship grew. During these rest stops I felt free to speak openly to Him about things I never felt comfortable talking to anyone else about: my deepest regrets, open emotions, fondest dreams, most painful hurts, all of which He heard with unbroken attention and earnest understanding. He never judged me and so, there was nothing that I felt too uncomfortable to speak about, including the things that made me most angry. I told Him of the loved ones I left behind and my concerns for them. I told Him of my worries for tomorrow. He never once interrupted me. He simply nodded His head in understanding. His worn face showed His concern. His eyes saddened with sorrow. By this I knew He understood, never once condemning me for my failures. He simply listened to every word I spoke. It was a relief to me to finally have such a wonderful friend that I could tell all these things to. I was grateful to be by His side. I was thankful for these moments of rest and at times I would simply lay my head in His bosom and sleep, and in my dreams I would hear Him pray…

… “And now, O Father, glorify Me together with Yourself, with the glory which I had with Yourself, with the glory which I had with You before the world was.
I have manifested Your name to the man whom You have given Me out of the world. He was Yours. You gave him to Me and He has kept Your word.
Now he has known that all things which You have given Me are from You.
For I have given him the words which You have given to Me; and he has received them, and has known surely that I come forth from You; and He has believed that You sent Me.
I pray for Him. I do not pray for the world but for him whom You have given Me, for He is Yours.
And all Mine are Yours, and Yours are Mine, and I am glorified in them.
Now I am no longer in the world, but these are in the world, and I come to You, Holy Father; keep through Your name him whom You have given Me, that he may be one as We are.
While I was with him in the world, I kept him in Your name. Him whom You gave Me I have kept; and none is lost except the son of perdition, that the scriptures might be fulfilled.
But now I come to You and these things I speak in the world that he may have My joy fulfilled in himself.
I have given him Your word; and the world has hated him because he is not of the world, just as I am not of the world.
I do not pray that You should take him out of the world, but that You should keep him from the evil one.
He is not of the world just as I am not of the world.
Sanctify him by Your truth. Your word is truth.
As You sent Me into the world, I also have sent him into the world
And for his sake I sanctify Myself, that he also may be sanctified by the truth.
I do not pray for him alone, but also for those who will believe in Me through his testimony.
That they all may be as one, as You, Father, are in Me, and I in You, that he also may be one in Us, that the world may believe You sent Me.
And the glory which You gave Me, I have given them, that they may be one just as We are one.
I in them, and You in Me; that they may be made perfect in one, and that the world may know that You sent Me, and that You have loved them as You have loved Me.
Father, I desire that this one whom You gave Me where I am, that he may behold My glory which You have given Me; for You loved Me before the foundation of the world.
O righteous Father! The world has not known You, but I have known You; and these have known that You sent Me.
And I have declared to them Your name, and will declare it, that the love which You have loved Me may be in them, and I in them”…

…As the words drifted through my mind to the very core of my heart, I felt a closer connection to this One who cradled my soul in His bosom; closer than I had ever felt to anyone before, wishing I could rest there forever.

It was not long before I was awakened. “Come, we must be going,” He said. I stood on my feet and we continued along the road we were on.

My heart felt light and roomy as though emptied from past burdens and ready to receive something new; and yet at its core was the warmth and tenderness of something I’d never known. It was strong and sure, almighty, radiating in all directions, flooding me with thoughts of what I felt I had been searching for all my life. It was life, and the way to live it in peace and truth, kindness and grace, goodness, mercy and patient suffering. Immanuel. It was a new kind of love that I seemed unable to comprehend in its fullness. I knew it inwardly and felt it radiance generating outwardly. There seemed too as if a small part that I was familiar with still existed, a part that whispered to me that there was still something lacking, something that I needed to do. But I wasn’t sure what or even how to do it. Unsure how to go out from it, and back in again, I simply did all I could to allow it to abide with me.

As we walked along the road, Jesus must have read my heart. He must have seen the perplexity on my face. He stopped in the middle of the road, and turning towards me he asked, “Why do you reason these things in your mind. If you have faith as a mustard seed, you will be able to say to this mountain, ‘be thou removed and cast into the sea,’ and it shall be removed from before thee.”

At the time I wasn’t sure what He meant, but rather than question Him, I just had faith that one day I would know. We continued walking and talking together for days, and months, and years, resting here, praying there and sometimes simply waiting and watching. All throughout this time He never left my side. Even during the times of my deepest pondering when I was unaware of His presence He just stayed silently beside me.

There came a time along our journey when my thoughts returned to the mountain itself. Could we still be inside? If so, it was huge, seeming to go on forever. But we must be. Except for the light that radiated from Christ, everything else around me seemed quite dim.; a sort of twilight that was neither day nor night but more like dawn or dusk, as though time stood still, or didn’t exist at all and knew no boundaries. I’m not really sure how to describe it, but my vision seemed poor apart from His light, and if not for Jesus, I would have surely gotten lost in the surrounding shadows. In my fear, I remained close by His side. As I looked up, the darkness only intensified; to the left or the right I was only able to make out vague images. These were only shapes and forms of something I could not comprehend apart from the brightness of the light that surrounded Him. There was only the road that I stood on and the light of the Truth to guide my way. And even this was too bright to behold in its fullness. I stayed my eyes on the sandaled feet under which was a sapphire stone path beneath them; the foundation to the walls of a great city and like the very heavens in its clarity. On this road His footprints engraved an account of a life.










Chapter Three


After much travel over many hills and plains and dark valleys, we came to a great city, a strange city that was ablaze with artificial light emulating in all directions, mocking the surroundings in a pale and shadow cast everywhere in a surreal type of way. It was not the pure brightness that went before me.

When we finally entered into the city, I was startled by the spectacle before me. Chaos, noise and confusion where everywhere. There was a multitude of people, all talking at once and yet no one was agreeing or listening to anyone. They all seemed to rush about and jostle each other in a most hurried and frantic way. Activity never ceased and there was building and constructing all around. Everyone’s nature was of a varying and differing sort, and yet because of this, they all seemed to be the same. The clamor and babble was deafening, everyone shouting to be heard, to be seen, to be recognized in their speech. As Jesus turned to speak to me, I had to strain my ears in order to hear what He was saying.

“What is this place,” I asked.
“It is the New City, the Great Babylon. Be careful here,” He answered, “stay very close.”

As we walked through this place of confusion, I struggled desperately to hold the peace within me; I had to stay close to Christ, clinging to His garment. I took note of the people all around. In all their diversity, there were certain things that caused them to resemble one another. It was not outwardly apparent as in their ways of dress, for in this there was an abundance of diversity as though each was making a statement of individuality. No, this sameness was more subtle. It was in their eyes, their facial expression, the words they spoke, and the works of their hands.

I saw several people in fine apparel gathered around something or someone lying in the gutter. Through the forest of their legs I was able to see a shoeless foot. It was a woman, lying in the street, unconscious from strong drink, beaten down by the world and robbed of all dignity. No one crowding around dared to touch her. Instead they wagged their fingers, and shaking their heads they called her a sinner. I watched as Jesus walked through their midst, unnoticed by the crowd; and stooping down, he whispered something in the woman’s ear. He then took the woman in His arms and lifted her up. He carried her to a place of worship, where He ministered to this woman’s needs for a time. Charging the master of the house to care for her until He could return for her, he gave the innkeeper money to do whatever was necessary to look after this woman, promising to repay their kindness to her upon His return.

As I looked away, I saw a woman, lavishly dressed. She clicked along in high heeled shoes with her nose in the air and a fine, fancy hairdo on her head. Her mannerisms were calculated and precise, but it was the scowl on her face that stood out from all this show. She walked along wagging her finger at passerbies while scolding a forlorn looking husband who followed behind her, loaded down with merchandise, his eyes void of life. Jesus explained that this man chose the person of the woman over love. He was more desirous of her flesh than what was missing from his heart and because of that, her covetousness ruled his life.

As I looked through the bustle of the crowd, I saw a man dressed in rags and lying on a heat grate for warmth. Two uniformed men stood over him, wagging their fingers at him, shaking their heads, and twirling their rods. The poor mans eyes pleaded with them to let him stay, but they poked their rods at him and shook their heads saying, “It’s the law.”

Jesus leaned close to my ear and whispered to me, “Not My law.”

I saw a long line of men, women, and even some children, sick and maimed, young and old alike. They all filed into a huge place with high walls and fences with thorny vines at the top. Most were dressed in filth and rags; some were bent and broken, robbed and beaten. And still others held their head proud and stubborn, yet with tears streaming down their faces. Their families, their loved ones stood off at a distance, crying as they waved good-bye.

As they shuffled into this great walled fortress of brick and mortar and iron, a man wearing a big, black robe with a book named “The Law” wagged his fleshy finger; and as his jowls jiggled from too much pork, he looked down on them, each one. As each one passed under his iron rod, he pronounced them sinners, guilty and condemned. He hung on each one a number that stood for the day they were judged and that read, “Shame.” “An eye for an eye,” he pronounced. “A tooth for a tooth.” Jesus explained that this man was the instrument of the people’s vengeance. That justice is not served this way. Only when man stops believing that justice is something you take rather than give will it stop being vengeance. That to give an eye for an eye means giving vision for vision, or giving a tooth for a tooth means giving teaching for teaching may have enfolded those they seek vengeance against and thus avoiding the necessity for all this. Christ declared mans justice to be a forgery and is designed to insulate the rich from the poor rather than uplift him to strengthen him in goodness as God had designed. It was a way for the rich to not have to deal with the duties and obligations that God gave them for supplying them with the abundance to care for the poor. Instead they have heaped these blessings to themselves as though somehow more worthy of the blessings and then they seek vengeance when the poor man tries to take any of it.

When all was said and done, the man with the book, wearing the big, black robe, with the jiggling jowls and fleshy hands, came down from his pinnacle and the place where he judged, got into a big fancy car, and went home for the day. But before he left, he shook the hands of the scribes and Pharisees who were there to both prosecute and defend, agreeing that all went well and promising to see them Sunday at their place of worship. A loud moan went up from the fortress with the brick walls and iron gates, and the sound made me turn away in shame.

We went inside a building made by hands of hewn out stone. It had huge, colorful windows and high, oak doors. Just outside these doors lay a sleeping form, covered by newspapers to stay warm, but no one who went inside seemed to notice nor did any of them invite her inside. They simply left her there to sleep, turning their eyes away so as not to have to see her.

Inside were lavish decorations; ornaments, and statues of every design. There were hand carved and high backed chairs, huge chandeliers and perfumed smells. There were seats to seat a multitude, all in order and filled with people. Most were dressed in fine clothes and fancy jewels with polished faces and elaborate hairdos. There were perfumed and oiled women, clean shaven men with backbones stiff like trees. All wore angelic looking faces, prim and proper and smiling at one another.

All appeared to be listening to a man up front who faced this multitude, with his back to an alter. This man was dressed far different than the multitude, in kingly robes of varying colors and embroidered with fine stitchery of many hands. He wagged a pudgy finger on a hand that was fleshy and soft, never having experienced the hard labor he insisted upon from these people. He read from a book called “God’s Law” with a voice that shook, raising and lowering for emphasis and echoing in the cedar rafters high above.

When he had finished his fifteen minutes of practiced and eloquently repeated oration, he had some finely dressed servants pass around to the multitude a basket that these then threw money into as an angelic sounding choir sang hymns and all looked proud.

When this was finished, the man in the front who lead the way, the one in the elaborate robes, said some mysterious words of mystical things while making some mysterious and mystical movements with a golden chalice and a white wafer of bread.

When he had completed these gestures, all the people left their seats and lined up to get a wafer and drink from the cup before filing back to their seats. With their hands folded before them, they all wore angelic looking faces of contentment.

Christ cautioned me then and there. He said, “They have reduced Me to a stale crust of bread, selling the blessings and keeping the mysteries that I had revealed to them long ago a secret in order that the multitude should have to pass through here in order that they might receive the blessings of My Father. They have created an idol, an image, to the beast outside, giving it a voice that it might speak. Week after week they celebrate their solemn feast, confessing their sins, yet forsaking none of them. They offer up their prayers, and yet do none of what I ask. And for this reason I will hear none of them. These buildings that they worship in have become the whitewashed tombs of their saints and they have become like them.”

At the completion of these rituals, all left the building. As they filed out the great oak doors, each in turn passed by the woman lying there, covered in newspapers. They wagged their finger at her, calling her a sinner in mimicry of the man who led their solemn service. As they got further away from the stone building they met in, their angelic faces began to melt like plastic masks melting from the heat of the day. The faces beneath turned to stone, and their eyes became lifeless shadows. Their fingers wagged at anyone who did not appear like them.

As I looked back at the building, the man with the fancy robes was swinging the big, oak doors shut as a gust of wind blew the newspapers off of the woman lying there. I turned to Jesus and asked, “Who is that woman laying there.” He looked at me and answered, “She is the one that I gave to the master of the house and the innkeepers to care for until my return, the one I lifted up from the road and ministered to, healing her wounds.” The man in the robes looked at the lying form and just shook his head before closing the door.
As I looked around, there were people everywhere, wagging their fingers, placing blame, accusing some, excusing others, and shaking their heads at most. They rushed about and jostled each other, all in hurry but seeming to go no where. I noticed something strange about most of them. It was in their eyes. Shadows filled with shadows. Lifeless eyes that could not see. Blind to all that was around them. Unaware of anything or anyone but themselves.

I saw large buildings, huge structures that heaved up to the heavens. There were statues and monuments and pillars that had in them no life. Men with shadowed eyes cut ribbons in honor of these things while consuming the resources that God had given for the caring of souls. Huge chunks of living life were carved out to make room for these high places that had no life. Asphalt pits, and blinking lights, and noise that was deafening. In the shadows of it all I saw human forms, hiding from the finger wagers and head shakers that were dressed in their fancy clothes: and from the uniformed men who swung their rods. Some of these human forms were naked; others dressed in rags, still others who were weak from hunger, with parched lips. Not a few pushed all their worldly belongings in steel pushcarts along filthy streets paved with the rotting souls of men. Others slept in cardboard castles that were filled with Raggedy Ann’s homeless garbage. Even all of these had shadow filled, lifeless eyes.

My heart that was so joyous awhile ago, so filled, so lifted, began to grieve. Not my heart alone, but what was at its core, the life that filled me, moaning in silent suffering, murmuring a weeping song.

As I turned to Jesus, a garden appeared out of the midst of all of this. I saw Him kneeling at its center. His face was pale and worn, great drops of blood seeped from the pours of His forehead. For that brief moment, I saw divinity flash through humanity and on its face an agony shone through. His body wrenched with great sobs and my own heart cried out for Him. I heard Him pray, “Never again Father; once and for all. It has been finished. You gave them my life and they have rejected Me. It is time now that all shall be finished.” Again my heart went out to Him with compassion never before felt. Suddenly, I saw a wooden cross flash before me, and upon it my Lord was nailed. His blood poured out from his wounds upon the earth below Him and His heart burst with sorrow. And then the vision was gone. Again, there before me was my Master, praying in the midst of the garden.

After some while, He lifted Himself. I walked over by His side and tried to think of some words that I could say to comfort Him with, but before any words came, He said to me, “ Come, we must leave this place. It will all be over soon and all this will be gone.” With that said, He turned to leave, saying, “Follow Me.”



Chapter Four


As we passed through the great city I saw as my Master’s tears wetted the ground before me like great drops of soaking rain, pouring out His Holy Spirit upon the earth. Not one soul recognized Him in their midst as we moved along, as if He didn’t even exist. I followed along in silence as I wondered why this was so.

Jesus, as though reading my heart, turned to me and said, “Sin has become so powerful in the world that men are no longer aware of it. They have become blind to themselves. And because of this, they believe they have no need of the Father, without Whom in the world, love no longer exists. At least not the love of the Father. Unless all men see their sins and are able to confess them, their can be no forgiveness in the world and it is condemned to destruction. Unless they open their eyes and see their sins, they will never know Me or what I was sent into the world to do. If they never see Me, they will never see the Father who gives them life. All shall die, never knowing eternal life.”

I thought of all the finger wagging, all the blaming, all the judging and condemnation, men classing themselves, comparing themselves to those who commend themselves, measuring themselves by themselves , and comparing themselves among themselves. Jesus went on to say, “It is because of that, that men have become blinded to themselves, and only clamor to be heard. It is also what will condemn them in the end.”

We traveled along still further, coming up and out of this great city. Jesus stopped and shook the dust from His feet telling me to do the same. We came to the top of a high hill and Christ said, “Behold!”

As I looked out across the land, I saw it covered with many cities like the one we just left. There were nations and kingdoms too numerous to count. Some of these cities were great, some were small. A grey mist of poisonous vapor filled the air, rising from each one like a cloud of death slowly replacing the breath of life of the inhabitants that filled them.

Armies marched across some lands, filling the air with the sounds of war, and death, and destruction. Other cities were turning to rust, slowly decaying away. All were filled with a strange and eerie light that mixed shadow and darkness like cracks and crevices in a wall held together with inferior mortar. From everywhere all around rose the noise and clamor of confusion and chaos, and it could be heard, I am sure, even to the heights of heaven; even from the great distance to where I stood.

There was no order, no peace, only noise and eternal condemnation, as if the whole land screamed out a final, guttural deaths yell that went on forever.

Jesus stood their and wept.

“These kingdoms were once offered to Me,” He explained, “but I knew their end from the beginning. Such wasted effort and vanity to build what could never sustain itself,” He went on to say. Had they only not leaned unto their own understanding and turned to Me, it would have been a land overflowing with milk and honey. But they chose to follow the leadership of men instead. They chose their kings and their kings led them to ruin. Instead they chose this. My Father provided the earth with enough abundance for all to enjoy, but now look! Because of the greed of a few, and the momentary power it purchased, there is left for My people only decay.”

Jesus wept.

“What about all this,” I asked? “Shouldn’t we warn them?”
“What is that to you,” He asked in return? “You follow Me. If they do not hear Moses and the prophets, neither have they been persuaded though “One” has risen from the dead.”
“You must leave this place now,” Jesus said.

Only then did I realize that we were still inside the mountain. As I looked around, I saw that Christ was the only “One” who illuminated its inside, all that surrounded me.

“But where will I go now,” I asked? “You have all the words of life and truth.”
“Where ever your faith that I have given you will lead. I will be with you always.”
As Jesus turned away, I suddenly realized that I stood on a different mountain top in the light of a new day. I looked across the wide expanse and saw the mountain that I had come from. The one that I had tried in vain so many times in the past to climb. It seemed far away from me now, and this new mountain that I now stood upon was called “Contemplation.” It stood in the region beyond here and there.

As I stood, looking across the wide expanse before me, at the mountain that I had come from, remembering the many times I tried in vain to achieve its peak, a shudder came over me. For a moment these dizzying heights made my head swim and threatened to overcome me. But as I looked out at the valley below and the land that lay all around me, I noticed how calm and serene and ordered it was. All that was sustained in it yielded to each other in ministering care for all. It contrasted sharply with what I had just witnessed. A quietness and stillness arose in my heart as though a gentle puff of wind blew in; and I sat down atop this mountain plateau in contemplation of all that I had been given. I felt alive with life.

As my thoughts eventually turned to the souls that God had given me to love, I realized that I could not spend much longer in this place. I contemplated the great land I had visited with Christ, with its cities of decay. I realized that there was a lot of work that needed to be done in the valley below where souls cried out for Salvation. I knew that I could not save them…but I knew Who could. I felt it was my purpose to witness of this “One” and hope that by my witness, souls would find Him too, or at the very least, cry out that they might be found by Him. I saw what filled one mountain. I saw the souls that would never escape. I remember what Jesus taught me, the words that He spoke and I knew that I could not keep them to myself. And so, not quite sure where this faith would lead me, I strode down off this mountain of contemplation with a purpose.

At the time it was more purpose than wisdom to accomplish that purpose.









Chapter Five


When I reached the bottom of this wonderful mountain that I had been blessed upon, it was with a desire that everyone that I came in contact with should be blessed in the same manner. After all, I had been given a purpose… I would be doing work for God. Right?

I stood on a road. It seemed a crossroad of time. At its junction there were three signs. Two pointed in opposite directions. The first of these said tomorrow, and as I tried to peer down it, all I saw was darkness. It was a mysterious and forbidding place. As much as I tried, I could not contemplate its end. As much as I strained to see, there was nothing that I could make out. A voice spoke to me from my heart. It said, “This way belongs to God, He creates it and rules over it. You will never find your way along this path. Only He knows its end.” I seemed to be assured that this was not the way to go.

For the longest time I stood in today. There seemed little else I could or should do. But as time went by, I found no wisdom. I only found my own understanding and Jesus told me not to learn towards that. But that only left the road to yesterday. “What could that possibly hold,” I thought out loud? “How could I gain the wisdom to go forward, by looking back?” As crazy as it all sounded, I decided to not rely on my own understanding of how things should be. But then, what was I supposed to understand? What could a history that I didn’t belong to teach me? Nevertheless, I made the conscious decision to start from the beginning and go forward from there. Perhaps by doing this, I would learn wisdom along the way. I had to start somewhere and as the future belonged to God and only He could walk in it, I needed to walk where God had already been if I was to learn anything at all. Standing in today, only, taught me little that I could see to go forward with.

I started down The Beginnining of this road called yesterday; and before I’d taken my second step there stood before me a tremendous obstacle. There in front of me, looming up to the lofty heights was that huge mountain that nearly consumed my life; the one that had caused me so much trouble in the past. Carved out on its side was the word, ‘pride.’

I feared this great mountain with its lonely heights and I refused to climb it again. Yet, it was huge before me. It was too big to go around and knowing that it stood in the way, but not knowing what to do, I sank down in despair before it. I fell prostrate on the earth and cried out,” Lord, do you not care that I am perishing before this mountain? Please, help me!”

From within my heart the words did speak, “If you have faith as a mustard seed…”
I recognized the words of Christ. I knew his voice like a sheep that knows the voice of the shepherd. I could see their color, taste their sweetness, and smell their fragrance.

And so, with all the courage and strength and authority I could muster up, which was littler than I had supposed, I prayed. In all my perceived humbleness and smallness before this great mountain, I prayed. With a heart and mind fixed on Christ, I prayed.
“Mountain,” I said! “Be removed from before me and be cast into the sea!”

Now I fully expected that mountain, that great huge looming up place, to get up and fling itself into the sea, far, far away from me. But nothing happened.

So I prayed again, “mountain, please, be removed. Don’t you see that you are standing in my way?”

With the same expectation I waited. Again nothing happened.

So, once again I prayed, with all my heart, wit all my soul, and with all my strength…
“Jesus, my Lord and Savior, You are able to do all things. I pray to You, please, remove this pride of mine that stands in Your Way, and cast it far from You and me and into the sea. With Your humbleness, humble me my King. Let it be done Lord, according to Thy will. Thank You Lord that You have done this thing.”

No sooner than I had finished those words when the mountain began to shake. The whole ground shook below me. I watched as bit by bit that great mountain of pride crumbled and fell. It began to dissolve before my very eyes, finally caving in upon itself until it stood no more. It was gone; and with it, all that it held.

I fell again, with my face to the earth, and with fear and trembling, I cried out, “O Lord, have mercy upon me, a sinner...Thank You Lord God Almighty, for You are my salvation.”

From that spot where the mountain once stood there arose a hill upon my plea that my sins be forgiven. I looked up and saw atop this hill of my pleas, a Rock, and on this Rock the Spirit of God descended like a dove, and whose brightness shone as merciful and gracious, long-suffering and kind, filled with goodness and truth. His wings stretched out wide, as if to embrace all who came to Him with repentant heart. On the right was the rod of His authority, held up by the brightness of His truth. At his left was staff of justice, held up by the splendor of His mercy.

From the Rock on which He sat, a river of water sprang forth, flowing down the hill and washing me in its refreshing coolness. It continued past me and as I watched, it cut deep embankments into the earth, alongside which trees began to grow. The roots from these trees reached forth from the banks and deep to become moistened by the river flowing past. On each tree fruit appeared in abundance such as I’ve never seen and of a size I’d never imagined.

I suddenly realized how very hungry I was for the taste of this fruit, how thirsty I was for their nectar. I felt parched and dry and weak from the lack of nourishment. I looked back to the top of the hill of my pleas for forgiveness and I fell before it to worship. From its midst I heard a voice that said, “Stand and go now.”

For a moment I just stood there, to frightened and amazed by what I saw to move, when a child appeared by my side.
This child took me by the hand and said, “Come, we must take our journey. Do not be afraid. First you must eat of all the fruit from the trees in this place. They will strengthen and nourish you for the journey that lies ahead. Eat your fill while you are here.”

I turned once more towards the top of the hill and again the voice spoke, “Go now. I send you forth to fulfill the purpose which I have purposed. Obey my commandments and it will be well with you. Now go!”

I looked into the eyes of the child standing beside me and for a brief instant, divinity flashed across His face. A faint recognition spread like warm milk throughout my heart. As we turned to leave the base of this hill, He said, “You’ve known Me and know Me and will know Me greater still.” Intrigued, I allowed myself to be lead by this Child.

As we approached a grove of trees whose fruit glistened firm and ripe in the light of day, three men appeared out of there midst. Their names were Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob who became Israel. “Blessed be the Most High God,” I greeted them. They greeted me the same way in return. There set before them was a table prepared with the fruit from the trees. They invited me to sit down and eat, and eat I did. Ravenously I gorged myself on all they set before me until I could eat no more. During the course of our meal they spoke to me about many things. They taught me what they knew of the Great and Mighty God whom they served. They spoke of their own lives and how He was a part of them, what He had taught them, and the ways in which He revealed Himself to them. They showed me the places in my own life where God had appeared, not unlike to them. They told me how I came to be in this place and why I was here. When they had finished speaking, the Child brought out bread, and after giving thanks He broke it, sharing it with me. And afterwards He poured a cup of wine for us to share. I ate and drank all that He gave me. When I had finished the cup, I set it down again on the table and when I looked up, they were gone. All that remained were the Child, I, the trees that bore fruit and the words of the men that filled my heart.

A bit bewildered, I blinked in amazement, but my mind began to piece together all that was said, guided as it were by an unseen Spirit within me. The Child returned to my side and, taking me again by the hand, He said, “Come and see. There is much more to learn and many things to see.” We moved on to the next tree.

I noticed as we walked that this Child seemed to have grown a bit during this last visit. When and how it happened I’m not quite sure, but He was taller, sturdier, and more mature. A new glimmer of familiarity broke out across His face in every expression.

As we stopped along the way at each fruit tree by this river, the scene before me repeated itself. The messages were repeated over and over as men would appear; Men who bore names such as He Shall Increase and Rescued, God Is Salvation and Bold. There were twelve sons of Israel whose names said, “The Lord has surely looked upon my affliction, now therefore my husband will love me, because the Lord has heard that I am unloved; he has therefore given me this son. Now this time my husband will become attached to me, because I have born him three sons. So now I will praise the Lord because the lord has judged my case; and He has also heard my voice and given me a son. With great wrestlings I have wrestled with my sister and indeed I have prevailed. Now a troop comes and I am happy, for the daughters will call me blessed. God has given me my wages, because I have given my maid to my husband. God has endowed me with a good endowment, now my husband will dwell with me, because I have borne him six sons. God has taken away my reproach, so the Lord shall add to me another son, and his name shall be called Son of the Right Hand.” This was Israel and the precious stones of its name were laid upon the breastplate of the One who is come.

As we traveled onward, we came across the groves of a man king named David who was Much Beloved, and his son Solomon who was a prince named Peace. There were prophets whose written word from God begged of washing in the waters of repentance and the forsaking of sin in preparation of a straight path that was to be made for the coming of the Greatest Prince of them all. Gideon and Deborah, Ruth and Naomi, Samuel the judge, Ezekiel and Isaiah, Daniel and many more. All were present. All had tables prepared with the fruit from their trees. All shared the bread and the wine with the Child who led the way.

As we moved along in this Kingdom, such as it was, and as we all did eat of what had been prepared, this child who walked before me grew to become a man. Noble and strong, confident in His word and sure of the God He serves and the path that he treads, this man was the perfect image of God as He had revealed Himself to men. As He blessed them with the abundance of Himself; and as he increased each with their portion of His inheritance.

This child who became a man turned to me and said, “What time? What day? What hour? Can you be sure? And yet my brother, as you toe the line between two eternities, both past and present, this brightness shall light the dark of night, and in the heat of the day I shall adore thee. Your own troubles will become small by the noble cause which was mine alone to bear, whose feet impress the sands of time, and whose voice shall whisper to you in each new day. And yet, if you should stumble, or even fall, I gave you this time to remember.”
Divinity once again scrolled itself across His face as He spoke to me these words.

He also said to me, “The rich man who wants to be seen as God, whose passion is for others to see him as such in order to lord over the poor man, can only help the poor man to see that in him self is Christ the King. And there he shall keep Him, safe and secure. It will be the one thing that the rich man will be unable to take from him, ensuring that he will always be free. It will be the one thing he shall possess that the rich man will refuse; because to find Him he has to first become poor.”

As he spoke these things to me he turned towards me and a warm smile broke out across His face. “Now do you know Me,” He asked? My heart leapt in sudden recognition of Him by the very nature of the words that He spoke. It was He whom I followed through darkest night, through the mountain of pride and the sins of my past; He who had washed me with His tears and prayed that I should know God; He that suffered in all the places that I’d been and now walks beside me in all the places I am now going.

As His warm embrace circled around me, He seemed to vanish before my very eyes, and for a moment I was lost without Him by my side. That is, until I heard Him speak from within my heart.

I looked at the road that stretched before me and imprinted in the sands of time was a pair of footprints that tread the road ahead. “You must take your own journey now. But I am with you always and wherever you go. Do not leave the way in which I showed you, turning neither to the left, nor the right. Keep your thoughts fixed straight ahead, loving all, and judging none. I will be here whenever you need Me. I pray that you will. One day, you too will be planted like a tree, beside the rivers of water, that brings forth its fruit in its season, whose leaf shall not whither, and whatever you do shall prosper. Go now, in peace with God.”

And so my journey begins. George W. Bush is King of the Americas, at war with the nations of the Ishmaelite who wage their battles across the earth, but especially in the land between the Tigris and the Euphrates Rivers. The Americas call the Ishmaelite ‘terrorists’ and the Ishmaelite call the Americas ‘The Great Satan.’ Only the LORD God Almighty knows who shall be victorious. As Abraham before me, I make my encampment with those with me, by the terabinth tree of Mamre. The worldly kingdom of Israel, reformed after the second great battle between the nations of the world, is locked in battle with its brethren Palestine. A battle of wills... a war for inheritance.

Worthiness of love is not found in our ability to please others, but rather, it is found in the love and forgiveness given to us by God Almighty through His Son, Jesus Christ. Gratefully received first, and then given willingly. Worthiness of this love values the love received from others as their own ability to love depends on that and in turn becomes gratefully accepted. It should be valued and treasured to the point where our desire is to do nothing to offend that love given, nor be offended by it but instead, only return it in kind.

Lord God Almighty…Oh that You would bless me indeed, and enlarge my border, that Your hand would be with me, and that You would keep me from evil, that I may not cause pain!”


















…