There is time to run through the salient points once again before offering edict. When things are rushed for the sake of emotion or momentum the best options have yet been extolled. We are not property of poorly threshed opportunity or idea, but the deep moral thinkers upon the affect of our propositions. If it was necessary and consequential to make it four thousands pages long then the analysis of those pages is more important than the writing thereof.

My heart is partial to the obeisance’s of its wanting. It labors not for the good of all but for the profit of the few within focus. However, the heart, when given sufficient leash may outsmart time and concupiscence to deliver topic, thesis and conclusion consistent with egalitarian good. We are not slaves to the momentary reasoning of men concerned with hollering bellies. This is our wake in which the world must struggle to get its sea legs. Assaulting upon the innocent ought never be foundation or filling in the lessons of mankind. We are measured in the time we are given, to leave such legacy is suffering and unconscionable at best.

What then of Spirit and the leverage upon our person, our contemplation and works? Do we position God in such repugnant state that we scantly reflect the image of His Word against the actions to which we’ve dedicated our reason? This short sight is not the long term hope of humanity. We were meant to employ the weight of treasure and history against the possibility to create those things worthy of God’s review. Shall we be forgotten as those who allocated insufficient reason to resolve those things within authority? I think not and think again upon all those steps I find necessary to moment.

Heart and hand beyond my will to understand. Simply fume and make demand upon the witting world around me. Songs to me bout the angry and the free fade to mist in agony. The abomination of utter failure.

Looking back every side step and attack put more bricks upon this back, while heaven waited on my frailty. Making lists and listing hard to port thinking of some grand retort, humming loud enough for sea to hear me.

Long since gone storms are settled against the dawn, bishop, Queen, rook or pawn, we all have seen the toil. Up against what we all have feared the most, Father, Son and Holy Ghost beneath it all firmly fit with fashions plunder.

No reach, no love, no harbors fit the skin that’s left won’t feel it a bit. Loss of limb, or life so vile only hope may reconcile. Into the charge do brigands bluster barely came to face the muster.

Memories and data filled all emotion in words fulfilled passion fuel in blood we’ve spilled in keeping with grand gesture. The wind picks up to boasting sail in friendship, kind and Word I fail, giving jailer and priest their bail heaving to for keel and bail.

Lining up to read the list if you join we must insist that gifts and pride be left aside this journey only God may guide. Profit some and words do tell the moment that all passions fell clanging pot and ringing bell

No Time to wake the Master icy step and snow’s sweet calm the wound would not accept the balm. For reasons plenty and rhymes so few out of His mouth the false will spew. And regale the days when Winter slept promised perfection to each adept.

To Heart and Hand He gave me sand to chase my will or follow His Great Plan my reason always in short demand trying so hard to slake the flames I’ve fanned. In dark and days of short supply, seeking the truth and reasons why.

Each man appointed once to die and then sweet Justice for which we cry.

Gritted teeth at the mention of chaos and calamity. So in love with order and procedure that I seldom venture into the realm of possibility, preferring to predictably enter each episode fully assured the lack of twists, turns, mystery and unfortunately instantaneous Joy. In fearful anticipation I have written the next chapters or at least the sentences that lead to comfort, peace and limited opportunity for growth or mystery. Hope is a wild thing, finding joy and faith in the unknown that is fully rooted in the absolute.

Feeling the way forward, I step back into my customary shield of fear. Way lay beyond this request, this question shares the potential shame for which I have established reliable crutch and bastion. Hiding in the familiar I comfort myself in the old and the completely understood, basking in my lack of the dangers found in newness and mystery. I appeal to the prevalent sense of Safety to keep my complacence. Let no bad thing come my way that may transform my capacity to prevail in dark times. For I want the path easily mastered, the broad boulevard of humanity’s march to Easy Street.

Make no thing too hard for my comfortable dominance. Enslave all those attempts at maturity and mastery keeping it forever simple that I may find comfort. All hills, valleys and tunnels should be erased, all things made flat. Let all trees be removed and deserts erected that no thing may hide from sight to surprise. Let all things remain mediocre, as the glasses and base colors of our garment that none should stand above or below, equal by elimination. Let talents be equally divided and those gifted given crutch, cane or cast to inhibit movement outside the Bell Curve of normalcy and analytic assumption.

Utopia be my friend in your false eloquence and dimmed lighting. For if Paradise be our sounding then stop Twain’s marking this instant. For their can be no uniqueness in shroud’s mystery nothing beyond ordinary to build or seed hope’s anticipatory ignorance. For bliss be ignorance as it peruses nothing, seeks emptiness and marches sullen away from content rich living. This is not paradise to be separate from God Almighty, lacking; light, life and the powers of creation yet to those who live in the empowered imaginary deception it is the foundation of any desire at resistance to God and all things real.

Give me not the trials leading to purity, strength and delight for I want the simple, the Cro-Magnon and the tame aspects of cruelty, hunger and dominance. Let me live a life of imaginary devices, destinations and declaration of my own glory. For in the affect of life’s pressure I am revealed. I find only shame in my unmaking at the testing of Life’s Crucible. In to the furnace you shall go to stand hand in hand with Maker while I repose on the comforts of temporary existence, finding peace outside peculiarity in the land of all that is known.

Nothing is definitive until the World knows your stand. There is no accountability rationally assumed, no line’s drawn nor assail given until one’s own personal acknowledgement of a position’s inclusion. If you don’t declare Christ here then He has no option but to deny you in Heaven. For in your failure to declare your adoption by His Holy Family you have excluded yourself, sold your birthright for a bowl of stew.

Do seek to evade capture, persecution or parade in your silence regarding Christ. Be very careful right now because you are in so doing for you are concomitantly eschewing the blessings included therein. For there is nothing gained in silence only lost. This world will see your deeds as you walk with Him, demons see the Holy Spirit upon you. Therefore to be abiding in Christ provides no camouflage or absolute protection against Heavenly, Worldly or Hadean Alignment. It is the Spirit living within our hearts that gives us Sovereign Defense and Offensive Fire Power to repel or chase any of those enemy elements.

If you will not declare Jesus as King Here then you will quench the Holy Spirit at each opportunity to see Him arise in defense, protection or blessing. Don’t think that hiding is ever an option in Christianity unless hidden by God under His Mighty Wings and Shadow. People who have falsely or oddly accepted Christ through silent Prayer yet never stepped forward into His Hand of Discipline to be chastised by His Merciful hand of sanctification are simply seeking the get out of hell card for free to return to their well worn seat upon humanity’s fence or sideline bench. There are no watchers in the Kingdom of Heaven only doers and obstacles. Upon which side of the fence have you proclaimed your stake? For there is coming a time and may already have arrived where the fence upon which you have so comfortably watched the game is now found to be on enemy territory.

Declare a side. Preach, teach and abide obediently in His Word and be His disciples indeed or be included as minions of the fallen by your silence, inaction and fence sitting reluctance. In Jesus Name may You Know Him and may this World and all the Fallen Publicly acknowledge that You Belong to God, in Jesus Name. Eschew the Stew. Declare your Birthright.

From the comfortable arm chair of my own imaginary kingdom posting pronouncements of my little tried theories and lesser known exploits, testing access to a playing field to which I hold no membership. You are free of my predilections, my posturing and my permissible prognostication for none holds bearing or the gravity of impending stoning for prophecy misspoken. In the miniscule stretches of my inkling I see a way forward customary to my own damaged interests and have no right, power or authority to demand the moments you would lend for absurdity. Conquerors are written about not sidelined for greater acts of reason.

Nonetheless, those things to which Spirit made me privy you must now acquiesce their occurrence in the sequence of concrete events upon which they were projected. I do not for a moment take credit, pleasure or history’s measure in my own sacrifice, conquest or accolade but would desperately and repeatedly point you to worship of God for having given me any measure of sanity, proselytizing or correct prediction. This is His story certainly my attempts at increasing the silhouette or profile of my character are vain attempt at best. If the Spirit is correct then align with His Power, authority and Direction especially if that requires ignoring me to do so. Heralds are oft forgotten when the declarations they’ve made are found to be correct and timely.

What then is the treasure of this service? What outcome or profit do I venture to lay this current timeline in review? Well that is a suspect conversation that apparently reflects a fair bit of sacrifice on the herald’s half, for it is done by direction, surrender and a recognized love for the good of God’s Will and the benefit of every man who heeds them. Does the preacher matter or the Word to which he convicts you? Does the herald determine the outcome of scenes, battles or debate? Does the servant stand before the master when reward for His Glory are measured and worship properly given Him? Well No. It is with distinct pleasure in sight of spiritual understanding that a believer partakes any action for it is recognition of Faith in any measure acquainting by nature with the King who sent him.

Is it small measure to report honestly to Holy Throne room with testimony regarding those talents which were given having been multiplied in obedience? What then of shepherding having dedicated fearless attempt and teaching to keep the sheep upright, fed and readied for the departure at Master’s behest. What then the small sacrifices associated with loss of status, reputation, treasure or time investing all to see the prophet’s righteous? Have we to believe that all we have done is for naught? This position reflects damaged thinking at outset, for none could have been pursued had not the gift firmly received. Spiritual understanding demands the payment made in redemption from slavery, inclusion in Monarch’s Family and cleansing to befit eternity. Treasures none greater in this world or any dimension have been bestowed to servant in demonstration of belief.

Raspy palm upon rose-hewn cheek. A gentle nudge, lips brushing the thickly calloused fingertips where prints had been worn absent. A brush run through the curly locks his hand gently parted the tangles, impossibly cupping the base of her neck, in warmth, strength and value. These are not the challenges of slave master but one familiar to work and war knowing that which remains precious to those who have lost everything. Eyes too learned of those which seek to conquer find hope, love and kindness from unlikely benefactor. In triage and timely moment peace and wonder meet in restoration.

Sacrificed for reasons imagined whispers. Innocence found plenty must this day be acquainted with the world’s consuming carnage. Yet, protected behind defenses too large for most to ponder, shadow given, shelter and promise of one more day outside the merciless crucible. Still, fashioned for the ideas of God and made too fragile for those of this dimension. Hope, existence of self control not oft found in wide supply, giving birth to need for Lord Protector. A ghastly man when challenged by those who want his blood or honor, innocent few are lent the will and might of men who serve honor and glory.

Words, none spoken yet chapters written in the passage of pregnant moments in understanding and promise. So few, hearts beating to accommodate the oaths that we have taken, not distant lands we hoped in meeting. These youths must make it to fortress in promise and grace purchased. For now the sword and spear hand draped across her shoulder the only reason to counsel success in this proud venture. For absent one man willing to forgo evil we find all innocence consumed for the pleasures of impure measure. In this thing done would God’s validation given find that heart no longer present for tasks befitting midnight?

Of shadow’s known and goblins hobbled to meet the road a man has risen. With unknown past and likely domineering spirit yet found the fancy of butterflies yet frozen. To look upon this pure, saved soul with market perception of precious flight and fancy, surpassing ashen heart and hardened character unwilling to protect the vulnerable. These blazing eyes of horizons captured look beyond the curve of land’s fall to heaven’s waiting Gate. And in so choosing then give succor and solace to the precious lot of Lord, found treasures greater than the booty of war or profit. In her beauty she had saved him not by quest or purpose but by simple reminder of those things outside the ravage and appetite of man’s self service.