I can write flowery, soft words the kind that make you think or those that just make you feel all warm inside.  I can write words that are angry those fighting words that make the tips of my fingers sore from pecking out a bit too hard or my arms tight and sore from gripping and bearing down with the pen flinging the words upon the screen or page.  I can write nonsense, a prose, a sonnet, a poem, a homespun tale or spin a yarn from memories past.  I can write just letters and string them like pearls with no particular rhyme or reason and leave each to connect the letters into words as one see fit.  I can write sentences, paragraphs, chapters, a short story, a book or a novel.  I can write and type that is a fact if you see these words then my ability to accomplish the task is evident.  I have had the ability to write something since I was a very young child.  The scribbles and scrabbles then were crude lines, shapes and symbols but nonetheless when I was capable of holding an instrument that could make a mark I set about making mine.

I wrote lines in the sand that became a game I could play.  I wrote names on the walls in colors with crayons and lipstick.  I wrote symbols, letters and names upon my skin and clothing.   I wrote upon sweaty window panes and frosty windshields and sometimes with just my own puff of breath and a finger.  I’ve written letters never delivered.  I’ve written journals and diaries to mark the day.  I’ve copied and traced the words and lines of others.  I’ve written words as a tune played in my head.

I write to remember what I thought or how I felt at the moment.  I write to clear my thoughts.  I write to put out fires and rekindle ones that have burned down dangerously low.  I write like I breathe because writing is like pulling out my own soul and laying it down so that I can see it and read familiarizing me with myself.

I write with ability that everyone who is born possesses.  We can all engrave upon stones with sharp rocks; carve into wood with a knife, burn in an image with a magnifying glass and the right angle to the sun. At the least we can place our palms or the soles of our feet upon the earthy dirt or sand and leave a mark. 

Writing does not make me unique or special if my words in any way make you feel that way then another source is in action attempting to leave a mark upon you.  If my words hurt the same is true.  If my words make you fear the same is true.  If my words invoke an emotion or feeling then the reader has left the medium of my tangible words and entered a realm where angels trod a realm that most fear to tread.

For you see my words are just letters and symbols that stand upon pages and screens.  The way in which readers perceive them is as varied as a coat of many colors.  My words just drop down like dew, a gentle rain or a beating storm and I leave them upon the page.  You just see the aftermath in letters strewn and connected left upon a page.  The readers choose to stop and look and some pick them up inside their mind and then they are no longer my letters they are becoming your thoughts.

The only real way I can communicate my heart is to spend time with you and talk.  Talking that is my gift.  To take words and push them up from my belly past the thickness of the diaphragm that separates them from lungs that expand with each breath I take up the channels through cords, boxes, into a cavern with sharp objects and a divided weapon that is restrained behind the rows.  A process that should take time but often I part the opening before it’s time and the words come out before they should.  Just as often I refrain from speaking when I should.  I talk too much so I withdraw myself.  I’ve promised myself thousands of times I would never speak again and yet something beyond me compels me like no other force.  I have so much to say because there is so much to learn and never quite enough time here and very few still who like I love the words both the sight and sound of them all.

I crave communion.  I desire companionship.  I covet both to be a part of an audience and have an audience be a part of me. .  I am a social being alone but never forsaken with words.  I have never found a word that I haven’t loved.  I have found many I didn’t like the sound of or I didn’t understand and some I misunderstood but those never seem to cause me to want to quit searching, asking and knocking upon every source that contains more words.

You see I see in part but I have the capacity to hear all and know all because I have unction.  An unseen urge to know what is unseen from what I can see.  I search the horizon every morning.  I scan the landscape through the day.  I visit with strangers in foreign lands in books and moving pictures catching glimpses, hearing phrases familiar and unfamiliar just to hear a word.  I’ve traveled on occasion and heard different peoples with different languages and dialects learning new words and leaving some words.

I am appalled and amazed at what creatures have done and do to and with THE LIGHT. 

Just one word spoken the first day in a not so distant future past and it shot straight out into a vast expanse returning to the Author accomplishing everything it was spoken to do.

The creatures have bent, twisted, treaded, bowed, elongated, added, subtracted, contorted, fashioned and formed just about everything imaginable with what that one word contained and many facts are scattered but who can find TRUTH?

Who can find the Truth with such power and clarity they all darkness is dispelled?  Who can find one who speaks with such authority that all others are silenced by one word of Truth in a world full of lies?

I search for Truth, absolute unadulterated, not pimped out or tricked up just the Truth the whole Truth and nothing but the Truth.

I find fragments along my journey bits and pieces like echoes upon the wind.  Everyone seems to be walking around with pieces and crumbs of left over fragments.  What my heart’s desire is to find that smell of fresh bread lying upon the table daily.  To work for this I cannot and to beg I will not so I search my heart, plowing and digging my own flesh removing all the stony hard places within this earthy flesh just to prepare to have one seed drop so that I might watch it grow into more seed of which will be replanted and portions prepared by pounding to dusty fine powder and kneading and cooking upon the fires of my soul just for one piece of daily bread.

Nothing makes me as hungry as the smell of fresh bread and nothing satisfies my hunger like a good loaf that multiplies sufficiently to feed thousands upon thousands.  Jesus asks me every day for the very thing I so desperately need myself just a piece of bread.  He knows his seed.  I have to study to show myself approved so that when the time comes and it will when he calls me I know I will have to give an account of what I have done with the seed.

It’s not about the economy or what you built it’s all about the seed.  Money or seed you decide because to love either you must love the master and to love is to serve and no one can serve two masters.  What we need is to rend our hearts stoop down from pride wash one another’s feet and sit down at the table and worship the one who served us first, the one who loved us first.  If you want to move forward or you desire to take back what you feel is stolen then return to your first love and do those first works. Go preach the good news the Gospel is the Power unto salvation so heal the sick, set the captives free, mend the broken hearted, give sight to the blind, hearing to the deaf that is the acceptable work for this acceptable year of the Lord.  This door is soon to be closed.  Have we lost our power at a time such as this when we should have the courage and boldness to stand no matter whether the kings of this world extend a scepter or not.  Who hand does that scepter of Truth belong? 

I say to you like Deborah a true mother who arose in Israel, who sat under and among the palms of victory married to the light of the lamp at her side. God has this battle but you falter because you forgot the word of the Lord.  You fear every chariot in the valley and every booming noise from the mountains filled with giants.  God is the God of the mountain and the valley and he knows and sees all.   A single stone in the hand of a shepherd who has proven his sling and rejects the armor offered by kings of this world desired by a people who wanted to be like other people rather than obey the God who created you in his image or do you not remember the woman of the tent alone with the enemy at the door.  She gave him more than he asked for and took up the tools of a tentmaker and carpenters just a hammer and a nail and defeated the enemy.  I say to you that the very stars in heaven shall fight for you in their course.  I remind you that vengeance belongs to God so let God be true and every man a liar. I say to you stand and see the salvation of the Lord the battle is his.   I remind you to beware of the wolves I have written to you that you would be sent out amongst them.  Lay your life down for the sheep.  Beware of those who would add yokes upon your neck that are heavy and cannot be borne.  Be careful of those who come in and sit with you feasting with you and take your words out twisting them for their own pleasures and desires into some strange places and images saying this or that is the Words of God.  They roam to and fro seeking to devour coming and going even using the name of the Lord.  Identify your enemy wrestle not with the flesh and blood but tear down the strongholds and bind the strongman.  Fight against the principalities, against the powers and against the rulers of the darkness of this world against spiritual high places you do so by putting on the whole armor of God I have told you the armor each piece with purpose put those on and stand.  Above all take the shield of faith and remember if any one comes to you with another gospel whether angel or man saying that they have seen me in the desert or the woods or the caves resist it and submit to my Word that I is written seek me and you will find I speak no other words except the Father’s words from the beginning and the Spirit that comes from me will speak the same never adding nor subtracting. 

God does not lie nor turn nor change his Word is was and will remain eternal, true, righteous and faithful.  Do not be bewitched.  Keep yourself from idols whether building or images built of stick or stones or metal decorated with gold, silver or any other shiny gem this is not the building God desires.  Don’t get trapped in the shadows of death.

Dear God Almighty Creator of Heaven and Earth help me to learn to not be distracted in the presence of the enemy at the table that the world may finally understand that not one more drop of blood need be shed that yours and yours alone is still sufficient.  It is enough.  That we all might recall the wine and the bread once again and remember your body and your blood and the grace supplied within to meet all of our needs according to your riches in glory.  Forgive Oh Lord for none sin against any but you and it is a grievous sin.  Hide me in the shadow of your wings; guard my heart as I hide your word in my heart so that I might not sin against you in this day.  Deliver me from the evil hour that is upon us Lord.  Set your ministering message round about me as I watch and wait I pray in Your name the name of your only Begotten Son Jesus Christ the name above all other names for you alone are worthy to be praised.  Your word is holy your name established by from and into eternity and Lord I thank you that your mercy endures forever may your will be done Father on earth as it is in heaven in Jesus name it is written by his name let it be so Amen.

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