“Beware of false prophets. You shall know them by their fruits” said Jesus.
Eggs are fruits, are they not? And many seem to assume that because there are eggs, there is truth. Eggs are neither good nor bad in themselves. What kind are they? Smiles and friendship are neither good nor bad. Why are they?
Religious talk praising and extolling God is nothing in itself. So then one must have discernment to tell good fruits from bad. That discernment is the gift of God given only to those who have a love of the truth, selling all they have to possess it, even their very lives. The pilgrim on the path to truth is sorely tried and only the true seeker will enter in to that which is behind the veil.
With a marvelous thought I awoke:
Both serpents and birds lay eggs!
Men do not;
Mammals generally do not
But those both beneath and above do!
Many search for fruits
And are deceived,
In foolish assumption
That that which lays eggs flies
And they follow the layer
Not into the skies
But into a hole in the ground.
They follow the layer,
Not to be raised up above
But to be bitten and devoured.
Therefore, my friend,
Beware of the fruits,
What kind they are.
And if you are my friend,
You’ll have the eyes to see
And the heart to understand.
Lethbridge, Oct. 1, 1984
I was hurt by a vain professor of righteousness. Of that person I saw a vision. She was like her kind and her kind like her - light, treacherous, full of lust and hypocrisies. So are all those who "go to church" and think they do God a service.
I once thought I had entered rest when I was first converted…and I had! Compared to the former horrible state of darkness and misery, the realm of repentance was glorious and restful indeed. But I had not arrived. Then came trials, urgings and purgings leading to the receiving of God’s Spirit. Again, the realm of the Spirit was glorious compared to the one of repentance, and I rested because revelations came and great burdens were lifted and removed forever. But I had not arrived. Chapters opened and closed and rest came at the end of each, yet beginnings introduced new fires, new terms of correction and purgings so that I could rest some more. But I had not arrived. Then came a breaking at the hands of dark men. Healings poured in. Sight was increased and lifestyle corrected. We were blessed and we rested. But we had not arrived. Years later, I wrote this paragraph after just having the severest trial I had ever had, likened by the Lord to that which Job had, yet alerted to the great contrast to his. (Job’s was classical, for our sakes). But I was taken right back to my very foundation and was now different than before. Years passed again and I found that I knew neither rest nor fires like they could be. In fire, I, again more than ever, writhed in pain. Rest comes in small doses and brief intervals, only to prepare one for more fire. (He that walks with God, walks in fire, until there is no more need of fire.) Today, God is all in all. Those who enter into rest not on...
"Lord, who has believed our report?" cried Isaiah. It is to the sinner a prophet is sent, but sinners do not see nor hear by virtue (or vice) of the fact that they are sinners. The carnal man cannot receive the things of the Spirit. And because they are sinners, they are the ones who need to hear! So then both prophet and perpetrator, both saint and sinner, both herald and hearer learn of the grace of God, without Whom is nothing possible. "Therefore He has mercy on whom He wills, and whom He wills He hardens." Nobody believes me; They wince when I speak; I give them Scriptures; They give me notions. They profess to love the Lord to honor the Scriptures to walk in righteousness and truth; They have their own bibles Of bits and pieces Tailored to their doctrines To suit their purposes. They hate the Light; They love their gods And their sins. God is anathema to them As He is So they change the glory of God, They take His Name, Giving it to gods of their own liking; They take His words, Wresting them to their destructions With smiling public faces They deceive themselves, saying, "We suffer for His sake; Our reward is stored up For which we have so labored." Paupers, laid in the dust, Naked, diseased, deranged, Babbling vain repetitions, Bled bone dry By the gods they serve, While I remain wealthy and healthy And alone. Moon River, Oct. 31, 1991