[worthy of those addressed]
It has occurred to me that if there ever was a lie, if there ever was anything so unscientifically accurate, if there was anything so preposterous, if there was anything so utterly stupid and incredibly farcical, if there was anything that made supposedly educated and intelligent men look like babbling idiots and pea-brained morons, it is the theory (or even more so, theories, each proving the other wrong!) of evolution.
Taught as fact, contradicting truth, and while in some cases and ways trying to accommodate God somewhere in their schemes, these men have denied Him and rather than coming from monkeys, have made monkeys of themselves. Yet they will not believe me when I tell them creation is regressing.
Madness, are you an accident?
In all your incredibility, can it be possible
That you came from a mere explosion of gases?
Madness, you have so many forms!
One form is to believe that so many forms
Have been an accident.
Bang! And there you began.
And you grew and grew and grew
And grew and flourished
Madness, could as much as you
Come from so little?
How can a genius as great and powerful as you,
Reigning as you do over the hearts of the wise,
Come from a mere bang?
The world raves in you;
You have evolved much farther than they.
Those you call accidents are your subjects;
You make monkeys out of them.
Leave me out of it.
More than that, I’ll speak to them…
Without your help or your hindrance.
One thing is certain:
Truth is not one of your subjects,
Neither are reason and understanding.
You have no sway over them;
May they speak with me.
You idiots! What man would stand and claim
That a Seiko watch could come
Out of an explosion of gases?
What fool could believe him?
But madness has done her perfect work!
You idiots! From where did those gases come
And the spark to ignite them?
And from where did the space come
For these things to happen?
Mad fools! Hopelessly bound in your chains of darkness!
For which is it easier to believe?
That the complex man who devised a Seiko
Was devised himself
Or that he was the product
Of a mere haphazard explosion
With haphazard results
In a billion haphazard directions
Just as you declare of a Seiko watch?
jf fj w nenwqjnfmfdmf,m/xw'[pgjrekq’faaj
jfkf,l; ,fld mfwoggfmgk v r
(Just thought I’d chance it for a moment and see if the absence of order and intelligence might prove you right after all! Did it or did it not? Perhaps more time…like eons and eons?)
Theories you call facts and sound knowledge myths.
Black is white and white is black.
Monkeys, in their places,
Far excel in wisdom over you.
Are you sure your evolution is not in reverse?
Perhaps the universe is shrinking
And your mentality is doing its share and more.
It is one thing to hear such folly;
It is another to know why it is spoken and believe.
To acknowledge a Supreme Intelligence
Is to acknowledge one’s self as less.
To know there is One Who is above all
Is to consider the possibility that
He may require an accounting
Of word and thought and deed.
“The fool has said in his heart, There is no God.”
Damned fools are you all as the Scripture says.
Asses you are, less than monkeys in ways
To declare your shameful thoughts
And teach them with pride when you ought to
Hide your faces in embarrassment
At the very idiocy of it all.
You interventionists! Are you any better?
“We say Yes to evolution only if God intervened
To give man a living soul.”
And who was running the show
Before He intervened?
Was all in chaos, out of control
But advancing quite well nevertheless
To the ape?
Can you produce an ape
Just like your Seiko watch?
Damned fools you are as well,
With false religious flavour!
Will you please God with your conditional assent
To a theory truth does damn?
Madness, you reign indeed!
And idiots pay you homage,
Lunatics praise your name!
Could they ever come as far as you have?
Could they dare hope to rule over others
As you do over them?
Everywhere we look, we see degeneration
But evolution marches on.
“A missing link! A missing link!”
Fools, in your understanding there are missing links!
And until you turn from your obstinacy
Of resisting the truth,
The missing link remains.
Three theories taught as fact,
Each proves the other wrong;
Chase your tails you monkeys,
While Madness sings her song.
Lethbridge, Aug. 1984
Click HERE to go to “Exposing Evolutionists.”
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This was written at a time when we lived in a literal desert in Israel and I could feel all the things expressed, within my soul, because we were also in a desert in our spiritual lives, a desert through which all pilgrims on the journey to the city of God must pass. This writing was also prophetic of events that would shortly come to pass as we spoke the Word of God to Paul, whom the Lord had given us to be our friend. As a matter of coincidental fact, the day of this introductory writing (Oct. 9) is, I believe, the very anniversary almost to the hour, of Paul forsaking his wife in obedience to the Lord, to walk in the Way of Life. The desert is dry and parched, and I am hot and thirsty; We two have been matched as partners in this stretch of our history. The sun’s scorching face is forceful enough; from it I can find no escape, No shade, no water, no nightfall to comfort my soul in its wearisome journey. Miles and miles of burning sand, I scarcely know where it began… It started with greenery, then greenery and sand, and now it is sand upon sand. Yet after some miles I’ve trodden and feel I can go no farther, A trickle of water comes out of a rock, destined for that very hour. With leanness of soul and hungering for life, not a soul for months have I seen, And all my possessions have slowly been lost, ’til much lighter my journey has been. It’s strange how the harder the trials, the sweeter the life becomes; The easier the life filled with comforts, the more ...
Called on a ten day fast from all things dietary (but water) and social, the Lord was drawing me aside to spend time with Him and His saints and to prepare me for the future. The Lord has given me instruction To wait and fast and pray, To submit to this preparation, To accept all, come what may. Come, My darling, come away To a land where there is only day; Loving hearts await you there Where you will rest, free from all care. Come, My friend, why hesitate? I know, you're thinking of your mate. She'll be okay, I promise you, I have yet more for her to do. The time will come to meet again, Not in a bog but pleasant glen, Where you will meet with warm embrace, With joy and gladness, face to face. Your son, Jonathan, I gave to you; I'll make sure his heart is true And when their time is finally through I'll restore them both to you. Moon River Estates, Jan. 29, 1998