Print Friendly, PDF & Email

The Child of Evil

While servants of the prince of darkness present themselves as angels of love and goodness, they grant their victims in part those things the flesh desires to have without cost of life. Souls are thus ensnared in their own selfishness.

“I gave my child all it wanted. I spared nothing. What more could I have done?” laments the parent whose child is now on drugs or in prison or dead.

How ironic that the sure path to destruction is receiving at request all that one could ask for! How ironic that our way to peace and fulfillment is in denial, hardship and deprivation until the final day!

The epitome of selfishness:

“I want,” it declares;

“I want it all,” it demands;

“I want it all now,” it screams.

It loves to be pampered and cuddled.

It has no notion of cost to another,

No care for one’s needs or desires

Other than its own.

When not obliged,

Its world stands still,

Its heart bound in the thing it wants.

A thousand things a day it wants.

“My way!” it cries,

Not for reason’s sake nor truth,

Not for right nor even good,

But for self, and when denied,

It pouts;

Sullen and resentful,

It eats itself

And those around

Unless it gets its way.

The child of evil is ruled

By its passions

And its whims,

By its ignorance

And its needs so perceived.

At every turn it cries

Unless it gets its way;

It clings to itself to live,

Held in the grip of death.

 

But deliverance comes

As an enemy,

In the form of a rod,

The rod of chastening,

of discipline,

of correction.

The one who wields is wise;

He will not spare for the crying.

He knows the cries

Of a child;

He knows he is not

The cause of those cries

But the cure,

Though the child cries

When he cures.

He knows that if he spares,

He destroys.

The destroyer is

The flatterer,

The sympathizer,

The pamperer,

The one who understands

Without understanding,

The one who cares

Without caring,

The one who loves

Without love.

The deliverer

Understands and cares and loves

With the rod of truth.

Blessed is the one

Who is not offended in him

And cursed is the one who is.

 

Lethbridge, Alta., Dec. 1985

Related posts:

All You Religious
I marvel at how worshipers of God so-called can become and are so much more important to themselves than the One they profess to worship. I marvel at how they worship themselves for worshiping God and how they do worship the worshiping itself. I marvel at how they insist and demand of God how that He should be worshiped. In essence, they are demanding that men worship them for their dedication and wisdom in the way they worship God. In essence, they demand of the One they profess to worship that He worship them! I marvel at the reversals of men, their utter contradictions and their blindness to it all.   Tell me, all you religious, And answer me if you can, About the One you call your Master, Even the Lord Jesus Christ. Do you follow His example And do as He asks you to do? Or have you taken another way To serve Him as you choose? Did He wear religious garb? Did He call Himself good? Did He wear a gold-plaited electric chair Around His waist or neck, And over His head, a hood? Did He ask others to worship His mother? Did He call Himself “Father” or “Reverend” or “His Holiness” Or any other such thing? Did He ask that they pay His way? Did He ask that they kiss His ring? Did He gather a congregation And form a membership Over which He would hold sway? Did He sit down on a throne And put on a fancy hat? Did He ride a fancy horse, Protected by a sword? Did He baptize babies? Or ask for celibacy? Did He lord it over others with pomp And show and...
Mystery
English - Chinese Flattery and beauty are very powerful assets at her disposal and the harlot uses them well. Not only young fools but many a strong and wise man has been rendered completely captive to her seductive powers. Even Solomon yielded his life to her for her promised benefits. But these benefits are very shallow and only temporary, as intense as they at times become, and leave one an empty shell, deluded into thinking he is alive and a chosen servant of the Lord Jesus Christ. In reality he is a whoremonger, at one with the harlot and an express enemy of Jesus Christ.   Her powers are awesome her countenance spellbinding she touches the stones gently caressing their response is instant they grow excited they move and enlarge themselves she takes hold gently but firmly bestowing a pleasure almost impossible to resist "Service me and I'll give pleasure forever - refuse me and I'll crush you" an offer hard to refuse "It is heaven," they say she plays them they ejaculate in all directions their substance to the earth her fame they spread abroad they tell the news and become the bearers of death and destruction spending themselves and loving it so. Moon River, February 15, 1991  
The Desert
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 ...
guest
0 Comments
Inline Feedbacks
View all comments
0
You can leave a comment herex
()
x