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:

Come with Me
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
War Games
The incomprehensible frivolity of those who deem it enjoyable and sporting to make a game of killing and suffering! Such acts and attitudes are symptoms of a horridly sick society indeed. To make a sport of the tragedies of mankind is to demonstrate a madness of the vilest kind on earth, worse than that which we find in asylums because those out and about, free to do as they please, are pleased to mimic the worst there is, though they are judged by the rest of society to be sane and responsible. The judges are as ill as the judged, if they find no fault or harm in such behavior. War games? War games? War games! Play, everybody, play! And play the dreaded things that one never plays again When the real appears. In all its horror and confusion, The incredible, the imagined takes its form from nowhere, But not from nothing. Frolicking souls, restless souls, selfish souls, Dull, simple, foolish and ghoulish; Shoot and kill! Play the game without the blood in sight, Though the blood already gushes forth With its life spilled to the ground.   While they play and rejoice in mock victories, Storm clouds swiftly creep. Even the rain spatters to warn but none take care And none suspect that the rain is red. Now they say, “Better red than dead” until they say “I wish I were dead.” Now they only pretend, like children, Running and laughing, not watching, Until they fall into the strong hands of a stranger, One of whom they have heard, One of whom they have t...
Evolution – A Poem of Tact, Diplomacy, and Gentle Persuasion
[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 And spread! 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. &...
Subscribe
Notify of
guest
0 Comments
Inline Feedbacks
View all comments

Provide your email if you would like to receive periodic correspondence from us.



0
You can leave a comment herex
()
x