We Are Branches, We Are One

"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

English - Chinese Often and for long periods of time does God hide Himself from His called one, even as He did with all the saints and prophets of old and to the present. We desire so much to walk by sight, as in this world, but must learn to walk by faith, by the little given knowledge of the unknown, the Unknown, that we may know Him. And though He hides Himself to try us, He is always there...there is nowhere one can go from His presence. Yet one can choose to do so, and the one choosing so is not called. Emptiness is not a bad sign in itself as one might suppose.   I am ill with sorrow and grief, Vexation and loneliness; My soul is filled with groanings and longings; I look in all directions; I reach out; My hand returns empty; Tears fill my soul; I cry and cry and cry; There is no one to comfort, to console, to ease my pain.   Day after day, year after year, Decade after decade, I wait, I long, I cry, I heave and sigh. There is none to understand. I wait for morning; I wait for evening; I am desolate. I eat, I sleep, I cry... Is it sin I say I don't have That causes me to be this way - Desperate, sad, lonely, unfulfilled, Useless, despised, unwanted? This is not the abundant life; Though I have my carnal needs met And freedom to come and go, Yet I have nowhere to come and nowhere to go. All is quiet, uneventful, drab and grey. Do I complain Or do I merely state the way things are For those appointed to such by Divine order, N...

Though men have many idols, which they worship consciously or otherwise, they do not serve these gods so much as themselves. Idolatry’s purpose is to serve one’s self, to preserve one’s self in the flesh, from the cross. If an idol fails to serve the worshipper in the way that he seeks, he will remove that idol from its pedestal soon enough, and find another, unless of course, he is determined to wait patiently for that idol to produce its desired effects one way or another. Idolatry is inconsistent, contradictory and unprofitable in every way. Money is only a medium of getting. Getting is the medium for serving self. It is serving self until God is worshipped in spirit and truth.   In the Scriptures There are many polarities. One of these Is God and money. A man will make his vows to God Ever so faithfully And fervently, Professing to believe. But let it cost him money, Not another’s, but his own, Let his wallet be threatened And then we see the fruits, The heart exposed, True thoughts unveiled And he walks away, Having nothing But his money. He has his god And his fruits tell it. Though he justifies himself, He is sad and empty.   You say you believe in God, Yet He is the One who gave you What you have. He is your source. But I will tell If you are a bird By the feathers that come, If they come. Better I should wait For feathers to come of themselves To prove you are a bird, Rather than demand That you show me feathers. Feathe...