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Selfless

There is a deeper place than joy, which I once thought to be the highest ground. It is an ineffable place that I can only know at the center of me, yet only when I consider others before myself.
There is a breed of soul in the world intent upon a thing from infancy, unswerving and full of unalterable conviction. This conviction acts as impetus to action and recreation of the world. The ‘cosmic fear’ that grips the soul unused to the comforts afforded by meditation upon love is a thing foreign to this soul that knows mystery, and awe. Yet, this soul must first know trepidation when it is affronted by things and beings whose powers equal or best it at the youthful stage of spiritual life. There is much to be said for the one who has been nurtured in strength and openness of heart and mind, and so the way of thinking that strikes first and questions later is alien. That mindset finds a better comfort in fear and hatred than in love, for in that sorry state Death is truly feared, and so, by extension, Love is feared—for Love has subsumed Death at Golgotha, making Death only an aspect of the process of Love and existence. Control makes a soul feel more powerful in the face of an effacing fear which, because of his own doing, has stripped it of its love for God and all other life . Some of these fear-ridden malcontents rise above in their witchery, though, and find twisted paths upon which to ride into eternity, yet for only a season until they are judged. There are those among us who, through great intent of will, have made themselves into eternal beasts, and so have stepped beyond what we call mere wrongdoing in the same way that saints step beyond those we simply call ‘godly people.’ The truly evil are unknown to most, as are the truly righteous. The difference is that the first is driven by utter selfish desire, and the second is driven by utter selfless desire. Both achieve freedom, but the freedom of the second brings full communion with God, while the freedom of the first brings a kind of livable Hell similar to that which was lived while still wrapped in this mortal coil—and there is a great payment due for misappropriating the gift of life. As a child I longed for joy, I craved love and friendship, I struggled with anger and frustration, I wept for those I saw to be lost—knowing that somehow I had found a path, weedy and overgrown that it was, which would lead me Home. As a man, today I struggle less, I give more, I worry not for friendship nor for the daily needs of life, and I yet pray for the lost. As a man, I am finally filled with joy, and I am every day more encouraged that Home is truly just round the corner.
There is the soul which brings the joy and strength of God whithersoever it goes. Its work is one of prayer and communion with God, and through that, of exploration of a wide and magnificent world—a world robbed from most by their frighteningly short lives filled with fruitless labor and children who forget them even as those selfsame children become their focus in life. This holy soul of which I speak has been shown the Hidden Kingdom which Jesus teaches of and beckons us all into. It is good to contemplate less upon what God is than what God is not. This soul is a miracle itself as it lives and breathes, for it opens each moment with a sweet sigh and a prayer that this instant, this majestic second, be filled with wonderment and excitement for the things surrounding us all—each of those seconds ready to commune and reveal its own special and singular revelation of our God. I do not know God as I might know how to prepare breakfast, or as I know a farmer living nearby. The Word is unknowable, and reveals only what is required for us to burn with desire for the purity leading to the power necessary to be Christ in the world; to be one with God in the cosmos. I am an agnostic when it comes to my knowing anything other than Christ and Him crucified… and Him ‘poured out’ into His creation, for this is also the only work that those of who accept His call have been set aside to do. ‘God became man, that we might become God.’ Become God? Aye. At-one-ment. Atonement. ‘Individuality’ desires to be its own god, and eats of the Tree of Knowledge until it dies. ‘Personality,’ though, eats of the Tree of Life, and communes with God in the cool of the morning, and is living proof that God has worked His essence into a soul, and that essence is the source of all purity and power, such being designed to form us into servants of God, so that all of creation can be shown the way into the Kingdom of Heaven; into the Realm of Joy. Who was He that spoke and is still speaking through the martyr Stephen? Who was He that dispersed His church to the four winds? Who was He that went down to prepare the city of Samaria? Who was the only One that could search the heart of Simon and through mercy had Peter weigh his thoughts, seeing that he could not survive the judgment of the Spirit? Who was He that prepared hearts for the gift of Spirit, that His Word might be confirmed in all the earth? Who was He that went to the dry, desolate wasteland to be tempted and conquer? Who was He that loved the Ethiopian eunuch, and when he came to worship, He loved him, and when he was returning back home, He ran to him to sit with him to answer, with a relationship, the cry of his heart? And who was He that sought for the murderer Saul of Tarsus, that His Word might reach even unto us, the heathen Gentile lost in darkness and in the grasps of the Repha’im? Who is He, this holy, holy, holy Son of Man?
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About BEORH HOUSE

Dark Literature For The Masses

the tongue is a fire

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