The Bread

We usually do not ponder on activities which we consider to be a normal part of our daily lives.

Because they are integrated into the fabric of our daily routine, they merge into the wallpaper of our lives, invisible to our consciousness.

Take for example the times when we eat bread.

Why on earth should we give a second thought to something which is so natural and completely integrated into the routine of our lives?

What are we doing when we eat bread?

When we eat bread, we extract energy from our environment and turn it into fuel for the body.

Just like mechanical cars, the physical body needs fuel to be able to function.

Without the fuel we lack the energy to function optimally, and our body starts addressing energy reservoirs of our body.

Since we live in a the physical realm where all things have a beginning and an end, providing our body with fuel through the act of eating our daily bread is just a way of stretching out the death process over a number of years instead of a number of days in case we would abstain from feeding ourselves.

Eating is a way of recharging the temporary battery of the human body.

Long ago the people of Israel wandered through the desert on their way to the land promised to them by YHWH Himself.

They had turned their back on the hardship they endured as slaves in Egypt to pursue the promise of freedom and independence in a land YHWH had set apart for them.

They had been delivered from total destruction by the Egyptian army which pursued them, and as they traveled through the desolation of the desert they were fed with bread from Heaven for which they did not have to labor.

This bread from Heaven was YHWH's word of provision gone out of His mouth, speaking the energy of nutrition for their bodies into existence on earth so that the Israelites could feed themselves with it.

Each day it was readily available for them, except on the Shabbat.

After a while the people of Israel made a very important choice, a choice which showed the inclination of their hearts with painful sharp clarity.

They shouted at YHWH: "We want the meat from the earth instead of Your bread from Heaven, because we loathe the Manna You give us".

They preferred the meat which ties them to a death-centered existence over the bread of life coming down from Heaven.

It is this choice which makes it so clear why they could never enter the promised land.

They never developed an appreciation for and liking of the life-giving bread which their Father gave them from Heaven.

Their souls could never free themselves from the lures of the sensual delight the meat offered, and so they chose death over life.

They identified with death carrying the mask of sensual gratification, and this identity preferred the sensual delight of the meat of the Earth over the word of YHWH manifesting in the form of Manna.

How could this people ever claim the legacy of the freedom of the promised land with a mind set on the identity which was rooted in death and slavery?

The promised land could only be entered in faith, and faith comes from Heaven, just like the Manna they loathed.

On the stage of life there's a table with two dishes.

One dish has the bread of life on it, the other features a slice of delicious meat.

Yet the meat is the substance which ties us to a death-based existence.

To all who walk on the stage the choice is offered which dish we will choose to feed ourselves with.

To partake of the bread of life we choose to nourish ourselves with life from Heaven and deny ourselves the sensual pleasures of the meat which bind us to earth.

We cannot partake of both, since either we satisfy our appetite with the bread of life or we fill it with the bread which ties us to earth and its dualistic frame.

Satisfying our appetite with one destroys the appetite for the other, so we have to choose which food we shall partake of.

When we prefer the meat of this earth, we feed ourselves with that which ties us to death.

That meat does not have everlasting energy of life within itself.

It serves to fuel the battery of the body, which has a limited time-span set upon it.

The energy we get from the meat of the earth is limited and comes from a limited source of energy.

Yet the energy we get from the bread of life is without end because it comes from an unlimited Source of Existence.

When we eat of the bread from Heaven, we can feed ourselves with that which binds us to life, the living Bread Who came down to replenish and energize our Soul and Spirit.

Yahshua was the Word which proceeded out of YHWH's mouth manifesting as our Manna to feed our hungry souls with eternal life.

The generation of Hebrews which was born in bondage of slavery could never loosen itself from the yoke of slavery by their own strength.

When they were given the opportunity to rely on the Greater Strength, they chose the meat of the earth over the bread of heaven, death over life.

They set their compass to death, and they found death in their desert.

It took another generation not born under the yoke of slavery to be able to inherit the promised land.

The choice offered to Israel has not changed since they left their house of bondage.

Depending on the inclination of our soul we can choose for the meat on the table which binds us to a death-centered existence in the corrupted flesh, or we can choose for the Bread of Heaven which binds us to a life-centered existence in the Spirit.

The Glasses

We all wear glasses.

Invisible glasses as window panes of our mind.

Through these windows our mind we see a vision of the world, a vision painted in the image of the windows.

These windows shape our walk through life, just as our walk through life shapes the windows.

They determine how we experience the world, just as our experience of the world determines the clarity of our view through the windows.

The glasses paint life in certain colors, just as we paint the lenses of these glasses in the color of our walk through life.

Our entire life went into the fabrication of these glasses.

The result of our effort is presented to us in the vision we behold through our glasses.

These glasses were given their shape and form by the environment we were placed in.

Some glasses turned out very warped, because they were forged in a warped mold which brought forth these glasses.

Other glasses appear very average and normal, blending in perfectly with the others, yet if you look through their lenses you will see a distortion of the picture of the world as it really is.

You notice the distortion because you are accustomed to a different view through the windows of your mind.

We have assisted in the fabrication of these glasses by donating each fiber of the emotion rising from our reaction to the mold we were placed in.

Each of these fibers were integrated in the various layers of the lens, and they colored the lens in the image of the mold.

Thousands, millions of fibers we layer together as we go through life, and they present to us their colored view of life.

What we see is not life itself, nor do we behold the world.

We behold the color of the lens, and what we see is the impression created by the collective of fibers.

We see an image painted by strands of emotions buried and hidden in the mosaic of the lenses.

Each day we wake up wearing the same old familiar glasses, and even in our dreams these glasses paint the dream in the image of their colors.

We may go through the same routine today as yesterday, in the exact same setting of our environment, yet our glasses are able to paint them in completely different colors.

We may behold a depressing view where the day before we saw happiness, and yet, nothing in the world really has changed to merit a different classification.

The only thing which changed was the view we beheld through our glasses.

The world today is as it was yesterday, yet we do not see the world, neither today, nor yesterday.

We saw a vision presented to us by our glasses, and this vision has become the home of our world, the seat of who we are.

We do not know the world, nor can we know it, because we are trapped in a projection of our glasses, visitors in a still life detached from the motion of real life.

Sometimes these glasses are like binoculars.

We see things close by which are far of, and when we look through the other end, we consider things to be far away from us when in reality they are within reach.

Sometimes our glasses become so thick and tainted with the colored strands of fiber that they paralyze us.

They can keep us frozen in our tracks.

Sometimes our glasses become so obtuse with color that we see death where life is flowing, and we are inebriated by the color.

In the end, the glasses create an eternal amnesia of the reality of life.

We react to what we see, thus putting more layers of colored fiber on the glasses.

The glasses have become our glass cage which keeps us trapped and prevents us from knowing life.

Ultimately, the glass cage transforms itself into our glass coffin.

We begin to wonder about what life really is, since everyone sees life differently.

We ponder on the possibility and the ramifications of the relativity of life.

Yet, to what have we made life relative?

That's the question we cannot answer since we are trapped in the view of our cage and cannot see beyond.

Unless someone will correct the glasses so that we can have a clear view of the panorama of our life.

Yet the lenses of our glasses are thick and resistant to change.

We have grown so accustomed to their presence that we have become our glasses and what they tell us about the world.

To put aside our glasses means to put aside ourselves, and how can we do that?

How can we change our glasses when we do not know the kind of glasses which can give us a view of life as it really is?

We need Someone who carries perfect glasses, glasses which do not distort the reality of life, but which give an accurate view of life as it really is.

The One who carries these glasses knows exactly which glasses can give us a correct view of life, since He Himself fabricated these glasses fiber upon fiber, just as we have made our tainted glasses.

Only whereas the fibers we used for our glasses cause a distortion of life and truth, Yahshua uses crystal clear clean fibers which are part of perfectly clear lenses.

He made those glasses with the materials handed to Him by the Master Glassmaker, exactly in accordance with the instructions given to Him.

If He can make glasses for us so that we can wear them, we too will finally be able to see the real life.

What we need are these Son-glasses, the only ones which can give us a perfect vision through the untainted lenses of faith.
Without these glasses we will always see an image of make-belief through the tainted window panes of our minds.

The Cage

I am tired.
Tired from running all my life, yet getting nowhere.
I run all day long, yet at the end of the day I am exactly where I started, nothing changed.

What's the point of running all day long when all you have to show for spending all of your energy is a racing heartbeat?
Yes, it's better than sitting still all day long and growing into a big lump of motionless meat, but if running without end never gets you anywhere, it feels like an extravagant waste of energy.

If I step away from the spokes of the big wheel, the limited space does not allow for long sprints, and whether I leap forward, backward or to the side makes no difference.
It's just a small cage, and basically it forces me to stay where I was put.

If I really want to run outside of the spokes, I have to open the door of this cage of my existence, but I can't. 
I am not physically equipped to the point where I can apply the required skill to open this door.
The door only opens when one of the mighty ones unlocks it, but if I move closer to the door after they have opened it, they are quick to push me back.

I have tried to escape a couple of times.
I waited until the mighty one who opened the door was looking away from me, and then I jumped, fell to the ground, and I started running and running and running.
Yet no matter the distance I ran, I discovered that I was simply running in a larger box than my own cage.
Yes, there were parts of the walls which could be opened and shut, yet basically they led to different compartments of the box.
It might be fun for a couple of days to live in the bigger box, because it looks as if you are free, and you have plenty of space to run.
But in the end, the result is the same: you can run and run, but you remain trapped in the box, getting nowhere.

I always end up being caught, because I cannot find the way out of this bigger box.
And when I have been caught, the mighty ones simply put be back in the smaller box.

And so, when a new day begins, I already know that it will be the same as yesterday and the days before that.
Nothing happens, and what else can I do but run on the colored spokes of the treadmill?
At least I get some exercise, and that is always better than just sitting in the cage like a lump of dead meat wrapped in fur.

When I am running I feel a little better, and sometimes when I close my eyes, I can see myself running through the green, breathing in fresh air, and feel the wind against my face.
These moments are the only things which keep me going, chasing after the trail of the wind to take my mind off the dull dead existence in a small cube placed in a bigger cube.

The mighty ones have made some sort of contraption right next to my cage.
They attached a red and a blue cord from my treadmill to this contraption, and on top of it there's a little light bulb.
Every now and then they replace the light bulb with another one with a different color.
Whenever I start running on the treadmill, this light bulb starts to glow, and the mighty ones love that.
The harder I run, the brighter the glow of the light bulb, the louder the sound of their laughter.

They love to be entertained.
They even haven built a large prison of boxes where they keep all kinds of animals.
Then they walk past the boxes and point and shout at the animals, taking pictures, laughing and cheering all the time.

They even have taken the king of the jungle and placed him in a prison.
A lion loves to hunt and chase after his prey, but living in a box has sedated the king.
All he does is lie on the ground, moving to and fro a bit, basically getting nowhere, like me.
They simply don't care anymore, because the mighty ones have taken away their joy and reduced them to trophies hanging on the wall of their entertainment.
Even though such a king might tear me apart in the wild, I feel sorry for him.
Because he reminds me of me.

Why do the mighty ones entertain themselves by stripping away the joy of others?
Is it because they themselves have to live in the bigger boxes, and to take their mind off their imprisonment they distract themselves with all manner of entertainment, even if it comes at the expense of others?

Why do they do to us what has been done to them?
What right do they have to take away our freedom and turn us into slaves for their entertainment?
Surely they know what it feels like if someone is cruel and mean to them just to be entertained by their suffering?

It is so cruel to laugh at the suffering of others.

Maybe because they constantly entertain themselves they are unable to think and realize what they are doing.
Could it be that they have created their own box because they have boxed others?

That is one of the very few advantages of being imprisoned in a small cage: you have all the time in the world to think and philosophize.
And I think a lot.
That is, when the mighty ones don't try to force me to run on the big wheel for their entertainment .

I could go on a strike and do nothing henceforth.
But they would simply get bored with me, and try to sell me, so that they can start the game all over again with another victim.
If I die, they just replace me with another slave to run on the same treadmill so that they can enjoy the spectacle of how his life-force flows through the red and blue cord into the light bulb.

I have never known what it feels like to run in the green, to fall in the streaming water, to feel the rhythm of the rain on my head, to smell the scent of roses.

I was born in a cage, and the only way I know about the existence of a different world of colors is because it exists in an another box here in this room where I am.
It's a box which can take you anywhere in the world, and how I wish I could live in that box: I could go anywhere where my heart would want to go.
At least you do not feel as if you are trapped in a box when you are part of the colors and the pictures of the other box.

But this other box remains sealed.
Once I jumped out of my box in an attempt to escape, and I ran over to this other box.
When I tried to leap into the colors of the image I simply bounced against an invisible wall.
I could not find a way in.
I can only watch what the box with the colors shows me, but I can never be part of it because I am locked out of that world.

I think it probably has two doors, one visible and the other invisible.
If I would push the button on this box, the visible black door lifts and the world of colors lights up in the box.
But there is no button for the invisible door which keeps me from being able to jump into the world in this box.
It always remains shut so that I cannot leap through that door and enter the world of colors.
I can only look at it from a distance, yet never be a part of it.

I am trapped in a cage where I am forced to run on the circle of lies, and the harder I run on it, the more I am drained by the spinning wheel.

And so, here I am in my cage, spending my life-force in service of the entertainment of the mighty ones.

I have decided not to run on the big wheel any longer.
The dream of running through the green as I feed my life-force into the light bulb is just a carrot at the end of the stick.
It takes my mind off the big wheel and my cage existence, but at the same time it keeps me locked into sacrificing my life-force on the big wheel.

So, instead of losing myself in a dream I decided to change my predicament first.
I stopped running on the big wheel.

Instead, I run through my cage, back and forth, back and forth, jumping up and down, longing for the day I will feel the wind blowing in my face.

If I would simply lie down all day long the mighty ones would surely get rid of me.
But now that they see me running, they hope that they can force me back unto the big wheel with the colored spokes of lies so that their precious light bulb lights up again.

They try to maneuver me into the wheel with their magic rods.
They poke them through the bars of my cage and prod me in the direction of the wheel.
But then I simply start running to a different part of my cage, away from their magic rods.
They get some kind of perverse pleasure out of prodding me with their rods.
Why does their entertainment always come at my expense?

They think I have gone crazy when they see me running to and fro in the cage.
Perhaps so, but at least I get some exercise so that I feel better, and I do not end up sacrificing my life-force to some stupid light bulb.
Anyway, I'd rather be considered crazy than normal by the mighty ones.
Their idea of normal always comes at my expense.

How I wish someone would open the door to all boxes and let me be free.
Even if it meant that I could live only one more day, I would rather live that single one day in full enjoyment of freedom than to live out my life running on the great big wheel of lies.

I still believe that one day a mighty one with a kind heart will open the door of my cage, and let me go free into the real world.
Either that, or I will die in my cage.
I will be free either way.

But, right now I am just their hamster, living for the entertainment of the mighty ones to distract them from the ugly reality of life in a cage. 
They don't care.
I am just the light bulb that keeps them distracted.

The Robots

On a cold, gloomy day when the sky over my head was an endless stretch of grey, I stood outside the house where I lived with my parents and my two sisters.

I was only six or seven years old at the time, yet even at that early age life all too often was painted with the same drab color as the sky over my head, and I could not help but wonder why I was here on earth in this cold alien reality which offered no comfort whatsoever.
I did not belong, so why was I here in a desolate barren place so far away from home?

As I stood there, looking at the house where I lived, a thought suddenly entered my head out of nowhere.
The message of the thought was as ominous and comfortless as this cold day, and as I listened to this thought it filled my heart with fear.

"The world is full of robots disguised as human beings. 
They are everywhere, in the streets, in the schools, at work, in your home, in your churches, in your synagogues, in your shops, in your hospitals, even among those you call your family. 
They look just like yourself, they talk as if they are your friends, they smile as if they like you, they act as if they have your best interest at heart, and as long as you go along with them they will show you the face of a friend, a teacher, a father, a mother.
Yet beneath the surface lurks something which uses the mask of human expressions to lure you in so that it can get hold of you, and begin to change you in its image, transforming you into another mask in the crowd, a human shell hiding a mechanical destructive force.
Be careful, for if they draw you in and they lull you to sleep, you may wake up as a robot, just as they are".

I did not fully understand this thought when it entered my mind, yet there was something very real about it. 
It warned me, yet I failed to comprehend what I should do to avoid becoming a robot.
I was not a robot and I did not want to become one.

'The world is filled with robots dressed up as human beings'.
Prior to that moment I had my brushes with some of the robots in this world, and even at that early age I had an awareness of the fact that this world is not a very safe place.
Even before my first day at school I had a deep knowing in my heart about the nature of this place where my spirit was sent, and I was very careful, even as a toddler, as long as I can remember.

One day as I was playing in the backyard, a stranger came by the house, asking me to come to him so that he might give me candy. My older sister, always drawn to candy like an iron nail to a strong magnet, urged me to go to the stranger and accept the candy. 
Yet, somehow, something within me warned me not to reach for the candy, and let it remain in the hands of the stranger.

I understood: the robots of this world entice you with their candy so that you come into their domain where they can devour your essence and supplant it with their mechanical cogs which make you compatible with their cog mentality and their cog-system. 
You become a fellow cog in the great big wheel, yet where I came from there were no cogs, only living spirits. 
How could I possible trade in my spirit to become a stupid mechanical cog?

And so, I let the candy pass, and I ran away, and I have been running ever since.
I do not want this candy, because it reminds me of what I was told on that cold day under the steel grey expanse: beware of the robots, because they exist for the sole purpose of creating robots out of other human beings.

In the days when I was still a toddler, I lived in a small village.
One day, the neighbors took a pig from their backyard, and I was curious about what they were going to do.
Apparently the pig knew something I did not, since it was squealing as loud as it could, protesting every step as it was getting closer to the backdoor.

Why would it make so much noise as it was lead to the backdoor of the house?

In spite of the protests of the pig, it was taken closer and closer to its destination, and by then the squeals of the pig were an incessant loud cry for help piercing my eardrums. 

Yet I was small, and I did not know what I could do about it.
What was I supposed to do, what was I supposed to prevent from happening?
It sure did not sound or look good to me.

I watched as they held the pig still to prevent it from running away, when suddenly a loud bang silenced the screams of the pig abruptly and permanently, and I knew that these people next door, which I trusted, had killed an animal they had fed and cared for.

What made them change their minds that they first could love and care for an animal, and then murder it?
Was their show of love and affection nothing but pretence, a mask they put on their faces to hide their true intentions?

From that moment on I vowed never to set foot in their house again, for I figured that if they were able to kill an animal just so that they could devour it, who knows when it would be MY turn to be taken to their back door, and to be served on their dinner plate.
I'm not food, and my personal ambition to end up on the wrong side of the dinner plate was non-existent.

Somehow, this scene from my childhood illustrated the nature and character of the force which drives the robots.
The robots pretend to love you and take care of you, they feed you and give you a sense of belonging and approval, with the purpose of taking you to their backdoor that they can kill you and serve you on their dinner plate.
That is the ultimate destiny of ALL robots.
Although they are rewarded for being good obedient robots, they make themselves blind with their rewards which hang as trophies on the walls of their comfort zone, because ultimately they too are taken to the backdoor and shot dead.

They do not realize that the trophies on the walls of their comfort zone hide the bars of their prison cell.

The robots are an integral part of the deceptive dog-eat-dog system, where every eater is eaten when they are served on the dinner plate of the hidden force within the robots.

I know that as an adult I look at these scenes from childhood from a different perspective and understanding.
But still, all the scenes of my childhood interconnect and spell out a consistent story with a deeper meaning which I did not understand when I was yet little, yet the message began to unfold its clarity to me later in life, as I was suffering from the damage in my soul and the part I had played in it.

Looking back across my life I can see so clearly the hand of the Director Who sent me to this school of life to learn my lesson and make the choice to love Him.

There are themes and scenes, some of which were unpleasant to go through, while others were as sweet as honey.
Combined they are part of the vision YHWH had for my life when He created me.

YHWH's school of life is meant to bring forth what He has put within us, His secret anointing we received even before this school came into existence. 

YHWH's school draws out what He put within us, the exact opposite of my experience with schools.

He put me in the world of self-devouring robots, hiding me among the robots and protecting me in the palm of His hand so that I might be made ready for the vision He had in mind. 

He has not ever imposed His vision on me, even though He could.
I have been given the freedom and power to destroy YHWH's vision for my life through the choice to either rebel against Him and thereby reject His vision, or to accept and love Him as my dearest Father and long for the realization of His vision, because since I know my Father to be Good, I know His vision to be the best I could possibly hope for.

Be aware that the robots seek to steal away YHWH's vision for your life by seducing you to partake of their candy, and supplant that vision with the projection of a false image of a pseudo-vision upon the screen of your soul.
To believe in the latter vision you first must doubt and reject the original vision, but if you do so, for whatever reason, know that you have traded in excellence for mediocrity, splendor for dullness,  magnificence for insignificance. 
You will have exchanged the wide array of colors for a uniform shade of drab grey.
Is the candy worth that price?

For each one of us YHWH has a vision of excellence in mind, and it does not matter whether you are having dinner in a palace right now, or whether you live in a cardboard box on the streets.
The vision is there, and we are being led to fulfill this vision, and when it is complete it will shine in its perfection. 

All we need to do is to believe, and live in acceptance of YHWH's vision.

You are loved, and do not led your circumstances lead you to doubt that and believe otherwise.
Everything happens for a reason, and we have to learn to abide in full trust and faith in our Creator, trusting in the fact that He has a vision for each one of us, and this is a vision of excellence, not of mediocrity.

And trust me, if you believe and walk in your faith, you WILL shine, and the robots will hate you, for you remind them of what they have sold to become what they are.

Preface:

A question suddenly popped up in my mind: what would I write if I was asked about my experience with school?

And so, I began to write.

As I was writing, inspired by YHWH I mentioned Lucy, and a song the Beatles once wrote was brought to my mind, 'Lucy in the sky with diamonds'.

When I searched for the lyrics of this song, I noticed that the first line of the song is 'Picture yourself in a boat on a river', and I thought: "What a coincidence, only a short while ago I was given a dream about YHWH's boat on a canal vs. the boat of the adversary".
I posted this dream prior to this entry in my blog.

Of course, it is not a coincidence, but instead it shows the hand of the Director of my life, shaping me and moving me in certain directions where I need to go, lighting up themes as I move along.

In a very subtle way by means of asking me the initial question, YHWH led me to write the next post.

The COG-existence

My first day at kindergarten went like this:

The teacher gave us a paper with a drawing of what I remember to be a fish, and she told us to color this drawing.

Given my exuberant enthusiasm and creative drive, together with my great love for an exotic vibrant mix of different colors, I pursued this activity with great vigor, proudly presenting the colorful result of my artistry to the teacher, naively assuming her to have the 'eye of a master', able to assess and appreciate true art.

And so, after letting her masterful eye slide across the wild array of colors on the paper, a kind of wisdom alien to me at that time and even eluding me at this present moment caused her to tear up the work of art I had presented to her.

I was left feeling as if I had committed the greatest imaginable crime against humanity at the early age of only four years old, a little Nero in need of stern correction to prevent me from setting the village on fire.

I guess this correction simply did not suffice, because throughout the years I often dreamed about setting fire to school in order that I might be free from its yoke of drab slavery.

School and I never became friends, we simply did not match. 
I did not like school then, and I never have developed any semblance of liking school during the years which followed.

Did my teacher not understand expressionism, or was she testing me in some odd, slightly psychotic yet deeply disturbing way by her display of what seemed like a complete lack of didactic and psychological insight on her part?

Or could it be that instead of burning me on the altar of a pagan deity my parents had decided to stretch this sacrifice over the time-span of my entire youth in order to receive the greatest blessing from this devil in disguise?

Had I entered a twilight zone of a parallel world where monsters disguised as teachers delighted in torturing the young souls as they were rendered into their care?

All these questions raged through my young upset mind, unable to come up with an accurate assessment of the situation.

As the teacher handed me over another copy of a paper with a drawing of a fish, she told me to start over again, and to make sure that this time I would color the drawing exactly within the lines of the drawing, and I was forbidden to mix the colors together.

And with fear in my heart I began to wonder if this perhaps was not the beginning of a hellish eternity where I would be forced to color the same drawing over and over again, only to witness how the teacher would tear up my work of art, telling me to start over again.

Although not entirely factually correct, this last thought was not far off the mark.

My first day at school provided me with an important lesson of what life was all about, and what was required of me in order to be accepted and grow into a success in life: learn to color within the lines.

Based upon his tenet of faith schools end up serving in the capacity of correctional institutes to make sure that at the end of the line a corrected and conformed cog in the great wheel which makes this world go round is released, a cog with a conformed mind-set so that it fits in well with the other cogs at the office, or the cogs at the local church or the local bar.

What's the difference anyway, one group at the bar gets high on booze, while the other group at church gets high on religious sounding words and rituals.

Both have learned to color within the lines of the group, and as result the members of this group are rewarded with social acceptance and a place within the group.

Whereas in one group you have to learn to laugh at the corny jokes and pay for the drinks when it is your turn, for acceptance in the other group you have to become a virtuoso in coining terms like 'the blood of the lamb', and intersperse every other sentence with 'Jesus this' and 'Jesus that', 'praise God', fitting in the right words and phrases to acquire approval and the status of acceptance.

Two completely different uniforms, yet both hiding one and the same heart.

When the watchmen of the towers of the system shout education, they really mean induction, and when they promote self-development they use it as a cover for learning to conform to group expectations.

It is all about lying and learning to conform to the Great Big Lie.

Once you believe, you have served yourself as food on their dinner plate.

A good and useful cog learns to color exactly within the lines, perfectly matching the prevailing colors of the group identity.

The reward is the smile of acceptance and the amicable slap on the back.

If you remain a good little cog you will find a nice pension check waiting for you when your working days are over.

That is, if you are still alive and well.
Many don't make it to the finish-line.

If you fail to color within the lines, they have ways to punish you and enforce conformity to their standards.

You may end up as a social failure, living on a welfare check and meat coupons, or you end up in the back alley having a cardboard box as your home.

Or you find yourself staring mindlessly in the mirror hanging in the back of a dimply lit room of a psychiatric hospital in a drug-induced state of mind caused by the legalized sorcery of witchcraft doctors in white coats, high priests of medicine who are given a place of prominence in the system because they fulfill a very useful function in the enforcement of global conformity to the slave-system.

The rewards for not rocking the boat and conforming to what is expected from them are reserved for the good cogs.

As long as they continue to sacrifice their talent and abilities on the altar of good old Lucy, good old Lucy will continue to lull them to sleep.

Because of their conformity, their life has become their drug, blinding them to the prison they have created for themselves.
They live in a state of wandering around in a never ending daydream.

Being cogs they move around in the same old circles which create a parody of eternity, until the ultimate sleep of deception draws them in when the good little cogs close their eyes for all eternity and face the reality of what they have become.

All their friends and relatives will be present at their funeral, obediently donating the prescribed drops of tears over the loss of their fellow cog which passed away.

Eulogies are given in praise of the good obedient cog, and as the mourners return to their homes, all that remains of the good cog is a disintegrating reminder of a life lived in service of a LIE, an absurd notion of existence as the ultimate parody of what YHWH had in mind when He created us.

You think I am being cynical?

I wish I was.

I have given you an accurate description of life and what it takes for the rats to move through the maze of this world to arrive at one of the gates to the elusive hidden promises.

Yet upon entering the gates the cogs will be forced to realize how they have followed the carrots at the end of the stick all the way to the end.

The gates to paradise at the end of the maze turn out to be the gates into the slaughterhouse.

You decide in your heart to follow YHWH without compromise, and with consistency in your walk, and watch how former friends, colleagues and relatives fall away from you, watch how you begin to stand out like a sore thumb.

Only, it's not the thumbs which are sore, but it's the cogs which are deviant from their original design that stand out in contrast with you.

The thumbs are the ones in a process of awakening while the cogs remain vastly asleep, reacting badly to anyone who dares to disturb their sleep state.

Put your right foot in front of the other foot, and wave your hand just like we all do, dance to the rhythm of our beat and shape your mouth into the words that we like to hear.
Shout 'Thank you Jesus', talk about HaShem without mentioning His Name, praise Muhammad and let a river of words exalting Allah flow from your mouth, nod your head when your rabbi speaks, plaster a content smile of salvation upon your face in your praise and worship meetings, and you will have met the standards for acceptance in the open arms of this world.

The teacher will smile at you and put your drawing on the wall for everyone to see and be admired.

Conform and belong, or rebel and be ostracized.

If you dare to speak YHWH's words when they are counted as a curse, if you dare to show YHWH's face instead of the mask of an idol, when you confront when you were required to consent, when you stand up when you were expected to sit down: woe unto you, because people have been killed for less.
The teacher will show an angry face of disapproval and tear up your drawing for everyone to see, so that they may learn from your example. 

When you wake up and you see friends falling away from you, know then that these friends were just pointers to the gates of deception at the end of the maze, trap doors to keep you asleep.

If your relatives turn out to be strangers dressed up in familiar coats, know then that they were just cogs in a familiar disguise put on your road to keep you locked into your place as a cog in the system.

Your true family and your true friends are the ones who are of the same Spirit, the Spirit of YHWH.

It is said that blood is thicker than water, yet the Spirit is stronger and more real than the blood.

The blood brings life to the body so that it will live for a short season, yet the Spirit brings life to the soul and causes it to live forever.

The principle which is responsible for the fact that the Kingdom of Heaven translates into the opposite of the Kingdom of the Satan, is dualism, Good vs. Evil.

It forces us to make a clear choice in this life and grow in that choice, either for Good or for Evil.

To be a success in one kingdom means being a failure in the other, there is no common ground. 
You cannot be part of the 'getting'-mentality of a dog-eat-dog system and also live from the 'giving'-mentality which comes from the love you receive from your Creator.

Conformity to the world means rebellion against Heaven, and conformity to Heaven means you are alienated from the slave system of this world, the Egypt where the Pharaohs of Darkness pull the strings.

One system is imposed on us because we are born in it, yet this does not mean that we have to remain slaves of it until the moment we die.

YHWH has given us a way out by means of a choice we can make in our souls.

You choose to believe in the lie, or you choose to awaken to truth when the option is opened up to you.

Unlike the system of this world which is imposed on us, the way out of this system is not imposed on us, but it is available as a choice for us.

We can either reject it and remain comfortably numb in our sleep-state, or we can accept it and be awakened to real life.

Choosing to abandon the sleep of your cog-existence in order to wake up to the reality of Heaven means you become an incongruous element in the system of this world, and there are consequences attached to not standing in line.

Which is not always pleasant, but then again, I'd rather stand rejected by this world than fall out with the most noble Man who ever walked this Earth, Yahshua, wouldn't you?

If someone has so much love that He is prepared to go through immense suffering just so that I am able to be restored and have eternal life, then that Someone definitely has earned my undying loyalty and love for Him, for all eternity.

Or would you rather sleep forever so that unseen forces can prey on you?
No, to hell with the world.

It's your faith in the Big Lie which makes Lucy's diamonds shine like stars in the sky.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lucy in Disguise

The Beatles may have sung your praises, Lucifer, when they glorified the girl with the sun in her eyes in the song 'Lucy in the sky with diamonds', but in your decisions and your words you show a darkened, stupefied intellect instead of enlightened wisdom, the opposite of the sun.

The perceived sun in your eyes is nothing but the projection of the longing for a false image to mask the black hole which sucks up the souls of men to fill the void within you.

Your cellophane flowers are the weeds among men, your tangerine trees make a forest of lies, and your marmalade skies choke the breath of life.

You offer men dreams in exchange for their substance, and take them along in your boat on a river of blood.

How wise and radiant can the man be who he cuts himself off from the only Source of existence in a dualistic system so that he becomes part of that which in essence is non-existence, Evil?

How is it that your great intellect could not conceive of the consequences of your choice?

How is it that a light-bearer could be so darkened in his understanding?

How great can you be when your choices proclaim stupidity and ignorance?

How smart can you be when you fill your river with the blood of the innocent and propel your boat with the souls you have scalped, oblivious of how each drop of blood you add to the river deepens your Darkness and disturbs the balance in Creation, how each soul you take presses as a weight on your shoulder until you have no breath within you left?

And still you delight in the prospect of your final supper, the greatest sacrifice in the history of mankind as your boat is sinking?

When your boat goes down, your 'valiant ones' will drown in the blood they sacrificed, and the boat shall be no more.

You shall empty the cup filled with the blood you took.

Just as the cup with Yahshua's blood strengthens and renews His people, your cup with the blood of the innocent shall manifest as complete destruction in your innermost self.

Poor Lucy, caught between the devil and the deep blue sea, for if you do not feed yourself with the blood of the innocent you grow weak and your light grows dim, yet if you DO feed yourself with the blood of saints it becomes a poison to your spirit, driving you to plunge into the eternal flame which you have kindled for yourself!

Shall your diamonds in the sky suffice to ransom your guilt and set you free, just like Yahshua's blood ransomed YHWH's own?

Yahshua's ransom was His own blood which He sacrificed out of His own free will, yet your ransom consists of stolen goods, sacrificed out of compulsion. 
How shall iniquity be compensated by more iniquity?

You CHOSE to make yourself a prisoner of Evil, you CHOSE destruction, you CHOSE to become the father of the Big Lie, you CHOSE to cheat, murder and fill the river with blood.
You cut yourself off from existence in YHWH when you CHOSE a pseudo-existence in the dream of Evil.

You CHOSE your dream of Evil, thinking it to be paradise.
Yet soon it will manifest itself as a nightmare to you and all those who aligned themselves with you, in the time of your visitation.

Should you be exalted and not the One who created you?

Should He who breathed life in you and gave you your former splendor be subservient to that which He created?

Did your splendor originate with you, did your spirit breathe itself into existence?

Should the clay rule over the Potter and His work?

Should the clay receive the honor and glory for what the hands of the Potter created?

How is it that you seek to ascend to YHWH's throne when at the most fundamental level you are blind to the basic principle of dualism upon which YHWH built His Creation?

In your choice you show yourself to be unfit for leadership, because you lack insight, wisdom, understanding, discernment, but most important of all, you lack LOVE which is the essence of the true Creator and an absolute requirement for good leadership.

Seeking to be god, you became the embodiment of non-existence, Evil, seeking to replace the Cause you became a reaction.

Once filled with splendor and a monument to YHWH, you made yourself an absurdity in Creation, for in becoming the god of Evil you became the embodiment of that which in reality cannot exist, but which is given a temporary place of existence in Creation to enable us the most important choice we can make: to love and seek YHWH, or to hate and abandon Him.

You chose the latter, so you and your cronies better prepare to face the consequences, for when you chose to cut yourself off from the Winner, under the principle of dualism you automatically became the loser.
My eyes have beheld the power of YHWH's words when He commanded your boat to sink as He led His own boat to His safe haven.

You may deny reality with the elixir of your dark magic for an appointed season, yet you cannot escape the consequences of reality when they catch up with you.

You may have been Lucy in the sky with diamonds for a while, forcing men to be cogs in your Egypt, but your ruling days are over.

Your diamonds will be cast to the ground and trampled in the mud, and your image in the skies will perish and be as though it never was, a trick of the light.

And you shall fade into the shadow of the flame.