Desire: Lyrics by Desire (Another alter of mine)

Seated before God Himself,

How can I stand to think about myself?

Yet I am so alone.

And realizing this abuse I am taking won’t stop.

Seated before God Himself,

Cross-legged and helpless,

Beneath His starry majesty,

How can I think of myself?

Yet, I compartmentalize my wants and needs,

Realizing this abuse I am taking won’t stop.

‘It’s not safe to feel,’ I cry.

‘Not safe to navigate.’ I reminisce

Upon a time when I detested myself

Worse than my own enemies.

I hated myself because I could not

Feel what had to be felt.

Realizing this abuse I am taking won’t stop.

I have compartmentalized my wants and needs,

‘They’re not safe to feel,’ I cry.

Oh, but still I feel.

Only, I feel sadness and pain.

All this time, filled with endless amounts of shame.

No matter how much I block the good feelings,

For fear of being tricked,

For fear of being used,

The bad still come through.

So much shame.

I have learned to trade love for cheap goods.

Could this get any lower?

Realizing this abuse I am taking won’t stop.

I am so angry at myself.

I never said a word.

Only compartmentalized my wants, my needs.

Hoping and praying that one day, someday, they will come of their own accord,

To see the harm they do to me.

Seated before God Himself,

How can one dare to think of themselves?

Yet I am so alone.

Realizing this abuse I am taking won’t stop.

How can I say something?

Anything?

When it’s just suppressed and silenced?

I further crucify myself by mistreating my body.

I am so ashamed.

How can I reason with myself?

How can I bargain with myself?

‘It’s not my shame,’ I cry.

‘It belongs to them,’

I reminisce of a time when I detested myself.

I hated myself because I couldn’t feel what had to be felt.

All this pain.

All this shame in its stead.

Realizing this abuse I am taking won’t stop.

I don’t feel worthy of anything good.

Others needs have more importance to me than my own.

I need only to be told that I am safe.

That is the remedy.

Yet, so far from me.

Seated here before God Himself,

I see Him rise up and take my hand.

He whispers softly to me,

‘When you are here with me,

Don’t you see?

How can I dare to think of anyone else but you?

Isn’t it glorious?

You think of me –

And I think of you.

In that we are both joined

Helplessly in love,

Under my starry majesty.

It is now safe to feel.

You are not that helpless child you once were.

He says to me, ‘Let your wants and your needs be free.’

Seated here before God Himself,

He helps me realize I can cast upon Him all of the shame

He helps me realize all this abuse I am taking,

I don’t have to take any more.

He looks me in the eye and says,

‘Children of God need know their worth, their dignity.

It’s always ok to say ‘you can’t do that to me’.

How they respond is not your concern.

Take peace in the fact that you have set a boundary

God loves me.

That’s enough for me.

Is it overbearing? A script by Freedom (Another alter of mine)

I only desire the pity of souls. Is it truly too much? Is it overbearing? Yet, I desire so much more. I have a name. My host gave me a name. Asking me, it is ill0fitting for my personality. Is it too much to ask for the mercy of souls? Is it overbearing? My name speaks to my character but only so far. For my heart is not at peace. The chains that bind me are of a sexual nature. Only through no sin of my own. On the contrary, my heart is locked into the secluded heights of a prison tower raised to the clouds. I suppose it has a little to do with the tower of Babylon. I suppose there is some pride there. Tell me how to avoid it. I simply thought that I deserved to be treated better. Is it overbearing? I was a child. My emergence? Ask no farther than how I got my name. There, you shall find the cosmic irony of my existence. It was the first time on this planet that God informed me of how important I was. I could not fathom that I could be so dear to God, as though His second born son, cherished as Benjamin to Joseph – I could not fathom my importance while He was letting me endure what I was. They programmed me, programmed me satanically, to be angry with God. They programmed me, systematically, to believe He is the source of my pain. They did this by never allowing me express my feelings about what they themselves were doing to me. My programmers will have me believe that I should not have to try further for God to bless me. God only ever wanted me to reach out and to grasp hold of His hand. They have me convinced that I should not have to accept His blessing. After all, if I am so important to Him, He should intervene, force me to take His blessings. Bitter, oxymoronic endeavor. I feel only that God should act. Is it too much? Is it overbearing? He should have acted when He saw how much I was hurting. Even, years pass, decades pass, the abuses heap, the intrusions last. Why is He still not protecting me? Have we really not endured enough? Learning the reason I don’t stand up for myself is because I don’t feel it is my job. If God loved me, He would protect me. Is it so hard to see? Is it overbearing? I should not have to do a thing for God to protect me. If He loved me…

A gentle and quiet voice*

I’ll tell you, I watched as you emerged as a small child. My love, I named you, myself. I thought it was a good name for you. One that stopped breath and shut mouths. We have been together from the beginning. We have endured pain together, joy together. All that you have endured, I too have endured. I ask you, is your name all so bad? The name that I, myself, have given to you.

Who are you, Lord? Help me. At all, help me love it. Help me love the name you have given me. After all, it is better than the name my abusers gave to me. At all, help me to see beauty there where now, I see none. At all, who are you then? Are you God? This tender and sweet voice that arises out of nothing. Tell me, surely you are not satan.

I’ll tell you, I am neither. I am only a servant as are you. While you have yet learned to harness service as a tool of faith. I am yet only ever a part of you. I am ever a personality, unique yet apart from you. You are learning. Take pride in your name.

How can you tell me to take pride in my name when even when I was young, my handlers programmed me for sorrow? When I was young, the good memories, even the vacations were orchestrated to mock every bit of my future. Every way I would try to improve upon myself and better my life. They found ways to make mockery of, in my childhood, the man who I would become. You saw it. You were there. I remember now.

My child, what you need now is the joy of Jesus. Nothing else. I know that you desire Him. I see the love in your heart when you reveal to me your own precious personality. When you reveal to me your own passions. In courageous vulnerability.

What do I get for bearing my soul? My heart? A deeper hole? A vacant part? Yes, you have caught me. Indeed, I desire life. Which of us doesn’t? Alas, answer me and I shall consider refocusing my position. Around my own heart, I have erected an impenetrable cowl. Nothing enters. Not even a flaming dart. Is it too much to ask? Is it overbearing? Tell me, what else can I do? What can I do? To make God stand up and fight for me. Is it overbearing? His enemies are rejoicing over Him because of me. Is it overbearing? Too much to ask God to stand up, fight for Himself for once? Yes, I desire life. I even try consecrating my sorrow to Him. You know what I hear? Silence. An echo of the sound of heavenly angels coming to my defense when I bled from my soul when I was only a child. Tell me, what is my name again? I cannot seem to remember.

My child, I tell you now and forever that your eternal name is Freedom. Did you know that infants are born and named with God-given destinies at heart? They named you an unthinkable and shameful name. They named you this to break you down. I named you Freedom because God has a greater purpose for you now. Take pride in your name. Would you believe that it’s not only you? I’ll tell you, it breaks His heart seeing His little ones abused, hurt and cast off. Give Him a chance. He will fight for you! He will use the sufferings and injustices of your youth as the reason. He shall take this stand you speak of and long for. You will be the reason. Your pain will be the catalyst for God exacting His justice throughout the world.

What good is worldly justice? I see the wages of your worldly justice. It ignores crimes of the powerful and rich, can be bought simply with a fistful of cash. Worldly justice. Hah! It is as elusive as the evil one, working in the shadows, only claiming to be a public good and commodity. Where was my justice? The men who did this to me died peacefully and wealthily in their beds, surrounded by family. Only I am left with the injury.

My child, you need reorient your faith. Have faith in God. I promise you that people will mourn your traumas. You will receive a very powerful reaction for everything you endured for Him. I’ll tell you child, there is power in your story. When they realize what is happening, you will receive the love and the joy of Jesus. I’ll tell you child, when they realize what is happening, how far they have been led from the Truth, the true state of hearts, world over, will be laid bare like an inverted and reversed pocket.

I choose to support you. I will support God.

Just like that?

How can I resist an argument like the one you have made? When that day comes, to prove our dignity and humanity, that of which we are made, you will have my support completely, all debt paid.

I accept. I only wonder about the speed of your decision. Do you not want to pray over it? After all, you have maintained this sorrowful state your entire life. Since childhood. Almost half a century!

I say again, who can resist? The sole reason for my sorrow and the longevity of it was that my pain had no purpose, no meaning. This new insight has suddenly flooded that which was empty and void, like sunlight, every corner of my being with purpose and value. This day, I have been named. Even still, ever greater, this day, I have accepted my name. My name is Freedom and I believe in your saving power, God.

Elora honoring Michael

How could it have gone on this long? Forgotten moments lost in time, forging memories of eternal bliss, reticent and reminiscent of a mistaken glimpse of happiness. Words. Full of life. Decorating this page. At the very least. For at least there’s that. Words. Soldiering on. Creating a taste of asceticism. There’s that. At least. Name of God! How long has it been since I have tried my hand at poetry? Whetted my quil with the spirit of one living inside of me? Vowing that never again will I neglect your beautiful and kind soul. The souls of the many within me. Words. Soldiering on. In action, even, their spirit comes alive. I must admit. It is a lonely and difficult path. But one that I would choose over and over again in simple faith. What can I say? I believe in the system. I believe in the Jonathan Element with all of my heart. Times, challenges have come. Ones that make me concerned. But we always find a way to return to the anchor of Christ. I used to believe that I was the only one who knew Christ within the system. It’s not true. For they all knew Him. Only, I was the one anchoring that love like a magnet. Drawing them back in. Drawing them back in. They always knew my Christ. The one who I love so dearly. They were only hurt. How could I expect them to know Him? When they had been hurt so much. And even if they did not know Him, I knew that He knew them. He always knew them. It’s a long lonely and hard path. I am alone. I am on my own and living in this interior world. I am evangelizing to the many within. Words. Soldiering on. Powerful worlds. Living in me. Living in you. I know my evangelism doesn’t stop there. These poor souls trapped up within me. How can I possibly expect them to know Christ? But He knows them. Truly, could I expect Him to know them? But He does. He knows especially them. If these are not the ones for whom He came, I am at a loss. These, who have been hurt so much. It affects their path. They never learned any other way. Can we blame them? Intentionally, these, set up for a walk of wrath. These poor, poor souls. Only bad theology to one with weak cardiology. Words. Soldiering on. Powerful worlds. Who dares say that foundation (the way we are raised) is not as important as the Spirit’s love later on? These poor, poor little ones. I tell you, to give you an example of their stories. One was actually dressed up as satan, drugged, abused terribly and convinced he was a goat. Sounds absurd? Who would believe this about themselves? If a child’s spirit is harassed enough, one can make him believe anything. The reason foundation is so important. These precious little ones are so important to God. More important than his priests and prophets. I don’t see why knowing this should upset anyone. If the priests are serving their flock. Out of love. I can imagine it may leave a bitter taste in the mouth hearing that I take a day out of every month to evangelize to little Lucifer, sharing with him Jesus, hoping he will come to know God. Anyone who hears the story of this poor, poor little one and cannot have compassion is a cold heart. Anyone who may cry heresy or bad theology, has also weak cardiology. I know they will twist my words, what they have heard me say. Alas, to set the record straight, I speak not of that ancient and tired fallen angel. Rather I speak of a mere child who was hurt beyond capacity to hope, beyond expectancy to cope. Knowing that even this is a trap used by the programmers sadistically and for purpose. They know full well the symbolism and the imagery. Forcing a child to believe that it is Lucifer, this plays with the child’s conscience. Being cast from heaven, the child learns to despair. And if by chance, the child should break through the spell and find home, this name carries on in heaven. He is hurt so badly. So wounded. He will not even allow me to rename him because he cannot trust. My child, will you not pardon me the gossip, lay back and accept in and on your poor, dear little heart, the love of Jesus. All the love of Jesus. Words. Soldiering on. Powerful words. All power is gone if they do not follow in loving service. Life eternal waits for you all, little ones. God is speaking to you. So much fear. Such sorrow. It feels I am alone, evangelizing to our system. I know it’s not true. God loves you. Even if you will not fight for Him. He will fight for you. It scares me when I think of what else lives inside of us. It would appease me to know that the thirty of us I have discovered were the totality. Part of me, actually many parts are afraid of the ones who have not revealed themselves. Ones who through torture or programming have been set on paths of wrath, self-destruction and fear. Ones who through gas lighting and mere effort to survive have become loyal to the ones who programmed us. There is an entire world fighting against us. But we need remember our mission. The world, at times, is against us. There are even elements within us that fight against us. But there is one greater within us who fights for us. He is Christ Jesus. This is my own mission. To evangelize and share Jesus with the others living within us so that these poor, poor little souls will be able to help us. Let us remain focused on our mission. My name is Elora. I am a part of the Jonathan Element and I choose to support him. I say this to you, little Lucifer, my gentle alter ego, what you endured was not your fault. Hear your sorry story as from another’s history. Hear it with new ears. Learn compassion for yourself. My dear, days after you were born, you were rebirthed, sewn into the womb of a dead goat, passed through the birth canal of the thing. As the years passed, you were subject to crimes. They baptized you in human excrement, forced you to eat flesh. You were only a child. What choice had you? They drugged you, dressed you up like satan until this you believed. You believe you are possessed. You say you are loyal to your abusers. You refuse to let me rename you. Out of fear. You say all this while sharing with me your beautiful, beautiful passions. Learning about you. I am learning you are just a child. A beautiful child who needs love, who needs to be held and cared for. Can you see yourself through these eyes? I hear you. I hear you now. Asking me to rename you. Is it true? Do you desire it to be true? It is, in fact, you. Well then, give me a moment. A moment to ponder a name for a champion such as you, fitting and true. I cannot tell you how much joy this brings me. What shall I name you? I choose to name you Michael. There is no one as close to God and like to God as one who has had his spirit trampled and stood to survive. Bless you, Michael.   

Property

We were all children. We all grow up. We all sin. We have all stolen, lied, blasphemed, commit adultery. In spite of the fact that all children dabble in these behaviors as experimentation (particularly people who are not raised up in the faith), there is an extra element, which might make a little sense of my experiences. When I was a kid, I was not led onto proper paths. I was going down a rough walk. I am not ashamed to say it because I am letting my actions be illuminated by the light so that all may know they were done according to His will.

I suppose it started much like with the other behavioral problems that began sooner in my childhood. The petty theft for me started to become a problem in adolescence. Especially when I realized that what my abusers were doing to me was not going to stop. My abusers were doing all of this terrible stuff to me. I suppose, neurotically and within my child’s mind, I believed they owed me something. The feeling grew from there. There is insight in the fact that I am a prophet because of what I have been through. And that when these sort of things are happening to a child, their path in life will almost certainly be altered. Or stumbled. It is not my teaching. It is both Biblical and Catechetical and rooted in elementary common sense that how a child is reared will dictate their path. When I realized the reason I was reacting in these ways, I stopped. Criminals commit crimes again. Not with a knowledge of God. Even during my times of financial distress, I was exceptionally honest.

There is a further element of faith, which may make sense of my experiences. The battle between sin and righteousness is not just a spiritual battle. As human beings, we are made of two natures. A spiritual nature and a physical body. Both affect each other. Each complement each other. What happens to one, will affect the other. Our Lord’s nature illustrates to humanity that both Spirit and body are important in matters of faith. And that when these sorts of things are happening to a child, their path in life will almost certainly be altered. Or stumbled. Unprocessed suffering leads people to commit sin. Suffering not endured well stumbles people into this because of the cacophony and discord of feelings, which arise as a response to injustice and trauma. These feelings are not endured well and therefore become repressed within the host. This repression of emotion creates a world of confusion, pain and disharmony within that host person. This is the reason why the symptoms of almost every childhood, interpersonal trauma always involve some sort of behavioral issues while the trauma remains unresolved. This could only be bad theology to one with weak cardiology.

You are not giving me a chance. I worked myself to injury for the Church. I did this because of my love for God and my love for the Church. I would stack chairs, sweep. I even went out in the community to seek donations and sponsors for events. I spent two years at a Catholic community working and praying daily in service. Again, I was and have always been quite honest in my dealings with church property. Why would someone who loved money more than people give half of their fortune to charity and personally to the needy? Once, at my parish in Toronto, I found a wallet on the ground under the pews while I was cleaning before Mass. It had a twenty dollar bill in it. I gave it with the bill still in it to the priest. I could have used the money. But it would not have been honest to take it. I don’t know how else to show you that I am a changed man. So, in spite of misunderstanding and poor judgements, I will continue to pray for all of you and bless you.

“A child’s behaviour is an outward manifestation of inner stability and security. It is a lens through which the family physician can observe the development of the child throughout his or her life. All types of abuse are damaging to children—physically, emotionally, and psychologically—and can cause long-term difficulties with behaviour and mental health development.”

Here is a great link to a study, which documents the importance of childhood social development and the impact of trauma and abuse upon a child’s behavioral development:

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3743691/

Poetry written as a Debate: Authors: Elora and Rage (Parts of me)

This is my story. A part of a story who lives on the inside of me. I am a child. Only a child. A part of me longs only to be heard. Every part of me cries to be heard, to be held, to be felt and to be born. Why should you listen to me? I am, after all, only a child. Yet, a child I am, so filled with hope, so filled with life, devoid of lies, devoid of strife. Yet a child I am, should that not increase my credibility? This here, laid before you, is my argument, my thesis, so to speak. For while it matters to you, my audience, the case I bring today, to me, even its importance is simply petty, built only to give you a glimpse into the heart of me. I say outwardly and bravely that the reason I have given up on love, raised a wall around my heart, is that I have haphazardly been hurt. That timeless story of heartbreak and misery. If only you will permit me the time and space to share my argument, my thesis, so to speak, I will attempt to convince you that love is a dangerous, deceitful game, one which must be avoided by all children, for all generations hence. I will attempt to convince you the reasons as to why I feel you too, should develop a strong and powerful wall around your heart.

Permit me, also, the time and space, I implore you, dear reader, to interject and present to you with a different side to the story. I too, am only a part of the story who lives inside of me. And likewise, my credibility and tragedy exists in that I am only a child. Only a child. Yet, I ask my opponent who also lives inside of me, though perhaps he may not, at times, desire it to be, the case, that while children we both should be, so full of hope, so full of life, what is the reason this hope and life should die? It’s as though, in a moment, my opponent should have simply grown elderly and miserly. We both cannot afford to live in that bitter eternity. So, you ask, what is my argument? My thesis, so to speak is in that in spite of difficulties that come and heartbreak that stay, love is always worth fighting for, regardless of the pain, regardless of the hurt, we have got to make it work, we have got to find a way. You ask me again to make known my credibility, what I have said was already utilized, you say. As though an argument in debate were a cup of fine wine, once gone, irreplaceable. But, what could I know of wine? For I am only a child. I do know that of all the stories who live on the inside of me, my story is a particularly unique one. I am unique in that I am the only one of us who has accepted the Spirit of Love fully. I am the only one to accept that liberty. In this lies my true credibility.

Kind audience, return now your attention and interest to me. For verily, I pray that you will not find the obvious truth – that in this debate – I am the only one worthy of attention, to be a fallacy. For indeed, my truth is the only truth and I will explain the reasons why. It may simply bore and exhaust my audience to provide further evidence to my claim than this: A child I was! How tragically futile that I should be only a child! If I were a grown up, I could say something, speak up. Alas, I was enduring hardships untold, betrayals untold and who is enduring terrible mistreatment. That when I should tell, have the bravery to make my story known, only to be ridiculed and humiliated further by the person to whom I trusted. Forgive me if I may seem flustered. As you may be able to tell, I am still dealing, the wounds of a double betrayal still open wide. You ask, what does this have to do with love, with my initial argument? I will tell you, Love Himself kept appearing to me, all the while the abuse was still happening – not as though it had stopped. He Himself keeps telling me, whispering in my ear, that I need only tell my story, someone, anyone and after, I will be able to be happy. My life will be filled with love and glory. While I wait, wait patiently for my abusers to change, to repent of their own dignity, they beat and shame me for being disobedient. They threaten those dear to me. All I am saying, is look at what good trusting love got us. Only further ridiculed, betrayed and abused.

But wait!

No, you wait! You shall get your turn. Ah’, it’s useless to fight, to try. How can I express my emotions, which are silenced and suppressed by every person I meet? I don’t express them. Instead, I channel them repressing them for the day I know will come when I can express them all at once. Oh, glorious day! While it may be useless to try, I shall focus, try now for the sake of this debate, for the sake of my dear audience. It is a game. I carry so much anger. I am overwhelmed by so much shame. I cannot trust myself. I refuse to trust others. I am the reason we cannot accept love. Yet, there is a deeper part of me that simply and only wants to give a woman a flower. Maybe something could develop. Who knows! Oh, you are right! How have I become so bitter? It’s the repressed feeling, the repressed feeling that lives on the inside of me. It keeps my soul from liberating. How could I have become so bitter? Help me open my heart!

Take it from me, my dear friend in eternity – alas a dear friend in identity you are. I shall pray for you. But what you need requires a more urgent remedy. I’ll tell you, dear reader that the evidence I am offering is connected also to my story. You ask, what happened to me? For I also am abused terribly. I am hurt, betrayed and alone, tired and poor. An intelligent man may consider: how could there be another side of the story when wisdom suggests that both you, you and I, both endured the same foundation. Truly, we both had the same childhood. How is it that you grew in one way and I grew in the other? There should be reason to hope always and to never abandon that hope. There should be reason to love always and never to abandon that love. When I was only a baby, they traumatized me terribly. Not that what happened to me would cease, as the case would be with you, my friend in identity. Yes, it still goes on to this day. The point is that I tried. I tried so hard and I prayed. I prayed so hard. After a while, I was able to accept the Spirit of His Love. I am the only one of us who has received this grace. Love Himself came to me and set me free.

Don’t stop there. Why don’t you tell the audience what follows in your likewise, tragic story.

It is true. Alas I am the only one who has surrendered to Love Himself. But I was further terrorized into hiding this love within myself. I too, have welled up, repressing our host’s passion and drive. But surely, this has nothing to do with my thesis, that love must endure. You yourself, only just now, were about to open up. You were becoming vulnerable with me. Have you forgotten so quickly about gentleness and dignity?

No, no, no. You raise a good point in your pondering on the cosmic mystery, the worldly lottery – what makes me different from you, one from the other. The eternal answer is spirit of course, the will to live. But as you can see, the spirit of any can be burdened and broke if the pressure is strong enough. You asked what separates you from me? The trauma and betrayal of when I told and was ridiculed. It may be hard to see how this could be so traumatic. Fact is that it only perpetuates and reopens the original wounds that were created. The trauma and betrayal and humiliation I endured was magnified by the humiliation I received when I trusted and was ridiculed.

But wait! Love is not dangerous. It is not to be avoided. Love must be fought for!

You may be right. But, in your opinion, is fighting for love repressing your passions and drives given by Love Himself. All I am saying is that we are more alike than we care to admit. I think we can find some common ground in this and unite in our diversity. We can also find diversity in our unity! I just want to convince you that love is not good. It’s been neither good for or to you or me.

Love must endure. It must be fought for. It must endure!

I have listened to the two of you with interest and love. This is a kind and loving debate and as such, I feel it could use a proper moderator. I am so touched by both of your kind and passionate arguments, both of your kind and loving stories. I only pray that you may offer me the same consideration and dignity, with which you offered each other. For alas, I too am only a child. But I pray you also come to see my credibility. Who am I? I am only a tiny baby. But as if that were not enough, for the good reasons you both already provided, perhaps my family will give you some insight into why you should listen to me. My mother was chosen especially for me. The angels visited her, announcing my birth. My father is unknown as my mother never experienced intimacy. Some say that because of this, I am illegitimate. But, I know better. Even now, a tiny baby, I know that my Father was Love Himself. Even the man who cares for me was chosen for me. He taught me authentic masculinity and even a bit of carpentry. Before I approach my own proof and refutation, regarding the matter you both now conscientiously debate, allow me to reach a little further into my credibility. For you both, you have endured horrific traumas and for that fact I also am wounded. I hope you will hear me when I say to each of you that I was there when you were hurt. It was as though they were committing these terrible crimes to me when they did what they did.

But who are you?

Who am I, you ask? I am the one whose birth was foretold by prophets and angels. Even still, I am the one who was born in a barn, surrounded by livestock. Even still, the angelic host rejoiced at my birth. I too, am only a child. In spite of the fact that Love Himself lives inside of me, something frightens me when I see my future. I see what Love will ask of me. Love Himself will provide the grace. But it scares me no less. Love has asked of me to make of myself an offering, an offering for all of humanity. I have seen the death I will die. A criminal’s death. One of infamy. Do I deserve this? I, also, am Love Himself. So, since you both appealed to arguments of Pathos, recounting your own stories, and what led you to or away from me, I also have recounted why I feel you should listen to me. For alas, your opponent is right. I had to tell you and shed some light, upon this matter. When she says that love is always worth fighting for, there is truth in her words. But your point is likewise poignant and worthy of consideration if not pity. For who can truly blame you for feeling the way you do? You have tried and have done as you were asked. It backfired. Love Himself understands what you must feel. Alas, your opponent has made a clear point when she gives the answer to this universal mystery. It is in the Spirit. The answer lies in the Spirit! She has likewise given you the path to victory. Merited, it lies not in grit nor brawn. Your path to eternity is not in your own strength. Rather, your path to victory lies in your acceptance of me. This may seem strange, for I speak of an event in far off days, but days are coming when my sacrifice, my offering will purchase victory. I shall achieve mastery over life, time, truth and even death. It is a difficult concept to grasp. That one should willingly offer their lives for the others, even for those who revile and despise him. You are both children and therefore not accountable for your sins. However, time will come upon you when the weight of original sin will bear upon you both as well. It is for the world, the entirety of humanity that I have come. And above all this, I implore you to know that when this time comes – if you have faith, it is come already – you are now safe to love. It is now safe to open your dear, precious and beautiful little hearts. You may know that it is safe to do so, because Love Himself has offered Himself so that you can be free.

Feelings!

Yes, there is much mental suffering abounding these days. Confusion with gender etc. The example of Dissociative Identity Disorder actually provides a good reason why we need to both listen to these people and have compassion. It is a perfect example of how all mental illness are rooted in unprocessed trauma. It forms only in early childhood in response to terrible, terrible injustice and trauma. Who can blame a person for not enduring their trauma with Christ when Christ has not been shown to them in childhood? This is naturally the fallout of not raising our children in God. Christians, it is not rooted in Truth. But there is reason for compassion. We need to avoid being condemnatory. Too much truth without love is pharisaical. I, myself have fallen into this trap at times. These people have been through hell and have not known the true Christ to help them through that place. We, on the contrary, have been blessed in life. Even if we have also been through hell, we have had Christ to guide us. Let us then, be pillars. Let us not be mockers and bullies. If you have Christ, then you have a grave responsibility. These are people who are the least of all. These are the poor in spirit. Not people materially poor. It’s not in love to call someone crazy who has been through more than any of the world you have ever known. Yes, maybe they are crazy. So are you in some ways. At the same time, we must be prudent. We need be vigilant and assess the fruit. What I am saying, Christian, is that love never forsakes. Love never abandons and disregards. Love is patient and allows the work of judgement to God. It is unfortunately true. Many who have chosen these paths are in the process of being lost. Some will never return. However, if there were only fifty people, of all of these people who were only confused and mislead, would it not be worth reaching out and persevering for them in evangelism? Forgive me, but if there were forty-five, would it be worthy of persevering in evangelizing? Pardon my boldness, but if there were only five, would it be still worthy of persevering in evangelizing for these souls? I remember hearing a voice, nearly a decade ago that told me that the time for evanglization is over. People have made their choice, it said. I quickly recognized it not of God. The fact is, Christian, we are called to help the poor in Spirit, to proclaim the Gospel until the very end, in our words and in our lives. Perhaps the greatest lesson that it teaches is that feelings are not always based in truth. Still, feelings are certainly important. Remember the Father, leaving the 99 to search for the 1 lost. It's meaningless. Let us prudently then share the Gospel with these. Let us not become caught up in hammering them with the Truth. The Truth will be a hammer in of itself enough. Healing is coming!

What does the Resurrection mean to you?

I have a feeling that in future years, looking back, we will be able to say that a great heresy has existed here. Greater than Arianism or Jansenism. For the question we need ask is what do you believe about the resurrection of Jesus Christ? What we say about this fact defines our entire faith, our entire perception of other Christians and other people in the world. When we believe in the physical resurrection, we begin to see other Christians as more than their sin. When we believe in the physical resurrection of Christ, past sin is not condemning. Past sin does not haunt us. This is because when we were baptized, every sin committed prior to the Sacrament, is erased from the soul of this person.

“Baptism has six primary effects, which are all supernatural graces:

1. The removal of the guilt of both Original Sin (the sin imparted to all mankind by the Fall of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden) and personal sin (the sins that we have committed ourselves).
2. The remission of all punishment that we owe because of sin, both temporal (in this world and in Purgatory) and eternal (the punishment that we would suffer in hell).
3. The infusion of grace in the form of sanctifying grace (the life of God within us); the Seven gifts of the Holy Spirit; and the Three Theological Virtues.
4. Becoming a part of Christ.
5. Becoming a part of the Church, which is the Mystical Body of Christ on earth.
6. Enabling participation in the sacraments, the priesthood of all believers, and the growth in grace.”

Source 1

Just because someone cannot or refuses to see the fact that you are forgiven, does not mean that you are forgiven any less. Your forgiveness and justification is between you and God. Nobody, not even the Church has the grace to challenge the fact that at your baptism, at your confirmation, you were forgiven and bought with the precious blood of Jesus. Our faith in the physical resurrection has become weakened. We as Christians have allowed ourselves to believe that the blood of Christ did not cover the sins of the faithful, sending them as far as the east is to the west. We are like the pagans of old who believe that the grace of God were something we could work for. We have doubted the transformation of faithful. This is next to the fact that there are reasons for our sins, which make them more or less culpable.

For is it even possible to make the claim, with knowledge of what Christ’s mission was – of what He accomplished on the cross – that because someone has sins in their past, they do not merit the full forgiveness of Christ? Is it possible, with this knowledge, to make the claim that because of the sins of their past, God cannot make use of them now? Is a perfect life, a perfect, sinless past prerequisite for holiness? I wonder what you would have said to the Apostle Paul when He claimed Jesus spoke to him? The fact is, even if we were baptized at birth, we still have sins. Actually, especially if we were baptized at birth, we still have sins. My friends, I am not trying to scare you. But wait for the secret sins. Moses commit murder. David commit adultery. Not one of us has lived a perfect life. Only Jesus. Even with confession. Again, wait for the secret sins. What could be a greater heresy than denying faithful, righteous and repentant people access to a future in the faith because of their past sins? To do so, we should soon expect that none of us will have a future in the Church. This need for spiritual perfection and innocence is as futile as it is impossible. For what purpose is the Sacrament of Reconciliation, after all? God uses the weak, the sinful. It is precisely in this weakness and sinfulness that the transformation occurs. For to Christianity (maybe it’s not the case with worldly temporality) the transformation of heart is all that really is important. Conversions are not always evident to the eye. And there will always be people to disagree with you. But, what does one’s conversion look like? Does he dress exactly alike to you? Does he speak exactly alike to you? Here’s a pertinent, rhetorical question: Does he think exactly alike to you? Rather, does he have the same political beliefs and convictions as to you? I implore you to consider and reassess the true reasons for why these thoughts are coming. Are they rooted in envy? How about bitterness and anger? Maybe a sense of repressed justice even? One thing it is not rooted in is the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

Besides, if one were a sinner, surely the best way to draw him back to Christ would not be to humiliate him every time he went to confession, by broadcasting universally his confession sin matter. This is not going to help him come and find Christ. Rather, it may push one away. Surely, the best way to draw this ‘sinner’ back to Christ would not be to install hidden cameras in his bedroom. If it were for the good of the world or for the good of this one, you would not have to do all of this creepy stuff.

Jesus loves you and has given you enormous grace. Let us not deprive other faithful of their graces they have earned because of the sins of their past. Lest you forget that you too, are a sinner and frequent the Sacrament of Reconciliation. Wait for the secret sins.

 

Sources:

https://www.learnreligions.com/the-sacrament-of-baptism-542130

A Special Lad – Poetry by Pete

I am so hurt.

I am hurt so much.

I am so insecure.

I have been wounded so much,

That I look to other men for their approval

Before I seek a woman.

Even if they have no interest.

I have been wounded so much,

That I cannot even void standing up.

What’s the reason for my self-pity?

What could cause a wound like this?

It’s about what’s been done to me

And how it affects me.

You may say that I am lost in my anger,

Weighed down by bitterness.

I’d say you were right.

But do me the dignity of listening to my side of the story.

I wanted more.

Could you really blame me?

I have withheld my love from the God who created me.

I will not even support the part of me who fronts most frequently.

I have within me,

The God-given power to co-create.

Socially, I have created many masterpieces.

Literarily, artistically, cinematically,

I have been the author of many successes.

A world most are not prepared to comprehend.

A consciousness that extends beyond just you or me.

But seeks to unite us all in a formal reality.

For as much as I have the ability,

The grace to create,

Because of my wounds,

I refuse to cooperate.

God was so touched by my pain,

By my wounds,

He has given me the grace and blessing to co-create.

So, for many years,

Whenever I would front,

God would recognize me,

Asked me what I would like to create.

In which direction I desired

The currents of society to move.

I’ve not yet reached the sorry tale of my wounds,

I implore you to bear with me a little longer.

Every time God gave me grace to create an element of society,

In a time well before it came,

I would be obedient.

I would create something timeless, glorious, irreplaceable.

But because of my wounds and because of my broken heart,

I would pass the baton.

I would forfeit ownership.

Some voice, whether within me or without,

Would always try to convince me

That it was holy, dignified, charitable,

To offer what I had created to somebody

Less blessed as me.

After all, God has chosen me.

What good are all the blessings in the world

When God has chosen me?

God knew something I didn’t.

God knew that because of my wounds,

Worldly blessing would be needed.

They would offer consolation.

Not a requisite for my salvation.

But necessary for me heart.

Blessings would serve to bring my soul out of sorrow,

Out of misery.

I have not yet reached the tale,

The sorry tale of what wounded me.

Will you bear with me?

It was all intended for me.

My heart sinks when I think of what I forfeited in glory.

Thinking back on the life God originally wanted for me.

I would have conquered the world with truth and love.

I would have ruled the world with an iron rod.

Instead, because of trauma,

Because of shame,

I have imprisoned the blessings of God

Within this simple system of personalities.

Even more complex, I imagine,

When I speak of many independent,

Separate consciousness’ existing within a single person.

So far, so good.

I could begin to sense things in our Creation,

Things that through God’s grace, I had chosen,

Drift further and further from God’s truth.

One day, still in my childhood,

I was creating the future of things,

Of how everything would be,

When God prompted me.

Things were falling a little off course.

I tried to correct it all,

Almost desperately.

While simultaneously,

Forfeiting ownership of truths

Which had come from me.

In a last ditch effort,

To save truth in God’s creation,

To save it from falsity, from heresy,

I created a figure who would come to the world many years from then.

A figure who would through his victory,

Restore sanctity, liberty and unity

To a world burdened by impiety.

I always felt unworthy,

Like my accepting a blessing would

Deprive someone who deserved it more.

What I’ve come to realize

Is that it’s all grace that has been given to me,

Whether I accept it or not.

‘I wrote another masterpiece,’ I said lately.

It was the first creation that the identity who fronts most frequently

Was able to accept –

Or that I was able to give to him freely.

But now the publication of that masterpiece

Is being hindered because of others’ jealousy.

So you ask, what are these wounds I speak of?

Well, I’ve come to realize,

That in spite of how much they pain me,

The future is the greatest part of my story.

All you need know is that

My wounds merited God’s mercy and pity.

What matters now is that this grace is still a part of me

And the future God has in store for me.

If you think on it long and hard,

Little ones,

You may be able to remember,

From a heavenly, childlike consciousness,

That you too possess this grace.

This grace to create the world around,

Which exists in me,

Exists also in you.

I wanted to share with you this little story,

Which began in sorrow ends in victory,

To show you just how much God cares about you all.

It is unmerited suffering that God is moved by.

I’m telling you, if you only knew the wounds of my story,

You would know why God chose me.

For now, all you need know is that God was also

Moved by the wounds of my story.

But what matters about me,

Are not so much my history,

So to speak, the wounds of my story,

But rather, the grace that exists in my future.

I am the personality who is the channel

Of God’s grace in our life.

The only way for me to be free,

Is for the one within us who fronts most frequently,

To accept God’s Spirit and identity.

Alas, how can I accept anyone’s pity

When God has given me a veritable superpower?

Even more complex, I imagine,

When I speak of many, independent and separate consciousness’

Living entirely within a single person.

But very few people are blessed to have only one identity,

No need to heal,

No need to pick up the pieces.

It’s a veritable superpower, I tell you.

Think of what we will be able to accomplish

When all of these individual parts of me,

Become integrated into the whole of me.

There will be no stopping me.

You, likewise, possess these superpowers.

When the great heavenly liberty comes,

When this figure who is to come, comes,

You will be taught how to liberate this identity.