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.
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