The kings wife must be dead. She was committed to no one and she was unfaithful from before the beginning of their relationship. She was a potato vine that grows perfect to the eye but she was all vine. There was not one potato in the ground beneath her. They never met as God had planned though they were both lonesome for each other. She was a whorish woman committed only to being not committed, like a cheap prostitute giving away samples to build up business.
She gave away all of her favors to man whores, drunks and drug addicts even as he did to whores, drunks and drug addicts when he was dead who were of the same mind and spirit she was and they did unspeakable sins together her and her bed partners; so many times and so many partners she lost count. She became bored with sex and is to this day.
If he saw her today he wouldn’t know her. If her nakedness was seen by him he would not be attracted. The day their homeland died in a war in a far away place that made no difference to anyone she died; her mind insane, her heart hardened by unbelief, and her days shortened by providence.
But he lives on, lonely and lonesome for the dead body of the one fit for him. He never married. He never had a child. He will walk into every room alone for the rest of his days in Earth like so many that found no one fit for them and cursed God that he gave them no mate, no soulmate that they might share their burdens.
But their culture never changed. It died in a protest. It overdosed on the Devil’s little pills or a sniff up the nose or shot in the arm. All their children were aborted before they could even come together and the illegitimate ones she might have bore were all murdered by what the Devil called birth control.
Who will speak of the king’s descendants? Who will bounce his little ones on his knee? Who will wipe away their tears and fix or replace their broken toys? Even God will not for they were not that he might live honestly even in his death and that she would die never even meeting him, her brain baked by drugs, her fertility less desirable than that born of the coupling of a man and a heifer.
Their homeland died in disobedience they called a sexual revolution and most of the earth joined it. Are they not all yet dead, LORD? It was your judgment. The penalty is the same it has always been. The soul that sins shall die. Let me scream loudly O LORD, loud enough to wake the dead therefore.
Who was the murderer? How did he cover his tracks at the scene? He laughs for he thinks he got by with it. Forgive me O LORD God I know not how to forgive him. I have a bitter hatred for him in my heart. May everything I do whether I resist you or gladly do it for you as you actually do it through me, be used against him. May every hateful prophecy my pen writes, every letter that appears on the screen of my laptop be true concerning his fate. He deserves so much worse. Almighty God help me accept that you were merciful to him, even as you were merciful to her, and gracious LORD even treat me with the greater portion of your mercies that I do not draw the short straw, that I am not next to be punished by you ever again. Keep me O God among the living forever and ever for even their babies are stillborn and are laid down in the dung of their murderer or burnt in the trash pile never knowing a place in the Earth.
They have no restraint. They are all completely dedicated to excess like I was before you changed the poor dead man into a rich king with no known property and renting from a landlord that might not ever have seen the apartment he lives in though his landlord claims to have been created all over again with his original spirit, selling liquor to the dead that they might numb their brains and enjoy their misery only to forget that is what they did by morning be utterly miserable and so come to the false conclusion they had forgotten it the night before, that all was well with them the night before as they bear their iniquities, their diseases, and rise and wipe their mouths after that meanness in dark places and say, “I have done no wrong.”
Oh, dear LORD, if only that were true, if only them were the words of the innocent, but they know better. If they were truly honest they would shake their fist at you while they spoke such words. Did they not deserve to die in the place where the feces, urine, the filthy rags of the women who bleed each month as they have since Eve, and the dead animals they found in their pantries, the cockroaches they found in their little ones mouths all lie in the gate where all the impurities of their humanness was placed to later be dumped miles away from the city in one huge dung heap outside the city.
O LORD the filthy animals their bodies have become. They must bathe them continuously. Their filth and the filth of others cling to them even when they are alone in their miseries they ignore as best they can until they are only miserable once again. Take the sight of them from my eyes. Please LORD take my spirit out of this dump they have created where even trash is a superior treasure and useless wrappers a pretty thing to hang on to. How shall I wait for the end of my days in this slum they have made of my homeland and of the Earth that was so perfect and so incredibly beautiful? Remember them no more.
But choose those who will yet respond to the Spirit’s call, to the Prophets’ warnings. They are in the dung up to their noses and spit out the offal but if only a hand or a foot is yet visible take it LORD and set them in the river of blood and wash the filth from their spirit and set them upon a rock on the riverbank to dry off in your mercy. My spirit would surely die if even the last one was left behind only to be beheaded.
Thank you gracious LORD for your mercy for not one you ever intended to save was lost in the end and I know it, look at the miseries you have brought me out of, miseries I would have died to get out of or killed someone to be better than I thought even you were.
Keep me from hell O LORD though I am deserving. Keep me from Torment though my incorruptible, perpetual, body deserves it for I was among the living though barely born. Jesus of Nazareth the sins you bore for me! How bittersweet to my heart for it in its immaturity still longs to be punished for the sins of the Earth even as was my God, my Savior, my holy Brother, my LORD, my King and the foremost of any Friend I may ever have though I live on without any end to it.
My God how I love you. Father-? Forgive me but I do so love them also. May someone of them read these words and put their hand up so that at least their fingers are above the dung heap and take their filthy hands and pull them out, O LORD I pray. One more LORD? Just one more, please loving Father! May it be one even in Bemidji my King, the king’s Lord. Amen.
Look Father! Look at what they put in the stead of their dead spirit’s misery. They sleep long hours and then after a short time sleep again even longer hours until at last their brain is so rested even it tells them their spirits are deceased, that there is no difference between them and a corpse.
But their sleep is not sleep but a nightmare they find better than being awake in the nightmare of their existence as they allow their dead spirit to wait for the death of their bodies that it might end knowing in their soul, that is just the beginning after they have become all they have ever been, complete at last but at last only that which brings them misery and more miseries without end until the final distraction wherein they are in real agony and it feels so good not to ever have to think about what they were, made new in everlasting agony where even the devils are relieved not to have to realize the consequences they deserve, consequences no human brain can comprehend or understand among the secrets in your minds in the truth that was before you created even them who cannot even begin to sense how you ever did it that were there to see it come about.
Where their bodies are awake and their minds see what they have created to be their environment they become ugly and mean, angry at themselves which they were to begin with but that anger is turned outward toward their caregivers, roommates, family or friends who care for their creature’s needs while they are sleeping, a nobler thing they feel in their hearts they should be grateful for. But they are not grateful for it but guilty their caregivers are less miserable than they are and they have once again added to the combined misery of both themselves and their caregivers locked in a larger room than they were in that is their environment with your light a naked light bulb shining at a height they cannot reach it once again as convicted they return to their creation to sleep again and again and then once again.
They finally turn to Satan and his scientists for help and they give them medication that allows them to sleep less and numbs the pain of their misery. They enjoy their jailer’s pity and do anything he says, say anything he wants, and believe any thing he wants them to believe in order to create a new environment they find more pleasing than your naked light shining on their dead soul and they curse you by believing the Devil’s lie that he is you and you are him as they pretend it is not so that all they had to do was accept your wonderful gift of the rebirth of their original spirit that they might start over again with the truth of that they were even in the womb before their mothers dumped them out into the world.
The truth is so harsh to the dead. They do not know what to do with it. They know that if they kill themselves it is the same in hell where they await in misery the final merciful end.
They can cut themselves to distract themselves from the pain in their spirit. They can even maim or mutilate themselves if cutting doesn’t last long enough to suit them.
They hate themselves for having never thought of an answer in their stupidity. They curse themselves and call themselves stupid and fat and ugly and worthless, anything that allows them to escape the truth they are evil and dead with no way out of the mess they have created of the precious potential you give everyone at birth and then some even at rebirth freely.
All they have to do here in Bemidji just like every place on earth is admit it is true and cry out to you to just let their spirit end to be no more as had they never been anything you might ever remember. It makes no sense to them because they are dead. But it is not an end but a beginning place, the truth they cannot help but know; they are dead and they will not be remembered should even their spirit die.
The LORD will help them though. He knows they have spoken truly and he is full of mercy and loves the truth above everything else but the reality he has created for them that they might live forever and ever in perfect love, his love which will be in them, with them and upon them as they love not only him, not only others but even themselves for they can see nothing in themselves but his Spirit, his Truth and his never ending Power.
Cutters, you understand torment is better than the perpetual misery caused by a guilty conscience for allowing yourselves to have taken up the ways of our common enemy and created a place in hell on earth for yourselves following the ways of what he does which has nothing to do with creation but is damnation, destruction and murder which requires some meaningful distraction from your all consuming misery.
The devilish scientists in this case psychologists feed them more of the devil’s lies, and little pills but the lies are the lies he tells even himself in order to escape his own misery, and they rebuild a house of cards with no truth for a foundation, no self-worth for walls and no love in the house when completed. Then look LORD what they have done! They are not even real. Just what they would love to be. All of them imagining they have actually done something besides imagine they are really that they are becoming, an image they would most love to be like some famous movie star from World War I among kids who have never heard of it or them.
They are happy until they remember the truth and their houses fall around them in a heap. And they have to rebuild on other lies knowing your truth has not changed and that the lies have not changed them and they see that naked light bulb in the high place of their truer creation again.
Satan will not save them. He will only help them distract themselves from the realness, the truthfulness of the consequences, the Spirit they refused surrounding them and unwilling to be unfaithful to them.
So the Devil inspires them to think they are an animal for animals are easier to destroy and kill. They begin rebelling against the truth of their death even their dead spirit knows of itself which is all they know. Their body will die and then comes the truth of their spirit waiting, waiting, always waiting for the mercy of torment to take away their guilt forever and ever even against their will if it must be that when they get there.
So they burst out. They are exciting and fun and the world loves them even as it does their god. They are free and king of the animals as the scientists say, anthropologists mostly who have been taken in by the Liar who have told so many and been believed by so many. They behave as children out of control. They do any rude and any coarse thing they want. They are in their minds an animal after all and it seems so true to them. And they cannot get enough of it.
It is so much fun and they pursue it at a fevered pace for their spirit knows it is a lie. They have seen, been shown, and had no choice but to know the truth of the real them. So they remember the naked light bulb again. So they cannot keep it up forever. They get in trouble with the law. God gives them a disease. The love they sense from those that loved them turns to laughter. They are laughing at them not with them and it wounds their spirit. And the misery returns. They pay the consequences of having added even more guilt to their creation.
The Devil shames them then and says things like, “Look what you’ve done!” Then he inspires them to think, ‘Why didn’t God stop you before you made such a fool of yourself and did these horrible things your conscience cannot handle? You can’t even believe you did it. It must have been God made you do it or he at least allowed you to do it. You are as bad as they say I am. But I’m not so bad. I’m on your side. I got you out of the dumps, didn’t I? What am I supposed to do I’m not God you know?” when actually God was the one that put a stop to it and only permitted it at all because you are free to do what you will up to a point you make it so bad that he knows that if the Devil continues you won’t reach your appointed time and God would have been a liar for God has said to all who died before that their days in Earth are numbered to remind them that no matter what they do it is not forever until it is over.
Then again you know you are dead, that the Devil has lied to you. You know that God hates what you are doing to others, to yourself, to the Devil, but that he is yet God. And he’s supposed to love you, damn it! Damn him! Damn everybody! And your anger returns and you know you alone must handle it or you will go back into the dumps all the way this time.
But the Devil tells you, “Don’t do that!” and you don’t, but he told you that only because he doesn’t want you knowing any truth whatsoever. He wants you to believe everything is relative or in other words not real. You know better for it makes no sense. You are real even if no one else is. Not everything is relative. There are things that are real. Everything else may be unreal or relative to that but it is not all merely relative. You know in your spirit even as the woman did that you’ve been had again by what you thought.
It is easy enough then to believe you have a thought disorder. So you start to straighten out your thinking. But you cannot reason it. It’s like you are bucking reality when you think. Your mind doesn’t want to find out what is real, because in your spirit you know the truth of the naked light bulb and your heart feels that conviction again. But you persist. But it becomes boring running up against the same resistance all the time.
So you begin to imagine. You begin to fantasize, think fanciful things and even wonder about the chimerical. There is so much fiction around even in nonfiction you know it is not all true. You are safe here. You begin to think, ‘What if…” and it soothes your soul. And you spend your days listening to music or reading books, TV or YouTube videos, the sexier the better. You spend your days in fiction and even your dreams sometimes accompany your fiction. You think you are becoming one of them, those you think are normal, but they are also dead which is not normal and you conceive of the idea that no one is normal and that it’s a crazy mixed up world.
But your memories of sleeping and waking and hurting and feeling guilty and being dead return all the way from God originally and it’s hard to even just entertain yourself because fiction doesn’t work either because it’s boring and you’ve vegged out all you can stand. You know you are not really connecting with anyone. If you marry you realize you never did really love your spouse. If you don’t you are even more acutely aware no one really loves you. And you are lonesome but you don’t know why. Who are you lonesome for? Somebody to love? Someone who loves you? But there is no love in the world, or if there is you have never seen anyone that does that for real or even dares to try though so many pretend to. Then you see couples together and they are in love or believe they are in love and your lonesomeness grows and it hurts deep in your soul. And you are lonely more and more now too.
But you hate to talk to people. You really hate talking or sharing about how lonely you are. But all the dead are lonely and lonesome for someone to love. But you realize you have never been loved. Your parents took care of your needs and did the best they could but it wasn’t really love, not like your spirit needs. Animals have that same love as human parents have for their young, some of them anyway. And you realize the difference between you and the animals and you realize that was what went wrong when you rebelled against controlling yourself. You are not an animal.
You are a dead soul. And it hurts so badly you can’t stand it. It is the worst misery you have ever come across. And if no one tells you about God or your king you will be that miserable the rest of your days in Earth and then in hell where you will wait for the ultimate release of torment.
Your king says to you now that God knows you are dead and that your soulmate is dead. The one fit for you is someone you never met that they might have loved you because your choices built a prison of misery for yourself like everyone you may have known in your entire time so far in Earth has done.
But God loves you. If you are reading what the king wrote today and find any of it true, and real and good for your soul even if it hurts, he has been reaching out to you through the king of Bemidji who wants his subjects to all be real, true and loving like God, like him, and the living brothers and sisters, fathers, mothers, grandparents and older relatives and the little ones he knows.
It breaks God’s heart to see you suffering so, just as it has broken your heart to realize it is true and real; just as it does mine. There are days I can barely stand knowing how many of you are out there and how many will never respond to the Spirit within me, to the one who testifies of everything real in perfect judgment and absolute truth, and the one who is really me in this horrible world that is left from all the incredible evil that goes on here, even in Bemidji but also in the entire planet nearly completely filled with dead spirits just like yours.
Tell him now or as soon as it seems right to you that you do not love him but that you accept his love. That you are willing to do anything he says to live and love again when and if you reach that point. Admit you are dead and you don’t want to be anything you have become any longer. Then ask him to give you back the old you, the one you were before you were ever miserable, or lonesome, or lonely or guilty.
You do realize that who you are now, right at that time, you will not be you any longer? You are dead. You have to realize that. And who you are has to cease to be if you are to live. You cannot take that miserable, lonesome, and lonely spirit to heaven. It wouldn’t be heaven and it would be so much more of misery, lonesomeness, and loneliness there that it would be hell and heaven and hell are two totally incompatible places in the spirit, in the truth and in the reality the truth testifies to. You won’t be there if you don’t accept his offer to leave the dead spirit you became behind where it no longer exists like all the lies didn’t really change anything that got you there. And accept that you are then alive from that moment on.
All those lies you believed have to go also. They would ruin heaven for you too. You are alive now no matter what you do, even if you mess up and one of the old lies you still believed cause you misery as God has decreed they will, every single one of them, or you do something new when tricked by the Devil and that causes you or anyone else misery even some dead spirit, remember this: Jesus Christ came here the same way you did except the Holy Spirit was with him from the moment he left heaven to come here, the moment his mother Mary conceived him by a miracle of the Holy Spirit. God can do anything, even that. He lived, he was killed for crimes he never committed because he is the only one ever born here that never did anything wrong ever and he took all of the wrongs everyone ever did in the entire length of time the earth will be here and was here just as it is now and he went to hell to await torment for it.
But less than 72 hours later he rose from the dead having become everything that ever made anyone even you lonely, lonesome or miserable or guilty upon himself and he did it for you too. And that is the most loving thing anyone; God, an angel or a human ever did for anyone. So no place in hell was found for him and he rose from the dead, even his body came back to life and he visited with his friends in Earth before he went back to heaven to his rightful place as God, sitting next to his Father, God on his throne, in the Holy Spirit, God; all three of them one God.
Now know you will be like him when you are completely freed of all those things you ever believed that conflict with what that reality is, what is true so that you can believe it and live without misery forever. But if you don’t finish before your body dies in Earth, that’s okay. You will be like him, a god too in the family of God when you see him face to face.
Everyone given back their original spirit are still who they originally were. They just have a battered body, a misused heart, and they do things they have to learn not to do ever again and there is always a last time they do it no matter how many times they do that or how often.
They can’t do it in heaven and you won’t even remember it there that you might do it again for you will know the Devil for who and what he is and he cannot trick you ever even one last time when at last you are made a god like God, with a renewed mind, a new incorruptible brain that won’t even think the things that were wrong like the old one did, a new heart that will never feel any impure or lusty thing again like the old one did, and you will of course love God, yourself and everybody there just like you loved the dead here after you were made new but unlike here they will all love you the same as you love them.
Now that is heaven and where you are bound when God finishes with you here for some of what you will yet do cannot be done there, and some of what you will think cannot be changed there even as it was with everyone that just went through what you went through. But when it is time you will no longer be a human animal which you never were anyway, and you will no longer be totally non-responsive to God or a dead spirit ever again and each moment whether awake or asleep you will be becoming more and more like God.
Even if you later think, ‘I made a mistake. I am going to go back to living like I did,’ you can but your original spirit, your soul however young you were when it was fit for heaven will go there anyway. So this is all voluntary. Nobody, especially God would force you to do anything you truly and really are against even if you once would have done it or already did it before your spirit died and now is nothing and ever to be nothing ever again Devil or not.
Of course you are free to turn that all down and continue to believe all those lies. No one is forcing you to do anything you don’t want to do, but it won’t get any better ever, only worse until at last it gets as bad as it gets with a merciful God who really is everything he is, like it or not. But I wouldn’t. So I didn’t.
May you all, everyone of you that read this be given back your original spirit, or appreciate it having been given back to you; the same one made by God for God the only good God there ever was, is that God that still is and will forever be; that God. Amen.