Those that Remain available on Amazon!

BookCoverImage

After almost five years my novel is now available on Amazon. I know that many of you that actually take the time to read my blog have been waiting for me to get my act together and get this done.

Well, here it is. It is finally here.

https://www.amazon.com/gp/offer-listing/1508876398/ref=sr_1_1_olp?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1521302711&sr=1-1&keywords=9781508876397

Those that Remain is the first in the Grail Fellowship series. It is just over four hundred pages long in paperback. I haven’t explored the option of publishing in Hard Cover yet. Nor have I thought about the possibility of releasing an audiobook.

Obviously, I would hope that this book would sell well, and I will be doing my best to market the book on my own. But, if you buy the book and read it I would request that you take the time to review it on Amazon. (of course, only if you like it. 🙂  )

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Touching the Light…

Hand reaching towards the sun

Last night at about fifteen minutes before the two A.M. “Spring Forward”, I was given a vision. I had been to the bathroom and upon getting back into bed and closing my eyes, I saw a massive eruption of light. Earlier this morning I characterized it as a fountain, but this was no fountain. This looked like pictures I have seen of volcanoes erupting. It blasted out of the ground with the same force of SpaceX’s Falcon Heavy launch vehicle.

But instead of fire or a column of burning ash, there was light! Probably the best description is of water being released from a dam when there is too much water from a long winter of rainfall. The sound of that much water exploding from the opening of the dam is deafening. But, there was no sound with this explosion of light.

The Light exploded upwards as far as I could see, and there were defined columns of light making up the whole, almost as if there were different streams of light within the release. As the light poured out of the earth (not sure if this was actually the Earth. There was a bottom and a top to the vision. The light started at the bottom and blasted to the top), small strands of light peeled off from the main column and exploded in every direction. Some of these strands looked like sparklers on the Fourth of July, and some looked like fireworks. But, it was spectacular.

This part of the vision only lasted as long as it took for me to realize that this was a vision. As soon as I realized this, the vision changed.

The vision shifted from the volcano of light, to what I would describe as a jumble of images being tumbled in a maelstrom of liquid light. There were people and faces and cars and houses all tumbling around in this big washing machine of light. If you have ever stood under a waterfall; or swam under a waterfall, that would be the same sensation. A powerful pummeling of water that grabs you and pulls you under until you can get your feet back under you.

Then the vision changed again. I was seeing a city street from across a small neighborhood park. The entire city was under at least forty feet of this liquid light.

Then I woke up and began to write the vision down. I started writing at 1:54 A.M., and when I next looked at my phone it was 3:11 A.M. Two A.M., of course, having been erased by DST (Daylight Savings Time). Later I thought that getting that vision right before the time change could be significant. But, I have no clue what that might be.

Instantly I asked The Lord what I had seen. I heard that I was seeing the release of the Purity of Heaven being poured out. The pure light of Heaven, that seemed to be in liquid form, flooding the land with the Holiness & Purity that brings healing and conviction of sin.

Dead Men Walking…

Handfull of Dirt

We are all dead men walking. We are the new creation, dead to this world and alive to Christ. This understanding is crucial for the war we are in. The following clip illustrates exactly what I mean. 

Lt. Spiers scene from Band of Brothers

Lt. Spiers has a different reason for saying what he told Private Blythe…hopelessness. For the believer though, that is exactly how we are supposed to live. Like we are already dead. Because hopelessness only applies to those who live in this world. If you have been redeemed? Then you are not of this world, but Christ’s, and hopelessness has no hold on you. Rather, give up hope that this world can give you any kind of fulfillment. 
I recommend the sermon Kris Vallotton preached a few years ago on his book Spirit Wars. He does a fantastic job of describing how dead we are to this world. So if we are dead to this world and alive to the promises Jesus gave us? How should we live? How should we fight the war against evil? Fear should have no place in our lives as fear has no effect upon us, other than what you give it. If you believe the lies, then you allow fear to have a place in your heart.   
 
When you were baptized. You became a completely new species of human. Your body may fail you, and we are subject to all the same crud – day in and day out – as anyone else. However, we ARE dead to this world as our lives are seated in heaven. And, yes, it’s a matter of perspective. (in some ways we are the original “Dead Men Walking”) But, that perspective is what keeps me “Daring Great Things”.
I dare, with the understanding that my reward is just on the other side of eternity. I mean, what can they do? Kill me?
I love my kids and absolutely adore my new grandchild Autumn. But, my tribe is waiting. All the Hastings that came before that are before the throne are watching me. Cheering me and the other Hastings still here in this world to attempt great things!
I have always wondered how the disciples went from fearful men cowering in their homes from the Romans to world changers. But, now I understand. Their perspective was from Heaven to Earth. They were convinced that that perspective was the true reality of their lives and that they were already there in Heaven. They were Dead Men Walking! Nothing to LOSE, and everything to GAIN!

 

 

 

 

…faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.

Wedding Day

 

 

Sunday, February 11th, 3:51 AM

 

After one of my normal night-time interruptions, I began to pray for the kind of love that loves the unlovable. I asked Jesus what was in me that was in the way of that kind of love. Because I knew that if I loved like He loved, Nancy would be healed.

Then, as I tried to go back to sleep, I asked for the kind of Love that takes your breath away. The kind of Love that sneaks up and enfolds you in a tangible blanket of intimate ecstatic joyful expectation.

I realized this kind of Love creates an expectation – Faith – that is tangible, malleable, and fungible (this word popped into my mind; I had to look it up. In essence it is a word for an exchangeable commodity or currency). Faith is the fungible currency that pays the toll for the impossible dreams. It is so tangible that it can cause/bring spiritual reality to manifest “here on Earth as it is in Heaven”, and take on physical/earthly properties. So much so that I understood that Peter wasn’t walking on water. He was walking on the substance of Faith. His Faith created substance he could walk on. 

But, I realized that this Faith only comes as a consequence of the kind of Love that transforms and transcends our earthly understanding of love. In the past I have talked about what George Otis, Jr. describes as “Transformational Prayer”. I would describe this as Transformational Love. Just as we have become a new creation when we are born again. There is a higher Love that only exists in Heaven. But, that we can access here on Earth.

This transformational Love creates its own tangible reality. A reality both physical and heavenly at the same time. It’s why the Disciples could put their fingers into the holes in Jesus’s wrists. A tangible reality only more so. More real, possessing more facets, more capacity, more strands of physical DNA (so to speak), unseen since Eden. A reality so completely different than anything seen on Earth that no language created by man has the capability of describing it. Which is why the people in the Hebrides when asked to describe what they saw – what happened to them during their visitation – just look at each other and cry. Because there are no human words available to describe that reality.

Again, this kind of Faith comes only as a consequence of Love. It is not something you can work up in your mind. I don’t think there are any rituals that can “Summon” it. It’s a process of “putting off the things that hinder”. I believe it IS something you recognize. Something you discover when you realize the…

“Ephesians 3:17 …so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and grounded in love, 18 may have power, together with all the saints, to comprehend the length and width and height and depth of His love, 19 and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God” 

I pray today that you all would discover this Love that passes all understanding! (I finally get that one! LOL)

 

Changing of the Guard…or saving the Prayer Orphans.

mosa-moseneke-426380

 

This will be a quick post. But, hopefully it will motivate us all to be more diligent with our prayer lives.

This weekend the Holy Spirit sparked a new story in the wee hours of the morning on Saturday. It was a struggle for me to get up and write down the ideas He was giving me, but I managed to get it done. I do keep a journal next to my bed for just that purpose.

So later that morning I sat at the keyboard and began to type. The story is intended to be a short one. But, the content could be expanded into a novel. But, as I was typing the story led me to a point where a guardian angel is describing his “assigned family” to the main character (which at this point is myself). The angel is sad because there is not much he can do for the family – a typical loving American family – as there is no one praying for them.

It seems that the older generation of grandparents and parents that had been praying and blessing the young family had passed away. And, now there was no one praying for the family. This was greatly hindering the angel’s ability to protect and to minister to them. About the only thing he could do was observe.

As the writer, I am also an intercessor. I believe one of my giftings has been as a prayer person. But, as a writer I came to a screeching halt with my story. The idea of a family not having anyone to pray for them hurt.

So over the last few days it has occurred to me that every day that passes we are losing more and more of the old-time prayer warriors that have populated our prayer meetings. At the last monthly prayer time for our city, ninety percent of the people there were over fifty years old. There was a preponderance of grey hair. In fact I believe there were only two or three people under forty years old. We are losing the diligent and faithful Grandfathers and Grandmothers of prayer.

There needs to be a changing of the guard. Which – of course – requires there to be an understanding of the impact prayer has had on our families as we grew them. But, also an understanding that many families will never know Jesus, because there is no one to pray for them. Pray for those that have never heard the gospel. They are right there in your neighborhood. Ask the Holy Spirit which of your neighbors are prayer orphans.

I am probably off in my theology about the angels grieving because no one is praying. But, I don’t think so.

Where are all the young prayer warriors?

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Innkeeper’s Dilema

Truth & Passion

I published this short story a few years ago. But, thought I would republish it again, as I have thought more and more about the different versions of the story of Jesus’s birth. Our Christmas Cultural icons are beloved by us all as we teach our children the familiar stories of “No room in the Inn”, “The Manger”, and “the Shepherds”. But, just like the fact that Jesus was probably born during the spring – not at the Winter Solstice – much of these Christmas stories are most likely not correct for the time Jesus was born. 

Heresy you cry?

But, is it heresy to see the birth of Jesus in the light of what most likely occurred? Here is a link to a well written article from Biblearchaeology.org, written by Kenneth Bailey, Phd., that discusses what most likely happened. Plus, a few other articles that speak to the same…

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The Evidence of His Presence

This morning I had a dream that was – in my opinion – from God. It had to do with prayers we raised up last night in a prayer group that I am a part of. Sometimes you just know when He is inserting something into your dream life. And, just like any other moment in time, when He steps into your day, there is a certain amount of thrill that comes along with that. It has a tendency to increase my level of faith.

But, this morning after I woke up and pondered the meaning of the dream, I turned on the light, and started my breakfast, fed the dogs, and…the same old same old started again.

Before too long I had forgotten about the dream and its potential meaning for my life and a low level of anxiety began to creep into my heart. Anxiety about what the day would bring. Would I find success? Would I find a mess?

Let me step back for a moment here and clarify something. One of my more persistent prayers has been that The Holy Spirit would allow me to see the “Evidence of His Presence”. Similar to praying for Miracles, Signs, and Wonders. I guess you could say I am addicted to seeing Jesus move in my life. The little blessings. The naturally occurring supernatural/divine moments that sneak up on you and catch your breath away. I have found that The Father loves to surprise His Beloved. And, I so look forward to those special moments. I considered the dream this morning to be one of those surprises.

There have been a number of those special moments lately. (ask me to tell you the story of Champ the dog), and they seem to be increasing in frequency.

You have probably figured out the point of my blog by now…

He has been answering my prayer to see the “Evidence of His Presence” in my life. So if He is present, why was I allowing the anxiety to set up shop in my heart? I just sat there – I was putting my shoes on when I came to this conclusion – and chuckled to myself and began to worship him with thanksgiving for all these special moments that showed He is there throughout my day.

And, at that moment The Holy Spirit brought to mind the idea of the Hebrews in the desert. They had seen The Lord do “Over the Top” Signs, Wonders, and Miracles in bringing them out of Egypt. And, yet, they still were a bunch of ungrateful, forgetful, unsatisfied, pains in the tookus; that eventually ended up dead in the desert. And, I realized that I had been going in the same direction myself by allowing these special moments to become “Mundane – same old same old” events.

I am sure that many of you have those special moments that you hang on to. Some of you even journal them and go back and read them to remind yourself of His amazing goodness. I exhort you – and myself – to celebrate those moments on a daily basis. Cherish them, tell them to your children and friends. And, keep your eyes – spiritual senses – open for your visitations.

He is a Good Father. He is there. He loves to surprise us and give us good gifts.

Why?

Hands lifted to God

 

I have a friend that encourages me to write. Probably believes in my writing more than I do. Her name is Catherine Vietti. She has been a wonderful friend and a blessing since I began to write seriously. Here is a poem that she wrote and gave to me. I thought I would share it with you all. It is titled “Why?”

 

“Why are we here upon the earth?

Where can we, from this darkness, go? Why, from the moment of our birth, must we, so painfully grow?

Why, when we reach our brightest years, If joy comes, it soon flies by? Tho, the tears and terrors, torment without end – Leaving just the endless question – “Why?”

Listen…It’s really not a dream…Deep from the past…voices at last…Holding you fast, as you waken in wonder, they tell you – “Things are not as they seem…you will be shown, you’re not alone…(you should have known!)”

And, when, you think your life’s all wrong, then, somehow, something you always doubted before…will open a door.

And, your eyes will open, and you’ll finally see,

Loving one another is the key…

Jesus has already set you free!

Catherine Vietti

Chapter One “The Days of Peleg”

Timelapse of surf and rocks

 

The Days of Peleg

(Story of how God separated the continents – Plate Tectonics – and divided the lands between the new tribes that resulted from the creation of different languages)

“Two sons were born to Eber:

One was named Peleg, because in his time the earth was divided…” Genesis 10:25

 

Noah, his wife Emzara and what was left of the followers of Creator God continued slogging through the marsh bordering the river. Not far behind them the chariots of Nimrod and his army. Noah felt it somewhat of an indication of Nimrod’s fear of his grandfather that caused him to use such overwhelming force to destroy him. Nimrod’s army had already killed most of Noah’s followers. Those who listened and believed the stories of how Creator had saved mankind in the ark.

Emzara told Noah every chance she could get that Noah’s trip to see the tower Nimrod was building – had led to the confrontation between Grandfather and Grandson and their current dilemma. Noah knew she was right. It was just the constant reminding that tended to get under his skin.

Thankfully, two angels appeared at Noah’s door with a warning to flee. This had saved them. Or, perhaps had just bought them a little more time here on earth. Because, now the remnants of his band of followers were trapped against a river with no way to cross. The trees and bushes of the marsh hid Noah from Nimrod’s men. But, it also kept Noah from seeing how close Nimrod was. He knew it was only a matter of time before Nimrod’s men followed them into the marsh and killed them one by one. Noah remembered the hatred his grandson had for him. Earlier that spring, there in Nimrod’s throne room in the middle of a building those people called a palace. In that ugly, filthy place they were calling a great city. He had gone there to confront the wayward grandson about his reckless and wanton killing of animals for nothing but the joy of killing. He saw it as a symptom of a disease deep in Nimrod’s soul. Noah mistakenly assumed that he could rationalize with the youngster. Instead Nimrod had exploded in a frightening unhuman rage that reminded Noah of the days before the flood. He recognized the presence of the evil spirits Father God had told him about during the long days of constructing the boat. Oh, for those days to return. If only The Creator were with him now, in this stinking muck filled place. He would protect them.

Emzara wouldn’t let him forget how God had abandoned them. How God’s favor no longer rested upon Noah. That Noah’s God must be on the other side of the world. And, the tedious chore of working through the waist deep water, and fighting through brush, vines, and roots, invited Noah to give grudging acknowledgement to the dicey situation But, Noah knew The Creator was watching. He knew that Creator had something planned.

Life – up until now – had been peaceful. God’s blessings were evident in every aspect of life. Noah’s son’s and daughter in law’s had grown huge families. Indeed they occupied small nations now. Everything Noah grew came up from the ground with abundance. Noah knew he was favored by The Creator. The picture of the blessing of his latest grandson’s dedication to the Creator sprang up into his mind. Just a month before – after the visit to the palace of evil – Noah and Emzara presided over young Peleg’s birth and dedication. Oh how they had celebrated. He knew they were celebrating more than just Peleg’s birth. They celebrated the goodness an favor of Creator to bless their land. The goodness of Creator to walk with them and show them how to best talk the crops out of the dirt. Those were the good and peaceful times when The God of All Things walked with men. Somehow Noah could tell that men were again trying His patience. He sensed He might not be patient much longer.

Life began changing when the stories started reaching Noah from the plains below his home in the high mountain meadows. The animals streaming into the meadow for refuge alarmed Noah. They told Noah of the slaughters. Men driving whole herds of antelope over cliffs to their destruction. Only taking trophies and the choicest parts of the animal, then leaving the rest to rot. Where Noah would give thanks for the sacrifices the animals would make for Noah’s family, this man – this monster – would pretend he was a conqueror. He behaved badly.

Now Noah, Emzara, and those of his grandchildren that understood the Love of the Creator. Those that believed the stories of the Creation and the Flood. The few that remained now desperately found themselves waist deep in a marsh. Emzara’s look of panic communicated exactly how Noah felt, but couldn’t express. His children – that is how he saw his followers – needed a leader, needed someone strong at this moment. Panic and fear would only lead to a quicker death. But, he knew something was coming. God had never failed him in the past and wouldn’t do so now. But, how?

Nimrod’s soldiers were in the marsh now and it was only a matter of time.

Noah felt a tug on his leg. Was it a snake? That moment of apprehension rose up. But, then Noah looked down and there floated a young otter floating on it’s back.

“Grandfather Noah, follow me. I will show you how to avoid the noisy ones.” With that the otter began to paddle backwards through the water beckoning Noah to follow. “Come, quickly, there is a way across the river! You don’t have time to hesitate. Follow me!”

Noah looked at Emzara, and then down the line of the children and motioned for everyone to follow. Still the going was slow and the crashing noise of the soldiers, and Nimrod’s raging voice pressed in on the desperation rising up in the hearts of the children. It would only be a matter of minutes before they were upon them. Could they make it to the river in time?

Desperation can be a good thing. Especially, in life and death decisions. Desperation brings decisiveness to decision making, that decision that determines where you place your hope. Where does your hope lie in times like this. As life is weighed in the balance, tipping either towards life or death, desperation brings certainty to the process. Do you choose life or do you choose hopelessness and death? In this case Noah silently cried out with a fervent desperation for the Creator’s presence to once again intervene in life. Noah desperately chose life.

There flowed the river.

The otter turned and kicked powerfully into the fast flowing current motioning for Noah to follow. There running effortlessly in the middle of the river came a number of the largest bears Noah had seen since the Flood. Their fur a light brown almost cinnamon color glistened in the water. Their size and surprising speed combined with the freezing cold water of the fast flowing river, caused Noah to catch his breath. Creator had heard Noah’s prayer and sent help. An army of the most magnificent bears of every species pushed past Noah. The largest of the Cinnamon Bears looked down at Noah with a grim look of determination and said, “He has heard you Grandfather Noah! Our black brothers will carry you to the other side of the river. We will take care of the arrogant ones!” Then the bear crashed into the brush of the marsh with his brothers. An irresistible force of nature, an avalanche of bear crashing down on Nimrod and his soldiers. They were followed by smaller, but still impressive black bears.  They were moving towards Noah and the children. The current flowing around their powerful bodies, did not scare the bears. This was normal for them. Fishing for salmon in the river was a daily exercise and now they could repay the savior of their species.

The first of the black bears pushed through the current to Noah and said, “Get on my back quickly!” And, no sooner had Noah clambered aboard than the bear began swimming for the opposite shore.

The water chilled the bones and washed over the top of the bear’s back and over Noah’s head making it difficult to breathe as the bear’s powerful swimming propelled them forward. Noah looked around him to see a line of bears with the children and Emzara making their way across the river. Noah found himself chuckling at the look on his wife’s face. Her eyes were tightly shut as if to shut out the outrageousness of the situation.  “She may be a pain at times, but she has the courage of 10 men! Thank you Lord for the gift of my wife and companion! Lord bless her. She has followed me into every adventure you lead me into!” Noah felt like singing! The adventure of life with Creator had returned! He didn’t know where Creator was taking them. But, he knew the days of sitting watching the plants grow were gone for now. Now there would be an adventure. For surely Nimrod would find a way across the river and would not stop until they were trophies on the wall of his palace. So Noah knew this was only the beginning.

That was when Noah noticed that there were other animals in the river. Hundreds of antelope, deer, raccoons, mice, snakes, rabbits, skunks, in fact every animal that walked and had been with him on the ark – or at least their descendants – were swimming to the other side along with them! What was going on? Were they fleeing the evil of Nimrod, just as he was?

Another glance backwards, there were so many animals in the river it looked like a great Salmon Run, thousands of dark bodies churning the water into a frothy maelstrom. There on the other side Noah saw Nimrod and his men, now out of the swamp, were attempting to run from the army of bears. The only ones making good an escape were on horses or chariots. The speed with which the bears were capable of brought a thrill into his heart.

But, as Noah watched Nimrod and his men escaping he realized that the far bank seemed to be receding faster than possible. They should have made it to the other side by now.

Turning and looking forward there was the shore. The bear was walking now. Rising out of the freezing water with great lumbering strides. He was panting heavily from the exertion of crossing the strong current with someone on his back. But, when Noah looked at the bear, he saw a look of great satisfaction. This was an accomplishment a great victory for the animals! They had repaid a debt! They had saved the one human that they could trust and loved with a legendary love.

Noah stepped up to the bear and placed his hands on the great giant soaking wet head. “Thank you my friend. May Creator bless you and your kind forever. May you remain strong and free where ever you go! I and my kind hopefully will never forget the kindness you have shown us today.”

But, the bear was not looking – not paying attention – to Noah. His attention had settled on the river. It was growing wider. As the last of the animals pulled themselves up on the shore, exhausted from the river crossing, Emzara and the children stood next to their saviors watching as the river began to widen. As it widened the water began to become shallower and shallower. Where it once was deeper than could be safely crossed. It now looked to be only knee deep! What was happening here?

The ground began to shake. It became difficult to stand. Noah grabbed Emzara and the tree they were standing next to to keep from falling. The ground moved in ways that tricked their feet that normally supported them. The very earth they depended upon to be there, the foundation of everything solid, was proving to be anything but. Noah looked out into the river. The larger bears that had fought Nimrod and his men were trying to return, but were floundering in the shallow water, trying to stand and slipping on the slick river stones.

Then they heard it. Coming from downstream a roaring, rumbling noice caught Noah’s attention. Looking downstream Noah saw a wall of water coming up the river!

Turning to Emzara and the children Noah shouted, “Run!”

And they did! Sprinting as best they could with the the ground shifting under their feet, they stumbled and staggered from tree to tree to the higher ground ahead.

The roaring grew louder and louder as the wall of water moved up the river bed. Noah looked over his shoulder as he urged his seven hundred and thirty-year-old legs to move faster. Emzara and the children were outdistancing him! And, the water was there, off to the right moving through the trees and the grass. It was moving faster that his legs could carry him.

But, make it they did. Noah got wet, but made it to where the water could not reach. Then he tasted the water. It was not fresh water! It was salty water! This water came from the ocean that surrounded the land. The water left over from the flood. He had heard that it surrounded the land men lived on. Something unthinkable before the rains came. Of course no one had ever seen rain before the floods either. So now this was another part of the creation that The Lord had not shared with him. No matter, now they were safe.

Noah looked to see what had happened to Nimrod, but realized that the other side of the river was now barely discernable, merely a dark line well over a mile away. The two shores of the river were moving apart rapidly. The land was separating! Dividing! The Creator had saved them again by seperating the lands!

Noah, Emzara, the children and a long caravan of animalsof every kind continued moving farther from the water. The land kept moving, though mostly during the day. Night came and the ground seemed to sleep with them, allowing them to get their rest. Then when the sun came, the movement began again in a great caravan of life.

There were forty five of them. There had been thousands in Noah’s camps. But, now these were the only lives left. The evil had returned and now Noah’s thoughts turned to what Creator would do. He had promised that He would never destroy the earth with water again. Ironicly…Noah realized…God had not used water to destroy this time. The water had only filled in a hole Creator had dug. He is a powerful God. Moving mountains and re-routing rivers. He can change a world as fast as Noah could put on his sandals. He is worthy to be worshiped. That is what puzzled Noah. Why couldn’t Nimrod see that? The answer, Noah knew, was obvious. The evil one had lied to Nimrod, just as he had done with the first Grandfather and Grandmother Adam and Eve. Nimrod may have a powerful body, but a weak mind. He remembered the bullies from before the flood. Satan’s minions inciting the weak and fearful minded to violence and unspeakable evil acts. Now he had done it again. And, again Creator saved Himself a remnant!

Noah prayed as they walked across a small meadow under the shadow of what had been a small hill the evening before, but now was rapidly becoming a large mountain as they walked across the meadow. They had grown somewhat used to the rhythmic movement of the land beneath their feet. Still there had been a number of twisted ankles and bruises from awkward falls. There were no complaints from the children though. They understood the unique nature of their journey and the changes in the land. They understood that Creator was forming a new land and that they were not to fear.

Realization rose up in Noah’s mind. The Creator had saved them from evil as He had done before the flood. Some of the children had asked why Creator didn’t just kill Nimrod and the army that pursued them? Noah told them that Creator still loved Nimrod even though he practiced evil things. Creator knew hope still existed for Nimrod. It had to be that way, or hope would only be a fickle thing. Creator loved completely and unconditionally. His Love never falters or changes and is always there for those whose hearts realize the need for – the existence of – a loving, saving Creator. He told them that Creator never changed. The hearts of men are what prove themselves fickle and transient. The Love of the Father is always there waiting for the Human Soul to come home.

Moonfire

Rewrite & Edit done with new changes.

Truth & Passion

spiral-moonfire-lm-fractal-wallpaper-art

Turnips the dog snapped at the flies buzzing around his head, circled three times and settled into the straw bed near the shoeing stool. Evening brought the onslaught of skeeters swarming around the water trough and under the weeping willow trees. Light from outside the blacksmith shop was dimming enough that the glow from the brazier seemed brighter by contrast. Turnips sighed a lazy huff and lowered his shaggy head onto his paws.

Around the side of the low ramshackle smithy, two lethargic Clydesdales ambled by, pulling firewood from the foothills into town. October was almost over bringing the first frosty mornings, but the afternoons still suffocated in a summer that refused to go away. The dust from the yard desperately needed a good rainstorm to settle it down.

Turnips lay in filthy contentment in the cooler air closer to the floor. His day had been epic, as far as…

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