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Truth Wisdom Freedom - The Truth will set you free!

Truth Wisdom Freedom - May 2007

Great Wine

May 27th 2007 13:17
What is maturity?

A mature wine is one that has been processed for a long time before it is ready to drink. It’s aged, and it has been treated in certain ways so that it will reach peak flavour. It’s a matter of time and subjection to a process. Time alone will not produce a mature wine. And process takes time.

So maturity comes with time or age, but it is not automatic. Being aged doesn’t necessarily mean maturity. How can you tell if person is mature? Do the taste test!

If the taste is vinegar – harsh (in speech) and sour (with complaints), flavourless (the come back for more signal) and lacking in joy (that comes from within and is not shaken by circumstance) and restfulness ( bringing tranquility to every situation), without a beautiful aromatic, peaceful attraction, then give that person the respect due to age, but do not seek your wisdom there..


If, on the other hand, the aroma is heavy with promise (the hidden substance of things to come), the taste (of companionship) is heavenly (arousing a desire for more), the gentle shaking or swirling (prodding the depths for truth) enhances the sensation (speech), the swallowing (accepting) brings peace and contentment (enrichment and refreshment), if the nuances of the palate such as after-taste, deep throat and sides, timber, fruitiness etc (personality) contain many delights and surprises so that there is always more to discover, and the dregs have not tainted the wine (there are no blots on personality apparent), then know that the wine has been maximized by the processing of truth and potential, and drink deeply.

Of course there are very many vastly differing wines that you could savour, because there are many facets of life to enjoy. There are many processes that have been employed to create those wines, all involving great disciplines of learning, struggling, wrestling, persisting, dreaming, losing and winning, No wine was ever made without the grape press and the aging. The musician must practice, the architect must be a mathematician, the ironmonger must play with his fire. Practice makes perfect in time.


Of all these marvellous wines, the most important one to drink is the powerful, (ever) new red (blood) wine of the Spirit of the Living God, matured in timber (the cross) fortified in Heaven (resurrection and ascension) and poured out liberally at any Pentecost for its aspirant devotees.

But you, what sort of wine will you develop into? What processes will you submit yourself to and for how long? Will the press of life burst your barrel, or will it turn you into a beautifully aged-in-oak blessing? If a man or woman will not submit to any process, what then? If they choose a lesser process, what then? As time passes by you, what is being created? Vinegar? Cheap wine? Great wine? Eternal Life wine?

Someone I knew wanted respect because of his years – he was in his forties. He thought he should have it just because of that. But because of his behaviour (especially with text messaging) he kept getting thrown out of social situations. He couldn’t figure it out at all. Years without discipline won’t do it.

Many young people today, with disciplines and skills, neglect the older generation, thinking that lack of IT, youthfulness and current parlance etc means they have nothing to offer. The ice is thin and the water is cold in that place. They need each other. How many young people today have entered relationships against the parent’s wishes, only to suffer greatly later on. They need each other!

What then is maturity? Maturity is wisdom. Get wisdom. The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. Get wisdom. Get it at all costs! "WISDOM" is the greatest wine lable of all!

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The Essential Dynamic

May 13th 2007 15:58
Little man spits “No” at mother,
Stamps his foot and slaps his brother.
Does she go into a paddy,
Hate his guts and tell his daddy?
Usually not!

She maybe sends him to his room
To think how he can change his doom!
He may come out when he is quiet,
Agrees with her and offers Brut
A handshake.

Why does she not take angst at him,
Refuse to feed him on a whim,
Shout at him, stamp her foot too?
Why, she’s grownup, and has a view
Beyond that.

She sees that he is just a babe
And testing those around today
To see if they can be controlled
With just a taste of violent hold.
He’ll learn.

She separates him from the scene
And sets the boundaries he must deem
Are limits none will tolerate.
And mild but strong she will berate
Her wayward son.

The next day all is new again.
She has forgotten yester’s pain.
He is to her a learner so
She has confidence that he will grow
Up fast.

If one should sin against you, you
Can do as mothers often do.
Explain the crime and separate
The sinner from his control spate
So he can think.

Explain quite clearly what his crime
Has perpetrated just this time,
And how the consequence of that
Will change the place where you are at
For present or for good.

Then make it plain what they must do
To re-instate your trust. And so
Allow them time to ruminate
And contribute to the debate
In positive vein.

If they are willing to perceive
The mistrust, and your need to grieve,
And turn and change the status quo
With “sorry”. (No “I told you so”s)
Then friendship lives.

But if a truce cannot be found,
There is no reconciliation round,
Then let them go with quiet love.
And hopes that yet they’ll make the move
That heals the wound.

Do not take up the bitter rein
That pulls your lip into disdain,
And makes your heart burn damning fire
And twists, contorts your heart’s desire
Into hate.

Hate is like a battleship.
Destroyer is its style, I think.
But guess who gets to be destroyed!
It’s you. Not him. He has you foiled!
You are the loser!

This battleship knows no shutdown.
It’s always ready to go to town
And fight your battles on all fronts –
The battle lines are drawn on friends
Of every sort.

This ship needs oil at every port,
So every friendship will contort
And sour and disintegrate
To feed the fuel of the hate
That felt so fair.

“Enough!” You cry. “I can’t go on!
Is Hell more miserable than this?”
“Forgive” shouts wisdom. “Yes, you can!
In the image of God was made the man –
And God forgives.

But God to man dominion gave
And He will not that work retrieve.
So Man gets only what he gives.
You want forgiveness? Then forgive!
Ball’s in your court!

Ball too heavy? Then try this.
There’s a ball you’re wanting God to catch
And cancel all the things you’ve done.
So make sure you catch this little one.
Well Done!
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Ruff, Ruff, WOOF, WOOF!

May 10th 2007 06:19
Ruff, Ruff, Come play with me,
I’m just a pup. I love a game
There’s nothing like a “Tug of war”,
“Fetch the ball” is much the same.
I can play it in the morning.
I can chase it at twilight,
Any time’s just right for me,
Even every night.

If it’s not at eat or sleep time
I will run with any ball.
No matter what the game is,
Cause I just love them all.
I’ll wag my tail, cock my ears,
And dance up on my toes
If I can your attention gain,
You love me, I suppose.

Woof! Woof!, I have you cornered now,
I’ve grown an ounce or two.
The wolf in me is coming out,
The days of games are through.
For games become a lifestyle –
Only takes a little practice
To style a mental process
So a habit’s given access.

And a habit is so hard to beat.
The mind is taken over
Piece by piece and day by day
By clever little “Rover”
You thought that you had full control
But I’m a little smarter.
And now you want to stop this game,
The ties you cannot sever.

For if perchance you cease a while
I’ll grab you by the trousers,
And pull until you come with me
Away from all the wowsers,
I’ll growl, and tug, and lift my lip
And snarl, and show white teeth,
And should you then resist the game
You’ll feel more than my breath!

I bite! I maul. I tug and drag,
I chew and gnaw and shake.
The jugular’s my favourite clench
And I don’t take a break!
My mates will hear the noise you make
And they’ll come join the fray
Until we’ve got you down and out
On that inglorious day.

We’ll draw your bright red sucker’s blood.
We’ll rip your insides out.
You were a fool to mush with us.
The rules you thought you’d flout.
Oh, crocodiles you understand
And keep well clear of those,
But puppies you misapprehend
And take a little dose.

And here are Poky, Cheat and Cheeky,
Flirt and Fibber, and Klepto.
Their games are fun, as you can see,
Their influence feels minnow -
But then along comes the parent breed
With serious hunger pangs.
Meet Porno, Casino, Predator, Ice,
Mugger, Embezzler, and Fangs.

This is the company that doesn’t muck around.
The puppies are up front to hide them.
Play with the puppies and your goose is cooked
The big dogs are not far behind them!
You can be enticed by a hundred little pets
If you’re foolish enough to play.
Be sure that within every playful wee pup
Grows a wolf who will make you pay your way!



For Interest you might like to name a few more puppies – Me First, ….

Then name the wolves which they might become!
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Christians Awake!

May 1st 2007 10:41
Christians Awake!

The time is far gone and the evil last days of prophecy are not far away


[ Click here to read more ]
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