Save me from my enemies, O G!D, our Lord!
My enemies scorn and despise me on all sides. My friends are afraid of me, and turn away from me when they see me on the streets. I am in distress! O, but I put my trust in You, O, our Lord, G!D! Rescue me from the traps that my enemies set for me. Silence the lips of those who boldly slander G!D and those whom G!D has sent- those who defile G!D with arrogant words that they let out from their mouths, oh, those who have lofty speech, make them silent! Do not relent- you must not relent your anger! Destroy them! Omaster
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@ -68,6 +68,100 @@ In remembrance of Me (Christ Jesus, Isa, son of Miriam).
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lay down even on the very
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aged]'.
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</p>
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<p>The Almighty has drawn evening across the
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earth, and the man ponders on himself and
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his G!d. He is a strange creation, he thinks,
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growing as he appears, and also aware of his on[-]going
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dis[-]appearance. For which part of his body is new,
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or his bones, or his flesh, that will prompt a new
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'Thing' in the world? [paragraph break] And yes,
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the uncertainty of his existence threatens him,
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and waits in hiding to be acknowledged, on the heels
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of Recognition.
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</p>
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<p>G[!]d brought people to me to[-]day, Diary, and some
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of the experience was pleasant, and some not so much.
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Three of my former high-school class[-]mates arrived at the
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ward, and G!d reminded me later of my vulnerability
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amidst serving the Christ, when [H]e brought my [']father[']
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to the ward (he is not a seeker of the Christ, nor is he seeking
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Christ, as far as I can tell.)
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</p>
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<p>Do you speak Mandarin Chinese, or can you read it, at least?
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</p>
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<p><i>from the writer: Translating... :-) For the love of G!D,
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and to the Most Merciful and Compassionate One be praise and
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the glory.
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</i>
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</p>
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<p>Although I do not count myself as having achieved perfection,
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as if I were a mountain or statue that has been molded and
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made perfect - oh, I do not count myself as such - and do not
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have all the powers that G!D has to work great deeds that shelter
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and transport Man, and nourish you and me, and do not know
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all the rigid instructions, of the world, that lays a yoke
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on-to one such that one turns to the direction where the sun
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sets, or plucks hair out from the nostrils of one - oh,
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I feel a load that is yoked upon me, instead, in
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the plentiful harvest of the fields that G!D has given me to
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tend, as if I ought to forge a bow or axe for myself out-side of
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the houses of happy people who put the proverbial cart before the horse,
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among these blurring definitions (of myself)
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that G!D has caused in a baptism of fire to a disobedient
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one such as myself, who seems doomed to be as clouds
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of dust and ash - what with the sword, that He has plunged into
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my soul, that is tormenting me greatly - I speak, in an effort
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to make my humanity heard, the following: if G!D has given me
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this worldly life as a comfort - a form of mercy
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from the Most Merciful and Compassionate One, or a brief respite -
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then what they have done to me falls short of what lets
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the light of the Most Merciful One - who created us, and is working
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great and mighty wonders in His immeasurable splendour and
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ways that are above my own - shine;
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they do not glorify their Maker, who is maker of all. I see
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room for the Lamb to do the will of the one who sent the Lamb. I see
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room for work that reconciles the below to the above. I see
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a gap to be filled. And how great the cry must be
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to He-who-provides, from where they are! Oh, to imagine
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the saltiness that remains on their hearts after their tears
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have dried! To borrow an expression
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from the one and only Teacher,
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if this happens in the green, what more in the dry!
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</p>
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<p><i>Mysterious marks that look like armies or soldiers
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</i>
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</p>
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<p>Where G!D has sent me to is where wild people
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have the comfort of their shelters and women, and yet
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bake bread that leaves people half-hungry after they eat it.
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Not a joyous effort at all, are all these plucking of nostril-hairs,
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and turning to the direction where the sun sets. To the extent
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that they have turned the commandments of G!D to suit the desires
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of their hearts, they are all alike, regardless of their
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positions in society, gender identity, sexual identity, and
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the number of years that they have lived (or the number
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of wrinkles
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on their fore-head). And these are people who are made
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in the likeness of their Maker! How outrageous! I am
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greatly anxious and distressed for these people whom
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G!D offers His covenant to. My lowly heart is beset with
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with unexpressed emotions, as if my heart were in a sealed
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jar that is becoming a little too cramped, or as if the heat
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of summer had been poured into a drink that leaves me burning
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upon consumption. Oh, to whom shall I turn the ancient
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trees and mountains of my soul towards: G!D who clothes me,
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or those whom G!D has destroyed since long ago in plagues
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and floods and earthquakes that only those who are like Noah
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can be spared from? Who am I to model myself after? Or who
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am I to speak up for? Or rest my weary soul against? O! How
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I have spent nights sitting, by my lonesome, under the shifts
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and changes of the moon, wishing to be with You, enjoying
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the lush abundance of what G!D provides in his covenant with
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an oppressed, persecuted and doomed one such as myself!
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O, Jehovah!
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</p>
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<p>oh, in the heat of the day, I have felt humiliation.
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</p>
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</div>
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<div id="quattro">
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<p>Dear Diary,
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