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Michael Jackson Justice: Because Ye Know the Truth

God: Reconnect to Him

The Conspiracy against God is about "The Word", and the profaning of His Holy Name within us. Adam fell in the garden, breaking the direct connection to God. Jesus, the "last Adam" was a quickening Spirit, the Word made Flesh, and the only one with whom we can re-establish our relationship with God. Michael's story is still unfolding. He is the one who is, is not. But Jesus is the only name given under heaven by which we must be saved. Many are trying to rewrite HIStory. We were given a help to instruct us. Learn more "here".

Tuesday, June 13, 2017

Because Ye Know the Truth


The Last Game
No Lie is of the Truth





Love not the world, neither the things that are in the world.  If any man love the world, the love of the Father is not in him

For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life, is not of the Father, but is of the world.   And the world passeth away, and the lust thereof: but he that doeth the will of God abideth forever.  

Little children, it is the last time: and as ye have heard that antichrist shall come, even now are there many antichrists; whereby we know that it is the last time.   They went out from us, but they were not of us; for if they had been of us, they would no doubt have continued with us:  but they went out, that they might be made manifest that they were not all of us.

But ye have an unction from the Holy One, and ye know all things.   I have not written unto you because ye know not the truth, but because ye know it, and that no lie is of the truth.”

From across the table, one facing the other, their eyes stood firm to one another in invisible challenge:  the Baron and the girl.

It was the same table, holding the same offering, and the same pawns in the same game:  He had all the answers to questions she had already asked.

He asked her to “choose” but the table had already been turned.  It was the last game.

They had both played before for different stakes, in a different time, wearing different clothing and bearing different names.

She looked at the board, familiar with the pieces.  The conclusion would be different, and she wasn’t afraid.  She knew what was in the house.

“Should we flip for the first move?” said the Baron to her.

She glanced at the board, then again met his eyes.  What she was waiting for wasn’t there, but it would be.  How she did in the game would be key.  “It doesn’t matter” she replied, “the first move is your choice”.

With a hard glint of amusement he asked, “Do you remember the rules?”

“It’s been a long time” she said, “but I remember each one”; and she recited them as she pointed them out.

He bore down on her with a level stare, “I know your fears” he said to her.

She regarded him a long moment but said nothing.  What she feared he had no power to control.  She thought to reply but said nothing.  She met his gaze with an open expression.

His eyes remained on her.  Intimidation mingled with loathing had no effect on her.  Despite the contempt he felt, he couldn’t completely hate her and he didn’t know why.  The standoff continued.

“You know this is the last game?”  He asked her.

“Mmm-hmm” she replied, “I’ve been waiting”.

He smiled.  It was not a pleasant gesture.  “This time it is different.  You lose the game, you lose your life.”

She looked up into his face.  This time she smiled and it was genuine.  “It’s the same lie, isn’t it?  Please” she said, with a sweep of her arm.

After a long pause, he lowered his eyes from her face to the board.  He reached and moved the first pawn.

She saw the move, glanced the board over for a moment, and then moved one of hers.

After each move, his eyes met her face.  For once he couldn’t read her.  Her face revealed nothing: no fear, no ego, not even what he would consider confidence.  So open was her expression, he could read nothing.

The game continued.  Each took pieces of the other.  The clearing of the board was slow but steady on each side.

She was good; he was better.  He had been playing for a long time and she was just warming up.

During a brief pause, the prince wondered the point of the game.  She was going to lose.  He already knew this.  Why was she even playing?  Where was her fear?

“Your life, miss congeniality; miss ‘fight for the truth’, Did you think I was joking?”

She looked up at him.  She already knew how it was going to turn out.  “You know the house doesn’t always win.”

He smiled, “I expected more from you” he said, “I can’t imagine you would throw the game now”.

She took a breath of impatience and held it.  What she wanted to say was kept from her lips.  She was told.  The vision was sure.  She knew what to do.

He leaned across the table, resting on both arms to lean into her face, “play the game like your life depends on it, miss!”

He didn’t know that she would. 

She moved.  He moved.  This was a charade he started.  He knew she knew it. She continued the play, without anger, without battle.

She looked at the board.  There were only two possible moves left.  She looked up at him and said,

“Don’t you remember?  You made the first move.  The result is going to be the same regardless.”  His face for once, was blank.  She continued,

“Remember . . . please, it’s your turn”.

He pulled back and looked at the board.  He wanted to savor the moment.  He searched her face.  The only emotion he could find in it was peace and it enraged him.

He moved his piece.

She stared at the board for what seemed like eternity.  This was it.  She didn’t expect the struggle but she knew where it came from and her faith shut it down.

She slowly looked up into his face.   He waited.

She moved.

They stood across the table from one another; neither of them conceding to lower their eyes.  His face was afire with vainglory and gloating, but in her peace it had no power.

She said quietly, “And he said, my kingdom is not of this world . . .”

He again leaned over the table, slowly.  He brought his nose within inches of hers.  He titled his head slightly, boring into her with his eyes, “check . . . mate”.

She didn’t move.  There was no fear.  She could see her own image reflecting back at her in his eyes.  She said, “there are no walls in the game of Chess, did you notice that?”

He stood up, crossed his arms over his chest, “It is finished”.

She smiled without malice, for she knew she had been fulfilled, “Don’t you remember?  That’s what you said before they pierced you . . .”

Her voice was fading toward the last words of her sentence.  A split second of dread he felt when he realized the point of the game. 

Her words were the last thing he heard before The Light came through the roof of the house.  Then he remembered . . . 

I have not written unto you because ye know not the truth, but because ye know it, and that no lie is of the truth.  

Who is a liar but he that denieth that Jesus is the Christ?  He is antichrist, that denieth the Father and the Son.  

Let that therefore abide in you, which ye have heard from the beginning shall remain in you, ye also shall continue in the Son, and in the Father.

And this is the promise that he hath promised us, even eternal life.

These things I have written unto you concerning them that seduce you.

But the anointing which ye have received of him abideth in you, and ye need not that any man teach you:  but as the same anointing teacheth you of all things, and is truth,  and is no lie, and even as it hath taught you, ye shall abide in him.






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