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I Believe God Answers Prayers

  I know my Lord is the King of Kings , he created everything around us ..and makes it known to us what we as his children are supposed to do and he is all forgiving ... can you imagine having that big of a heart ... i know in my life i have people i still have grudges against from ten yrs ago ... Praise him !!!
starstruck2xtrme starstruck2xtrme 26-30, F 3 Responses May 22, 2007

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I also believe...

I agree with you, completely....but....you need to get rid of the grudges......unforgiveness, will stand in the way, of your prayers.....it's a poison....and it can make you physically/spiritually ill....



My daughter was healed, because of all the prayers that were sent up to God, on her behalf....healed of cancer....There is power in the Blood.

The Meeting





Waters lap the shores of a distant land



Crimson, and tension pulls across the rolling surface



One might almost walk across the surface



If the gravity here was a little lighter



Bobbing like a cork in crimson waters with a tight molecular structure



It’s difficult to swim or paddle towards firm ground







The dusk turns deep azure as the triple moons sail overhead



Unsynchronized in orbit, one passes the other quickly



But the two orbs that stay awhile allow for infrared vision



Land or something like it heaves into view and disappears



Alternating current rises and falls in regular rhythm



I continue to paddle in digital form towards the distant shoreline







Alone but surrounded by a busy sea



Frothing and flowing but somehow strangely muted



Like sounds after a heavy snowfall on Terra are quieted and stilled



This is not there, and here is an unusual discovery at each moment



Purplish flumes rise at the meeting of sea and shore



Their contorting strangely comforting







Branrish beach approaches me quickly



Its sparkling surface ignorant yet beckoning my arrival



Left I go right to a cartwheel across the “sand” of fine crystals



Finishing on curves and splayed limbs



My thick and tentacled lower limbs gyrate slowly over the surface



Keeping me erect on the shimmering surface







Gliding my torso forward I push my smell and sighting senses forward



Frequencies hum across my mandibles; my long whiskers gathering spectrum



Uniquely rhythmic is this place, but not over there



I sense a void in the natural order of things



Out of place and created by other hands



Not alive like the rest of the atmosphere here







Approaching with childish curiosity I attempt to recognize the non-pattern



A monument of some sort it appears to me



With strange scratching on its dark but shiny surface



Dead and cold and a testament to a civilization long forgot



Oddly emplaced and obviously forgotten



Disappointed, I move onward







Impatient, I gather and spread my foursome wings and take flight



Rising above the surface I gather speed and objectively observe



Using peripheral senses to collect rather than my primaries



I guide myself by the syncopated and asymmetric natural rhythms of this place



Moving slowly forward I survey the undulating landscape



Until I tire and sleep for the morning







Waking to sounds of singing, a distant and haunting echo



Trembling the hills and moving the rocks



I rise above the quaking earth calmly, not expecting trouble



For why should there be in this place forgotten for millennia



A whirling maelstrom approaches from a great distance



Light and frequencies flashing in a synchronized cacophony







I bow at the feet of the Creator



Helpless and weak as He nears my place



Hidden from sight by enormous clouds and multiple rainbows



Sounds of rushing water murmuring by the millions



Each molecule in song and purpose cascading eternally



The Voice that speaks forth both life and death







Darkness is eliminated in the light



A calming peace at the Feet of the many wheeled throne



Many-eyed wings stand guard in praise



All paths lead to the Feet, and all darkness vainly attempts to flee



Countless beings surround the Throne



. . . . . . . (unable to utter or record)







Time is not here, nor is space



My senses are each and all embraced in perfection



Now I know what I am, what I must do, why I am here, where I must go



Once released I point my trembling hearts in the direction of home



Burning with a fire placed there, impatient for release



Surely this moment I have been touched, to never be the same again . . .







by Compelled Three