And, Say they Do!
The
holy seed had blossomed in the Light Bearer’s mind, yielding the fruits
of creation. The intentions the father had envisioned were fulfilled
perfectly under the mastery of the cherub’s hands; for they held no
purpose of their own. His hands functioned as though they were the father’s gloves. His whole being was defined by the father’s presence; and he rode the circuits of creation as though he were its master; for in the realest sense, he was.
He was perfect in all his ways until the numbing presence of iniquity was found in him, but the father’s breath is the life in him; and all things that the father does are shared in him. Therefore, on the day the man Adam had received the Breath of Life and had awakened as a living soul, the Light Bearer had ridden within that breath; and when Adam awakened, he was taken by surprise at the Light Bearer’s presence within him.
The man mda was thrilled and excited about the presence he detected within himself, and he began to fantasize about what could now be done. His welcome of the implicit responsibilities in this new relationship with the godhead was not wholehearted, however. The inertia of memory tugged at his enthusiasm.
He could not forget life before receiving the holy breath; and his reticence about entering upon a renewed life added to the influx of inertia, now invading his consciousness at every point of focus. The inertia became a lingering force within him; and it created a gap—a breach—in which there had arisen the specter of iniquity: a longing, an expectation, an anticipation. He was beginning to dread something he could sense but could not see.
The father had agreed that it wasn’t good for the man to be alone, and he had withdrawn a substance from his side. In receiving the father’s breath, he had awakened from light sleep with an urgency to discover what he was becoming. Awakening from the sleep of separation, he was met with an urgency to accept. He had nearly choked at the pooling of the strange waters inertia; was not a difficult matter to embrace Eve as his wife.
With sympathy for the birth pains of the man, Yahushua had wavered between his concern for Adam and his satisfaction in the joy Eve had brought Adam, countering the heaviness that had been in the man’s heart.
In thinking of these moments before they had happened, a fluctuation had created a spiritual eddy in his own heart; and, for the briefest of moments, the Light Bearer’s focus might have caused his loyalties to waver somewhat. No. As he remembered it, now, he had laughed as he regained balance in the interplay between the eternal and the temporal. The zeal of the father’s house was eating him up.
There was room for idleness. More, it could prove to be a useful element in the communication of serious matters. If relationships are strained, productive growth is difficult. Perfection through knowledge is more difficult than perfection through camaraderie.
That some should laugh at crucial moments would not derail the process. There would be danger in intemperate thoughts, but unremitting sobriety comes with its own kind of peril. The maxim would be, “Quench not the spirit.” The zeal of the father’s house was eating him up!
Rethinking these things again, now, in the cool of the evening—at the time of day he was accustomed to walking with the man and his wife—he considered the turns the teachings should take on the straight and narrow path of Truth. Their walks in the Garden had been long and friendly, and he had touched upon these things many times. They had no need of sound as they talked together. They could feel each other’s thoughts in that special place where hearts and minds are one.
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