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A Sinister Plot

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However, the secret agents of another world were watching, following, keeping a diary of his every movement, running ahead to erect detour signs to stop what seemingly was a constant growing success. He wondered why all the pressure, and was even affected by the passive and what he felt may have been evil rivalry of those who were close to him. The things of former days that were graciously left in the hands of the One who was abundantly able to watch over them, was now considered his own successes.

By John D. Mean

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Why can’t righteousness reign unobstructed? Why the animosities and the blatant disregard for those things that are pure and reek of His good pleasure? Like the serpent that waits in the way to thrust it’s venomous fangs into its victim, or the carnivores who spring from their hiding to tear a little lamb from its mother’s milk, so this evil destructive force knows no bounds. The ethics of brotherhood are not a part of its vocabulary, nor is it so much as a third cousin to accepted neighborliness. It plunges on and will not quit. While men sleep, it plans and schemes its strategy. And like as the tares are sown, it never slows its gait unless to rejoice over another weak one who has fallen or another deluded who has pledged allegiance and joined ranks.

How do you stop such a deceptive enemy who walks with you by the way, exclaiming fair sentences and pleasant phrases? And when the contours of your paths shift in different directions, you have no thought of brandishing your sword and girding on the warriors regalia for a fight. No, a thousand times no. Nothing but trust and good will radiate your countenance, but little did you know that the one walking with you was planning your demise! How do you win when ignorance prevails in discerning your enemy? The Big Day has come. With satchel in hand, loaded with pencils, erasers and coloring scribblers, he makes his way down the street under the watchful eye of proud parents.

His feet plod on towards the beginning of life, being led, molded, and driven into what we call preparing for our future. The very young are generally trusting, with minds wide open to receive anything and everything their instructors will tell them. Yes, while they were planning for their future and pleasure, another was plotting a sort of mind control that turned the pendulum of their compass into a direction that made them wonder within themselves, “Is this the way I want to go? Is this happiness? Is there nothing more? Have I become victimized?

Where is life’s Utopia, anyway?” A young man comes to mind at sixteen years of age and embraces the truth. Three years later he enters a renowned University, only to learn in the first year there that he was wrong. And he is now bent on destroying the faith that saved him.

Question: How many, who were immersed into this type of theology, left all with a passion for the lost to the regions beyond?

The Great and Mighty are Attacked, Too

“How are the mighty fallen,” was David’s lament over Jonathan and Saul. From whence cometh the orchestration of sour notes from the agile fingers of the accomplished player on instruments? Is it really true, sanity of mind, that such an one enjoying fame and voluminous applause from so many would be wallowing in his own spittle and dust of a lonely prison cell?

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