The Forestalled Attainment

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The forestalled Attainment Dr. Joseph Luxum

Copyright New Wine publishing LLC New York Page 2

The Forestalled Attainment

What makes the heart beat and ceaselessly pump blood throughout the cardiovascular sys-tem bringing warmth to the body?

The heart extracts heat from the food we eat. It takes the elements it wants to process

and bless the body, which it serves. Yes, the heart serves, it is our servant even a slave, butwho is its master that makes it tick?As number two the master is you. As number one it is the One. What you plant in your

delicate soul will serve and will lavish abundance of life on you or make you ill with deathlurking by to end your sufferings. The despots and thieves that you may have let in willplunder your house and leave you destitute unless you drive them out and make room forthe new the old wineskins will burst when the new wine pours in.

The prosecutor said, I will prove beyond the shadow of a doubt that this man killed hisown family in a cold blood. Or. This cold blooded killer What is a cold blood?

Cold blood is a dead persons blood. Yes, its frozen, cold and at standstill. It goes no-where; it brings no warmth anymore and does not make you feel happy. It is strangely still. Itbecame darker, thick and unmovable. The heart stopped its daily operations like a factorywith no workers; like a machine without electricity. You keep on pushing the buttons flip-ping the switches, but it does nothing. No power A cold-blooded killer is a spiritually deadperson deprived of mercy, compassion and love.

Why would anyone use this expression? As a foreigner I wonderWhats a cold blood and why the expression? I guess it has something to do with the op-

posite, which is a warm blood, warm heart and warm soul. Yeah, I think thats it, thats whatit means.

I ask because I do not know this realm yet well. I am a foreigner, a stranger on this planet;I study the earthlings and their self-destructive behaviors. Why the so-called people lovedeath so much? Why do they cling to it in exchange for matter of many forms, and why dothey run after the shiny metal they call gold? They worry about bills and jobs and they do not

look on what they walk. When worse comes to worse the earth still produces and sustainsthe hungry. The forests the pastures and fields; they keep producing and like the heart theypump nutrition, incessantly.

At the crossroads at the dusk, where shadows cast their dark silhouettes over the groundthere was a lantern from the bygone days flickering with flame borrowed from the gas line.The flame wasnt much and the light it gave, unlike the modern lights, it was just a dim flick-ering spark. How quickly we forgot and got used to the now. Yet this lantern still standsthere at the crossroads of time, casting light on some while others have taken the cross andchanged their course. They tread a shadowless road. Others embraced ignorance for theyhad turned their backs to that light and blended with the darkened skylines of the twilight

and then with the darkness of night.This fading into distance and blending with shadows I mind, notwithstanding the measureof grace man has been lavished upon over the countless days of time. Its the choice we havemake and still keep on making. The horse was brought to the water trough from which itshould quench its thirst. But it chose not to and stood there still.

The lantern is still there, but not to our satisfaction, we wander and ponder and hope forsomething better; with our backs turned we stroll away the chosen path from the cross ofroads; east, west, north and south. We are still going somewhere treading chosen paths, awayfrom the lantern at the crossroads of time.


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What makes the heart beat and propel life? What makes it act the way it does? Why itloves doing what it gladly does bracing with warmth endowing with strength, infusing withmuse and telling me, Go, dont stop its your destination! But whats my destination andwhats the goal of being? I made no such objective nor did I make myself. Im here by gracea steward of goods merely loaned to me. Suspended in time or no time at all, its what I un-derstand that makes me thrive, fall back or perish in a slow decay. Yet the choice is mine for

so its been given to me to understand from the eons of time at that same crossroad of by-some-squandered time.

Those merciless echoes of time keep smiting my heart like that of a blacksmiths malletfalling hard on the anvil. My heart is red and growing hotter with each strike of that smash-ing rhythmic hammers throbs. I hear thumps of joyous eruptions I submit its will to itscharge and command.

This odd notion of proprietorship calling the me as the owner, fill me, give me,lead me is futile for the me is Him. Its been given to grasp the lack of existence, the Iand the me but rather an extension of eternity. Does the hummer fall on me? Do I cause itor the blacksmith or the potter forming a vessel out of His own clay? Piece of metal or apiece of clay its all His yet He calls it the free will when I choose and then submit to those

poundings and frequent spins. Can my heart remain as mine? I look up and see the malletfall; like Abrahams knife about to slash his sons tender skin. Here it comes I cringe, butthe mallets honey-sweets so tender too kind for words. Have I crossed the line? Whos theme the muscle-heart, involuntary incessant pump that thrives within this body of mine?But is this body really mine? Who is the mine I speak of here? The mine then ceases andits blood goes cold. Gradually the I has vanished with sunsets, and blended with darkness,away from that lantern with that flickering light. This grace of Yours does wonders oh Lord.Those tangled wires that tied the knot of the I this foolish ego notion lost all power now.The knot is there but the egos gone. You have rewired the brain, which never was mine. This understanding loosened the knot; the ego-bird slipped out of the nest made out ofwires, cables and twigs. Now its soaring on high. The I cant see a thing, but the sublime

sees many groping in shadows slaves to the mortal I. They do not ask why, blind guides ofthe blind. Why have I turned my back to it then and threw myself at the mercy of time?Why did I choose the darkened path and could not return to the cross of time and changemy path before it was too late, the pump has stopped and blood turned cold.

The heart keep going it beats and thumps, its going slow while other times fast. Its pulseis steady, but sometime wary, what makes it act this way?

From time to time there comes the cleanse when blood is soaped and rinsed with force ofa mighty waterfall.

Ramblings of time you might exclaim, a waste of time not worth of my time away fromthe box I carved for myself. Those dark cardboard walls Ive worshiped so long might burnup one day when I am gone. The rhythm I know, familiar surroundings; the people I know;

the trees of the park and the daily news I read on my bench as sparrows keep chirping theirsongs away.

Then

No more sparrows, cafs and news. No more cardboard walls and that one shaft of lightthat came to me through my boxs roof. Its all gone now. Im all alone.


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What gives you warmth and that thrilling feeling is the life force youve taken as a given.For just as it is given it can be withdrawn. The muscle then stops being just a one, its func-tions then cease and the factory goes still. No stocks to trade and no workers to make let go.The juice has been cut. Switches and levers haplessly swing dancing to their silent tune. Butdoes it have to be so? Is that sad dreary road away from the lantern at the crossroads of timemore fun? No imagination, no inspiration, no straightforward thinking no fun with God.

Empty words lead to empty spaces. Empty thoughts

make your head a drum. Empty hands make you useless

and empty hearts make you fruitless.

God is life. God is Spirit and Spirit is life. Spirit is power and power is the force thatdrives the Universe; it makes the planets turn. It is the gravity, magnetic poles and the wall ofprotection or the atmospheres hole. Who controls it all? Rocks float in space, sometimethey fall. They release light. Who made them so? The solid matter becomes gas and gas be-comes fire and then is no more.

Space is a realm where time abides. Time ceases to be when matter stops drifting like

driftwood on water. When sun ceases its work, time is no more, inches; feet, yards and mileslose all meaning then. Eternity wields the weapon over by then too-tired time. Like meteorsand loose debris floating in space, when time meets infinity it breathes its last. Fire and lightrelease the true power stored and reserved for the ultimate time.

When the heart works day and night for the entire span of your life than that heart is likea god to be worshiped and bowed to the ground. But when it falters and pains it is despised,even put down as another organ that can be replaced.

Only living man with a real heart can make a machine mimicking the heart. Like thecommodities traded on Wall Street blood can be made and hearts replaced. Batteries in-cluded they add, which carry composites taken from below the rocky ground and nothingfrom above. Lithium they call it and they are so proud.

Metals are fire. Fire is power. Light is life. But they burn like comets and meteors of allkinds. Put them together and youve got power all right; until they perish like all the rest do.The battery goes out and then the pump calls for power. The metals corrode even titanium.When they touch life they must decay just like time will one moment when it meets eternity.

Who put fire in metals? Who put life into a rock? Why flowers grow from cooling lavarocks? Why earth turns, and even skips beat when Gods ear receives a desperate cry forhelp? Joshua cried and time obeyed his cry. The king of Judah cried and shed bitter tears;God changed His mind, stopped the time, healed the king and added to his lifespan anotherfifteen years. Is calming of storms too hard for us the rulers, subduers and masters of time?Why fear rules our feeble hearts?

We have despised the knowledge of power. Weve split Gods realm into darkness andlight. In our thoughts we see Gods throne as one of the monarchs from down below thatcan be dethroned with man-made bows, spears, swords or bullets.

We rule with fear and not with love. Love became a weakling, worthy of no remark or ofcloser study to bequeath mankind.

Love must be embraced. One must first bathe in its essence

before extracting its primordial eternal force upon which

wings life travelled down to earth.


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Loves the syringe that must be permitted to pierce our thick skin and then enter theheart. Once love is permitted to finally break in; it brings life; portion-by-portion and meas-ure-by-measure until that moment when life takes over; even as that of Enochs of old.

When life came to earth

Life came to earth on the wings of love; it fluttered and hovered over the formless mass.

When it touched down it first sorted things out and out of that blob came forth order, har-mony, design Mud turned into water below then water above. As symbols of timeswamps, marshes and wetlands remain until now - memorials and as those ancient echoes oftime. Darkness and light once mixed and colorless, undefined and sloppy acquired bright-ness, sharpness and clarity. Every pebble, every grain of sand showed off its color and itsown particular shade. The gray remained as a memorial of that which once was in the pri-mordial time while still in timeless realm. Pitch acquired blackness and its viscous substanceand against it light staged its props and exquisite designs, vibrant, sharp most beautiful to thesight, desirable by the soul, which longs for the echoes of that ancient allegedly lost time.

Monuments, memorials, testaments of time draw us closer to that monument whenGods soul was grieved for man chose death over life, grayness over color and darkness over

light. But is it all lost in the endless obsession with sin and the supposed fall as if to arisetakes only a hope in the two crossed laths, bloody nails and that thorny crown?

Melancholy we preach, depression we reap. Sadness and regrets, pathetic excuses theblaming game goes on endlessly without remorse as if theres nothing more, but the ever-present status quo.

As I speak right now the self and its ego, its pride defies and fights, something so beauti-fully sublime, uplifting, immortal and where time plays no role; where sadness flee in theshadows of its own missed time.

Attachments to marshes those swamps of decay man cant part with today until one daytheyll swallow him whole with all his odd affections. But for what I say? For rust and dust,mans silly devices; their values, tags, sale prices illusions of the ever dying time.

Yet the lantern at the crossroads of time still flickers and sheds its hazy light. Its hazy anddim for since eons of time it was not dusted or washed, left to disrepair. Alas, it was leftalone and not cared for since this gift was given, from long ago, before clocks were made tocater to time thats when man gave into slavery and its ticking sound. I point out that light Iseek to revive; its glint has not gone out; it can be revived.

Say, Its preposterous for everyone must die yet it is so sad and depressive, so grievousto ones heart; affectedly foreign, yes its bizarre, yet we have embraced death and domesti-cated like those roaming free boars, like chickens, cats and dogs.

We follow the numbers and the moving arms of the regulators of time. Like gods weworship the skipping intervals of time and the rhythmic beat of planets orbiting the sun. Oureyes look down and our souls do follow the down-spiraling trail weve been busy cuttingfrom dawn till sunset with calloused hands and sweat of the brow. What have we achieved

by harnessing the atom? Death we breed and death we follow being so impressed withCains ways, his dcor and his vain sophistication.

Gold - Cains god, he gave it to us to appraise and esteem and fall in love with. Thosehandles on your coffer, the inner lining too, is made out of the shiny glimmer and gold-likeyellow brand whence it came to whence you plan to go.

Those tears you shed at that last farewell dont dry up too easy they resurface and staywet, but not after the clock struck its final bell. The next of kin then follows the trail, whichCain had cut and always trekked; in time it hardened; nows frozen solid and still.


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Your impressions are so strong and your lusts overbearing for you must acquire and thenpossess the Cain manufactured wares then imitate his pomp, adorn yourself with glitz - ever-present diamond-studded rattrap.

When life came to us there was peace. Silence spread itself like a colorful quilt and it cov-ered the earth with still anticipation. High hopes and expectations of the bud the futureblooming flower; man reflecting God beautiful and free.

For the very first time the maker of mankind looked down and watched mans resolve thefinal choice and every move. He gave us the wrong, but also the right; then gently nudged ustoward that wondrous tree He named ( Etz Daath) the Tree of Knowledge.Choose, choose He said and then Choose again. Choose what is right, choose Meplease. Choose life!

God made also SHOOV the power to return, but then He stepped into shadows ofEdens foliage and hid Himself in pleads and folds of time as if to mourn the leaving of Hischildren His prodigal sons. Ever since that day the universe expends, stars and planets keepdrifting farther out into cosmic space being ever closer drawn to that dumping ground theblack hole; away from the sun, which drifts so ever nearer to the sealed with death mankind;for matter will be swallowed; its just a matter of time.

Man has become like one of Us God said; Knowing TOV and RAH, he might stretchhis hand and reach for the fruit of the tree of life, then hell live forever far away from Mefrom My heart and My love. Desperate measures you might say, but unless you know Hisheart you are lost to time, it is a cruel rule and vile subjugation. Let your soul now grasp thesparks these words fan out.

If you are asleep then youre dead, unfeeling, unyielding, obstinate and lost in this drowsyhaze of yours. The frozen rain you have beckoned and accepted as your friend and not yourfoe tightens every blood cell once so happy and warm vigorously trekked giving your frailframe new strength. Awake, awake put on a brand new garb! Make yourself ready for theendlessness of time!

Man was sent away for such was Gods plan that he should replenish the surface of the

earth with his own special kind and in course of time bring back the sublime. It was no mis-hap or deliberation of some sinister evil kind from far beyond the clouds from the realm ofno time, but lessons, which only the wise would recognize and then embrace without thepinch and splash of time, a spice as needless as those marshes and swamps.

Its our return God has been after ever since the original creation of time. When SHOOVbegins to turn its healing repairing wheels then time slips away and loses all ground. Thoseinquisitors torture wheels then jam and permanently lock; they do fall silent, and with themtheir victims wails.

My Spirit shall not strive forever with man, which I had made for he too became fleshsubjected to time; nonetheless his days shall be as long as one hundred and twenty and thatis the max.God said for He still longs for man to make the journey back; and on his owncoffin, hammer down no nail, but time.

A realm of no shadows

Shadows, more shadows and restless roving eyes; for the restless soul seeks peace, but ingloom, silhouettes of the warping time; it warps the truth found in bright light. Gloom andshapes excite the senses in a mystical twist seeking not repose, but more of the same, butwhy? Is there no solution; the truth bell tolls in vain? Deaf ears become deafer. While still in


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mothers womb those ears did hear that innocent sound of the heavenly truth as told by itsmothers heartbeat, which borrowed its rhythm from the launch of time.

This rhythm I speak of here, the pulse of distances fixed only by time to be torn downand then united as one glorious creation; song of the past, future and the now. The sound ishere its beatsmeasured in seventhsmust rest on the seventh all-else does not matter.Peaceful tranquility and stillness of thought, the roaming mind submits its brow and bows to

the ruler from beyond the time.That wind driven feather just fell on your soul and brought you the memory of warmth

when you were still in your mothers womb. So peaceful so blissful until youve goneastray into that gloom pursuing those absent senseless shadows warped by the ruthless mas-ter called time.

Have you no desire, longing for that lantern still standing at the crossroads of time? Thechoices are four, directions are three for one you have chosen and grope in the murk. Haveyou lost direction all points of reference the sense of wrong and right? Is there no other way,but only the wide? The zigzags and maze a bundle of feelings; alas, they confuse yourthoughts. Who am I and where am I going? Whats the purpose of life?

That one road you took leads also back, back to the crossroads of time; where that lan-

tern still beckons you with brightly luminous and open shafts of light to be embraced andkissed on the mouth like your beloved companion and friend.

Why is it so hard to turn back the clock? Roll up the time like an ancient scroll; undo thewriting and let the ink fade. Erase the records of every heartache and pain.

Innocence beckons and smiles at you; its incredulity those ignorant doubts that keepholding you down like tent-pegs in the ground with strings attached to that rattled andtossed abode of yours.

Let go; cut those strings that tie you down to those deadly things. A life shortening forceis not of those elements like gravity or time, but of attachments to things that rot, rust, decayin time. They found their residence inside your mind subliminally ruling over your body andsoul.

Your spirit, behind bars now, longs to exit the frame it vivified for a time. Its service toyou is not well esteemed with thoughts of thanks and praise. Look for the lanterns brightestbeacon of light and let it flash now only on one path. Take its proposal; embrace the light.

You will be happy when you leave behind those burdens youve carried for a very longtime. Take a respite breathe the now cleaner air. Take in, inhale and fill your soul with feel-ings of joy, peace and with remorse. Ignorance will fade as the new knowledge flows in likethe unleashed and once dammed river divine. It will flood your consciousness and the sub-liminal mind too. And when you let, it will encompass, engulf and even subdue; and if youlet your soul to soar, and when you let your mind be free then you will bask and swing likefrom an abundantly green and fruitful tree. For then youll be most satisfied and filled withplenty of provisionGods ecstatic and never-ending love. It is very much here it has notgone into hiding. Alas it was weeping over you my child. That one path you chose was not

of His choice and not of His plan for you.Driven by wind of the Most Holy One these words have come your way; His feather-

kisses will give you peaceful, most blessed assurance and with them comes the undying trust. All things will be well. No worry, no fret, no fuss. His mouth drip with honey, sweetestwords ever, laden with power the essence of life you have ever encountered they now comeyour way. Embrace His plan. Return to that lantern at the crossroads of time.

You could be so much more than you are right now. You could soar and fly high, butyour wings keep being clipped giving them no time to heal. The injuries have been numer-


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ous, the love of a woman or love of a man turns into those sticks between your feathers. Thetime lost on pleasing and endless diversions, give you no power, but only take your strengthaway.

The energies you have are endless, but the supply is endless too. But you have not knownthat until now for you are reading it now. The decision and choice are lacking now for somelonger intervals of time. Your wings are weak, your resolve has waned, and youve wrapped

yourself in a quilt of comforts, artifice the endless status quo.Time keeps rolling on while your call keeps resting on those dusty shelves in a library of

regrets, missed chances and those wrong turns in life. If I only could go back again to thosecrossroads of time and see what Ive missed through my ignorance and dullness of mind; Idgive anything to see the consequence of my choice, one two or many more, amiss or right?But am I God?

What remains is trust in what I chose in life that mustve been the path God paved for mefor He shone His light on it for much too long. Would I step into shadows and gropetherein; like a blind man whose only guide is his cane and a sense of smell? The light Heshone for my feet was for none others, twas the light I followed until this time. What re-mains is trust, perhaps a blind conformity to the fated will of yours. Oh God, I trust in Thee

I fall at your mercy feet.

The Forestalled Attainment

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