Leaderboard

When I was in what must have been about the second grade or so, I heard something about how diamonds were made. Of course, the explanation was tailored for the understanding of a wide eyed 7 year old boy, filled with wonder of all things scientific. Something about coal and heat and pressure. It sounded like magic. So, along with the kid who lived two houses down the street and was every bit as intrigued as me, I descended deliberately down the stairs that led to the coal cellar and scooped up a handful of what I was sure were potential diamonds. We found some old burlap scraps and tied them up into a makeshift parcel, as tight as we could so they would be tightly squeezed. We took some old twine and hung that parcel from the sunny side of the big maple tree that stood guard over my house. And we waited. And waited. And waited. We desperately wanted those old lumps of coal to somehow become shiny gems. Well, after what seemed like an eternity to a couple of 7 year old boys, curiosity got the best of us and we opened the parcel. Imagine our disappointment in finding nothing had changed. And so, my friends, the 1942 promise, along with PFAL, is a bit like the contents of that parcel we so tightly wrapped and placed where the heat of the sun could work its magic. Go ahead. Open it up. Look at it closely. Look at it from different angles. Look at it up close and from across the room. Nothing will change. It's still just a couple of lumps of coal, unable to transform into much of anything of real value. edit: If the parcel fits, you must...uhmm...something.

Saint Vic stated in the class that when God gives revelation it's complete. So if God told Saint Vic there were manuscripts we haven't discovered, why didn't he also tell Saint Vic were they were? i think if God was going to say anything to Saint Vic, it would be: "What are you doing to my daughters?"

To keep things interesting on this thread ... here's one of my blog posts at https://charleneedge.com dated: May 10, 2018. It's a letter from a pastor in New Knoxville, OH. Echo in New Knoxville, Ohio: Minister Reads Undertow | Charlene L. Edge (charleneedge.com)

Curiosity leads to finding out. A charlatan’s greatest fear is being found out for who he is. (Rest is not literally sit. It is not a free radical.)