A man's belly shall be satisfied with the fruit of his mouth; and with the increase of his lips shall he be filled. Death and life are in the power of the tongue; and they that love it shall eat the fruit thereof. - Proverbs 18: 20&21
You can build a beautiful house with positive language. One that opens its doors to love joy peace prosperity faith and hope. These are all seeds to the blessing. You know the one that finds you no matter where you are. The one that God adds no sorrow to. The one time has no effect on it leaps from seed to harvest and harvest to seed. The blessing that makes promises it can't break no matter what you do. Or you could build a prison. A place where the bare minimum is never enough. A place where the 60 and 100 fold can't survive because your faith ran out of hope. Where expectation is cancelled by curses you inherited not realizing that life is in the Blood.
I've lived in both places. Attached myself to curses that other people carried believing that it was all apart of being close. Carried pain and pleasure I wasn't suppose to know until my last name was changed. The things I spoke myself into. Hungry homeless and fearful.
But confession upgraded my status. We cut covenant and I drunk His blood and ate His flesh. Finally filled off His Word I moved on. Bought a mansion all cash no mortgage needed. Learned how to sow my seed and eat my harvest. From multicolored to red then white. The transformation cost me nothing. Stuffed settled and peaceful.
Incomplete Sentences
Constructed sentences produce vibrations from pen to paper
that travel between the world of abstract and concrete.
The mixing of the two creates the supernatural.
The tangible intangible God we touch see hear and feel daily.
We live in incomplete sentences.
Having a subject creating a verb and assuming a predicate.
Perception only disappoints when we mix facts with truth.
Perhaps it's your truth that isn't real.
Just perceived facts that steal what God gave you, kill who
you are, and destroy your destiny.
The man who chooses not to cry reaps no harvest.
The man who only has joy receives no wisdom.
You can build a beautiful house with positive language. One that opens its doors to love joy peace prosperity faith and hope. These are all seeds to the blessing. You know the one that finds you no matter where you are. The one that God adds no sorrow to. The one time has no effect on it leaps from seed to harvest and harvest to seed. The blessing that makes promises it can't break no matter what you do. Or you could build a prison. A place where the bare minimum is never enough. A place where the 60 and 100 fold can't survive because your faith ran out of hope. Where expectation is cancelled by curses you inherited not realizing that life is in the Blood.
I've lived in both places. Attached myself to curses that other people carried believing that it was all apart of being close. Carried pain and pleasure I wasn't suppose to know until my last name was changed. The things I spoke myself into. Hungry homeless and fearful.
But confession upgraded my status. We cut covenant and I drunk His blood and ate His flesh. Finally filled off His Word I moved on. Bought a mansion all cash no mortgage needed. Learned how to sow my seed and eat my harvest. From multicolored to red then white. The transformation cost me nothing. Stuffed settled and peaceful.
Incomplete Sentences
Constructed sentences produce vibrations from pen to paper
that travel between the world of abstract and concrete.
The mixing of the two creates the supernatural.
The tangible intangible God we touch see hear and feel daily.
We live in incomplete sentences.
Having a subject creating a verb and assuming a predicate.
Perception only disappoints when we mix facts with truth.
Perhaps it's your truth that isn't real.
Just perceived facts that steal what God gave you, kill who
you are, and destroy your destiny.
The man who chooses not to cry reaps no harvest.
The man who only has joy receives no wisdom.
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