Tuesday, July 4, 2017

Kolbrin - Book of Scrolls - Chpt 32 - Lament of Nefatari



This is a widows lament, but it still holds serious theology.  The spirit form is clearly understood and accepted.

My developed understanding of spiritualism generally is now rather complete.  It is not seriously reflected in the Hebrew bible and poorly dealt with  in other traditions as well. At best we seem to have an emphasis on practice  and that is it.  Yet this material reflects my understanding rather well.

The surprise of the Kolbrin Bible is that it exactly reflects my understanding of 13950 BC and provides a theology that surely matches that of the pre-deluge or antediluvian civilization and will become commonly understood in our present civilization. 


Little of this could have been authored even a decade ago, yet i could write it now.  It is actually a welcome confirmation of my discovered alternate history...

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

THE LAMENT OF NEFATARI

They have placed my dear lord in the engulfing tomb, they have laid him to rest in eternal secure silence. We depart, we jovimey home but home is no more, it is rent apart and a place of dull shadows. Some with me are silent and solemn, some are weeping, some make show of weeping. Some suffer silently, some talk idly, some mask their sorrow with false mirth. It is a time of solitary heart pain.

Some say it is finished and others that he sails the sky, but I ask my soul and it says this is not the end. It is not finished, this is the beginning, which all loving things must know as they awake to a new dawn.

The years of earthly instruction are lefl; behind, the last lesson is read, the pupil has departed to take up his appointed task. He has been bom to life, and death has been left behind. There are no dead, just the departed living, death alone occupies the silent tomb. Death is a pause at the beginning of hfe, a hesitation before the light of a greater day.

Death is a deceiver, a non-existent thing of the shadows. From the creeping caterpillar comes the light-loving butterfly, and from the hard grain the full blooming barley. Who, looking at the date stone, can see therein the tree to be? Search the seed and the plant is nowhere to be found. Even so is it with the spirit. 

I trust in He who gave us life and love, but 1 suffer because of my loss. I am alone. Where is my lord, the one I loved, the sharer in my cup of joyfulness? Where is the caressing hand, the touch that soothed, the voice that strengthened my heart in times of distress, the consoling counsel, the quiet laugh that dispelled God-given hurt?  Though he has gone to glory, yet my heart shrinks, aching with solitary grief

I will keep him, that he wander not in the darkness; for he has been loved and cannot be alone for evermore. I will keep him, that he be not despaired and condemned to walk with himself; for he is a man who has loved  beyond himself.

He has stepped from his body as one steps from a mantle. He has left it as one leaves a discarded garment. 


His future is in my hands and I shall live in such wise that none can deny our reunion. There is a subtle something, I know that, that ties us together still. May I be given strength never to break the loving link which comforts me through the long night and sorrowful days.


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