“I no longer believe that freedom and democracy are compatible.” -Peter Thiel

Elon Musk copted and Peter Thiel founded a company that became PayPal.

Other executives at PayPal went on to found or lead other huge tech companies including YouTube, LinkedIn, Reddit, Affirm, and many VC firms.

This group became known as the PayPal mafia because they basically controlled Silicon Valley.

Peter Thiel mentored a young JD Vance and helped him get set up in his first VC firm.

Peter Thiel and the PayPal mafia funded JD Vance's successful Senate run. Amazing because he had absolutely zero political experience.

Thiel and Musk all but forced Trump to choose JD Vance as VP in exchange for funding his presidential campaign.

The three of them, plus a lot of other tech billionaires subscribe to an ideology called the Dark Enlightenment espoused by this super weird, creepy dude: Curtis Yarvin aka Mencius Moldbug.

Yarvin preaches that the media and academia represent "The Cathedral" that secretly controls power and must be dismantled.

He advocates for a corporate run, monarchy, led by a CEO-Dictator. If Trump is gone from office, perhaps by Vance organizing a 25th Amendment removal due to claims about Trump’s cognitive decline, Vance moves in and that process begins.

Remember, it was just a couple of years ago when Musk said Trump was too old to even be a CEO, let alone the president.

Yarvin says that Democracy is an "outdated software" and openly opposes it and that:

- Government agencies should be dismantled and The U.S. should be broken up into "patchworks" controlled by tech oligarchs.

- That the elite tech billionaires should rule because they have the intelligence to "fix" society

- That the "masses are asses" too dumb to govern themselves.

The strategy is to gut the government via R.A.G.E - Retire All Govt Employees to make government incapable of operating.

Then to replace government with private corporations.

To eliminate elections because they are "obsolete"

To use distraction and chaos to prevent public resistance.

Trump is their useful tool to be disposed of as soon as they can wrest control.

This is why Elon wears a black MAGA hat. They are not Trump supporters, they are "Dark MAGA"

This isn't a hypothetical. The plan is already in motion:

- Musk, Thiel, and their network are actively dismantling democratic institutions.

- JD Vance, the “MAGA heir,” is being positioned to help implement this transition.

- The public is too distracted to realize what’s happening.

- If successful, democracy in America will be permanently replaced by a corporate-run authoritarian state.

Kim Clement's prophecy: They'll call him ungodly, but God hides his heart!
https://rumble.com/v6ws0j4-kim-clements-prophecy-theyll-call-him-ungodly-but-god-hides-his-heart.html

Whisperwing, the Spirit of Night Blooms

Long ago, when the Earth was young and the stars were still learning to dance, there lived a guardian spirit named Whisperwing, a sacred night butterfly born of moonlight and flower dreams. Her wings shimmered with the glow of dusk, painted in deep blues and violets—colors only seen in the quietest part of night.

Whisperwing was created by Lunoma, the Moon Maiden, to carry messages between the spirit world and the dreams of the living. She fluttered through midnight meadows and across sleeping forests, her wings stirring wind that whispered secrets into flowers, guiding lost souls home.

Every petal she touched would bloom with sacred light, and every shadow she passed through would remember her path. The stars watched her in awe, calling her "The Silent Flame", for she burned with no fire, but illuminated hearts.

It was said that if you saw Whisperwing in your dreams, your soul was being chosen—for healing, for transformation, or for a journey. Elders taught that when the crescent moon rose high and the air smelled of wild lavender, you must leave a bowl of water and flowers by your door. If Whisperwing passed, the petals would float, and a new path would open in your life by morning.

To this day, her legend lives on. Many Native dreamweavers still embroider her wings onto their blankets and sing to her under starlit skies:

"Fly, Whisperwing, through sky and root,
Bearer of truth on violet flute.
Where moonlight dances, there you roam,
Guide our spirit gently home."

And so she flies—forever between the veil of night and bloom, unseen, yet always felt.

#nativeamericanwisdom

Spurgeon's Morning and Evening Devotions

Evening, August 5

"Shall your brethren go to war, and shall ye sit here?" Numbers 32:6

Kindred has its obligations. The Reubenites and Gadites would have been unbrotherly if they had claimed the land which had been conquered, and had left the rest of the people to fight for their portions alone. We have received much by means of the efforts and sufferings of the saints in years gone by, and if we do not make some return to the church of Christ by giving her our best energies, we are unworthy to be enrolled in her ranks. Others are combating the errors of the age manfully, or excavating perishing ones from amid the ruins of the fall, and if we fold our hands in idleness we had need be warned, lest the curse of Meroz fall upon us. The Master of the vineyard saith, "Why stand ye here all the day idle?" What is the idler's excuse? Personal service of Jesus becomes all the more the duty of all because it is cheerfully and abundantly rendered by some. The toils of devoted missionaries and fervent ministers shame us if we sit still in indolence. Shrinking from trial is the temptation of those who are at ease in Zion: they would fain escape the cross and yet wear the crown; to them the question for this evening's meditation is very applicable. If the most precious are tried in the fire, are we to escape the crucible? If the diamond must be vexed upon the wheel, are we to be made perfect without suffering? Who hath commanded the wind to cease from blowing because our bark is on the deep? Why and wherefore should we be treated better than our Lord? The firstborn felt the rod, and why not the younger brethren? It is a cowardly pride which would choose a downy pillow and a silken couch for a soldier of the cross. Wiser far is he who, being first resigned to the divine will, groweth by the energy of grace to be pleased with it, and so learns to gather lilies at the cross foot, and, like Samson, to find honey in the lion.

Spurgeon's Morning and Evening Devotions

Evening, August 4

"I smote you with blasting and with mildew and with hail in all the labours of your hands." Haggai 2:17

How destructive is the hail to the standing crops, beating out the precious grain upon the ground! How grateful ought we to be when the corn is spared so terrible a ruin! Let us offer unto the Lord thanksgiving. Even more to be dreaded are those mysterious destroyers- smut, bunt, rust, and mildew. These turn the ear into a mass of soot, or render it putrid, or dry up the grain, and all in a manner so beyond all human control that the farmer is compelled to cry, "This is the finger of God." Innumerable minute fungi cause the mischief, and were it not for the goodness of God, the rider on the black horse would soon scatter famine over the land. Infinite mercy spares the food of men, but in view of the active agents which are ready to destroy the harvest, right wisely are we taught to pray, "Give us this day our daily bread." The curse is abroad; we have constant need of the blessing. When blight and mildew come they are chastisements from heaven, and men must learn to hear the rod, and Him that hath appointed it.

Spiritually, mildew is no uncommon evil. When our work is most promising this blight appears. We hoped for many conversions, and lo! a general apathy, an abounding worldliness, or a cruel hardness of heart! There may be no open sin in those for whom we are labouring, but there is a deficiency of sincerity and decision sadly disappointing our desires. We learn from this our dependence upon the Lord, and the need of prayer that no blight may fall upon our work. Spiritual pride or sloth will soon bring upon us the dreadful evil, and only the Lord of the harvest can remove it. Mildew may even attack our own hearts, and shrivel our prayers and religious exercises. May it please the great Husbandman to avert so serious a calamity. Shine, blessed Sun of Righteousness, and drive the blights away.

Whispers Beneath the Moon

In a meadow where the wildflowers glowed blue beneath the light of the full moon, two sisters stood side by side, their dark hair flowing like rivers of night. They were wrapped in sacred robes woven by their grandmother, stitched with strands of spirit and sky.

Their names were Taya and Suni, daughters of the Moonwatcher Clan, known for their wisdom in reading the stars and listening to the whispers of the land. Tonight was no ordinary night. It was the Night of Remembering, when the veil between the past and present grew thin and the voices of the ancestors could be heard in the rustle of pine and the shimmer of stardust.

As they gazed at the glowing moon, Taya whispered, “Can you hear them, Suni?”

The younger sister nodded slowly. “They are singing.”

The sky above swirled in purples and blues, the stars glittering like ancient eyes watching over them. A faint melody filled the air—not with instruments, but with memory. It was the song their mother used to sing at bedtime, the one passed down for generations. A lullaby of healing, of journeys across forests, of waiting under the moon for signs from the Great Spirit.

Taya closed her eyes and placed a hand over her heart. “They are guiding us,” she said softly. “We are not alone.”

Behind them, the forest stood like guardians, tall and silent. The sisters knew that tomorrow would bring challenges. The world outside their homeland was changing, forgetting, moving too fast. But here—beneath the moon—they remembered who they were.

Daughters of the Earth. Carriers of old songs. Watchers of the sky.

And in that sacred moment, the night sky pulsed with color, the stars danced a little brighter, and the spirits smiled—knowing that the story would live on through these two young souls.

#nativeamericanwisdom

Job
Chapter 9

1 Then Job answered and said,

2 I know it is so of a truth: but how should man be just with God?

3 If he will contend with him, he cannot answer him one of a thousand.

4 He is wise in heart, and mighty in strength: who hath hardened himself against him, and hath prospered?

5 Which removeth the mountains, and they know not: which overturneth them in his anger.

6 Which shaketh the earth out of her place, and the pillars thereof tremble.

7 Which commandeth the sun, and it riseth not; and sealeth up the stars.

8 Which alone spreadeth out the heavens, and treadeth upon the waves of the sea.

9 Which maketh Arcturus, Orion, and Pleiades, and the chambers of the south.

10 Which doeth great things past finding out; yea, and wonders without number.

11 Lo, he goeth by me, and I see him not: he passeth on also, but I perceive him not.

12 Behold, he taketh away, who can hinder him? who will say unto him, What doest thou?

13 If God will not withdraw his anger, the proud helpers do stoop under him.

14 How much less shall I answer him, and choose out my words to reason with him?

15 Whom, though I were righteous, yet would I not answer, but I would make supplication to my judge.

16 If I had called, and he had answered me; yet would I not believe that he had hearkened unto my voice.

17 For he breaketh me with a tempest, and multiplieth my wounds without cause.

18 He will not suffer me to take my breath, but filleth me with bitterness.

19 If I speak of strength, lo, he is strong: and if of judgment, who shall set me a time to plead?

20 If I justify myself, mine own mouth shall condemn me: if I say, I am perfect, it shall also prove me perverse.

21 Though I were perfect, yet would I not know my soul: I would despise my life.

22 This is one thing, therefore I said it, He destroyeth the perfect and the wicked.

23 If the scourge slay suddenly, he will laugh at the trial of the innocent.

24 The earth is given into the hand of the wicked: he covereth the faces of the judges thereof; if not, where, and who is he?

25 Now my days are swifter than a post: they flee away, they see no good.

26 They are passed away as the swift ships: as the eagle that hasteth to the prey.

27 If I say, I will forget my complaint, I will leave off my heaviness, and comfort myself:

28 I am afraid of all my sorrows, I know that thou wilt not hold me innocent.

29 If I be wicked, why then labour I in vain?

30 If I wash myself with snow water, and make my hands never so clean;

31 Yet shalt thou plunge me in the ditch, and mine own clothes shall abhor me.

32 For he is not a man, as I am, that I should answer him, and we should come together in judgment.

33 Neither is there any daysman betwixt us, that might lay his hand upon us both.

34 Let him take his rod away from me, and let not his fear terrify me:

35 Then would I speak, and not fear him; but it is not so with me.

Spurgeon's Morning and Evening Devotions

Evening, August 2

"So she gleaned in the field until even." Ruth 2:17

Let me learn from Ruth, the gleaner. As she went out to gather the ears of corn, so must I go forth into the fields of prayer, meditation, the ordinances, and hearing the word to gather spiritual food. The gleaner gathers her portion ear by ear"; her gains are little by little: so must I be content to search for single truths, if there be no greater plenty of them. Every ear helps to make a bundle, and every gospel lesson assists in making us wise unto salvation. The gleaner keeps her eyes open: if she stumbled among the stubble in a dream, she would have no load to carry home rejoicingly at eventide. I must be watchful in religious exercises lest they become unprofitable to me; I fear I have lost much already- O that I may rightly estimate my opportunities, and glean with greater diligence. The gleaner stoops for all she finds, and so must I. High spirits criticize and object, but lowly minds glean and receive benefit. A humble heart is a great help towards profitably hearing the gospel. The engrafted soul-saving word is not received except with meekness. A stiff back makes a bad gleaner; down, master pride, thou art a vile robber, not to be endured for a moment. What the gleaner gathers she holds: if she dropped one ear to find another, the result of her day's work would be but scant; she is as careful to retain as to obtain, and so at last her gains are great. How often do I forget all that I hear; the second truth pushes the first out of my head, and so my reading and hearing end in much ado about nothing! Do I feel duly the importance of storing up the truth? A hungry belly makes the gleaner wise; if there be no corn in her hand, there will be no bread on her table; she labours under the sense of necessity, and hence her tread is nimble and her grasp is firm; I have even a greater necessity, Lord, help me to feel it, that it may urge me onward to glean in fields which yield so plenteous a reward to diligence.

EVERY ONE OF THESE MURDERERS NEED TO BE INJECTED WITH EVERYTHING THAT THEY HAVE DISHED OUT. MAKE THEM SUFFER GREATLY THEN THE ONES THAT ARE STILL ALIVE NEED HUNG.

"Is Dairy Corrupted?" w/ Forrest Maready
https://naomiwolf.substack.com/p/is-dairy-corrupted-w-forrest-maready?publication_id=676930&post_id=168892098&isFreemail=true&r=1maoyr&triedRedirect=true&utm_source=substack&utm_medium=email

Ghislaine Maxwell Breaks Silence: Epstein Has 'Insurance File' Showing Obama With Young Boys
https://rumble.com/v6wfhxs-ghislaine-maxwell-breaks-silence-epstein-has-insurance-file-showing-obama-w.html

Job
Chapter 1

1 There was a man in the land of Uz, whose name was Job; and that man was perfect and upright, and one that feared God, and eschewed evil.

2 And there were born unto him seven sons and three daughters.

3 His substance also was seven thousand sheep, and three thousand camels, and five hundred yoke of oxen, and five hundred she asses, and a very great household; so that this man was the greatest of all the men of the east.

4 And his sons went and feasted in their houses, every one his day; and sent and called for their three sisters to eat and to drink with them.

5 And it was so, when the days of their feasting were gone about, that Job sent and sanctified them, and rose up early in the morning, and offered burnt offerings according to the number of them all: for Job said, It may be that my sons have sinned, and cursed God in their hearts. Thus did Job continually.

6 Now there was a day when the sons of God came to present themselves before the LORD, and Satan came also among them.

7 And the LORD said unto Satan, Whence comest thou? Then Satan answered the LORD, and said, From going to and fro in the earth, and from walking up and down in it.

8 And the LORD said unto Satan, Hast thou considered my servant Job, that there is none like him in the earth, a perfect and an upright man, one that feareth God, and escheweth evil?

9 Then Satan answered the LORD, and said, Doth Job fear God for nought?

10 Hast not thou made an hedge about him, and about his house, and about all that he hath on every side? thou hast blessed the work of his hands, and his substance is increased in the land.

11 But put forth thine hand now, and touch all that he hath, and he will curse thee to thy face.

12 And the LORD said unto Satan, Behold, all that he hath is in thy power; only upon himself put not forth thine hand. So Satan went forth from the presence of the LORD.

13 And there was a day when his sons and his daughters were eating and drinking wine in their eldest brother's house:

14 And there came a messenger unto Job, and said, The oxen were plowing, and the asses feeding beside them:

15 And the Sabeans fell upon them, and took them away; yea, they have slain the servants with the edge of the sword; and I only am escaped alone to tell thee.

16 While he was yet speaking, there came also another, and said, The fire of God is fallen from heaven, and hath burned up the sheep, and the servants, and consumed them; and I only am escaped alone to tell thee.

17 While he was yet speaking, there came also another, and said, The Chaldeans made out three bands, and fell upon the camels, and have carried them away, yea, and slain the servants with the edge of the sword; and I only am escaped alone to tell thee.

18 While he was yet speaking, there came also another, and said, Thy sons and thy daughters were eating and drinking wine in their eldest brother's house:

19 And, behold, there came a great wind from the wilderness, and smote the four corners of the house, and it fell upon the young men, and they are dead; and I only am escaped alone to tell thee.

20 Then Job arose, and rent his mantle, and shaved his head, and fell down upon the ground, and worshipped,

21 And said, Naked came I out of my mother's womb, and naked shall I return thither: the LORD gave, and the LORD hath taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD.

22 In all this Job sinned not, nor charged God foolishly.

Spurgeon's Morning and Evening Devotions

Morning, July 28

"So foolish was I, and ignorant; I was as a beast before Thee." Psalm 73:22

Remember this is the confession of the man after God's own heart; and in telling us his inner life, he writes, "So foolish was I, and ignorant." The word "foolish", here, means more than it signifies in ordinary language. David, in a former verse of the Psalm, writes, "I was envious at the foolish when I saw the prosperity of the wicked," which shows that the folly he intended had sin in it. He puts himself down as being thus "foolish," and adds a word which is to give intensity to it; "so foolish was I." How foolish he could not tell. It was a sinful folly, a folly which was not to be excused by frailty, but to be condemned because of its perverseness and wilful ignorance, for he had been envious of the present prosperity of the ungodly, forgetful of the dreadful end awaiting all such. And are we better than David that we should call ourselves wise! Do we profess that we have attained perfection, or to have been so chastened that the rod has taken all our wilfulness out of us? Ah, this were pride indeed! If David was foolish, how foolish should we be in our own esteem if we could but see ourselves! Look back, believer: think of your doubting God when He has been so faithful to you- think of your foolish outcry of "Not so, my Father," when He crossed His hands in affliction to give you the larger blessing; think of the many times when you have read His providences in the dark, misinterpreted His dispensations, and groaned out, "All these things are against me," when they are all working together for your good! Think how often you have chosen sin because of its pleasure, when indeed, that pleasure was a root of bitterness to you! Surely if we know our own heart we must plead guilty to the indictment of a sinful folly; and conscious of this "foolishness," we must make David's consequent resolve our own- "Thou shalt guide me with Thy counsel."

Rider of the Dusk

When the sun dips low and the sky turns red,
A silent rider lifts their head.
On a blue horse born of cloud and flame,
They ride the trail without a name.

The wind remembers where they roam,
Carving paths between stars and home.
Birds above cry songs once sung
By our ancestors when the world was young.

Each step echoes in the sacred land,
Where spirit walks with open hand.
The flowers bow, the grasses lean—
They know this one, the in-between.

Neither lost nor truly gone,
This rider waits till night is dawn.
For those who see with open eyes
Will ride with them beneath the skies.

Serin Alar

#nativeamericanwisdom

Where the Moon Whispers Peace

I stand beneath the full white moon,
It's light falling like a prayer.
Beside me, the white deer waits—
not as a beast, but as a blessing.

She looks to the sky,
and the stars answer,
leaving paw prints of light
that drift down between us
like snow made of spirit.

I do not speak,
and yet I am heard.
The earth beneath my feet is soft—
it knows my name.
The sky above wraps me
in the voice of my ancestors.

In this dream, there is no fear.
No fire of anger,
no hunger of greed.
Only the hum of life,
and the soft heartbeat of the land.

This is the world I dream of:
where we walk with the deer,
listen to the wind,
and live
in the stillness
of what is sacred.

Serin Alar

#nativeamericanwisdom

Whispers of the Wolf Spirit

As the sun sank into the cradle of the mountains, fire-kissing the lake with its final breath, a woman stood in stillness by the shore. Her name was Nayeli—“I love you” in the old tongue—and she was known as the Keeper of Echoes.

She wore robes etched with birds of the sky and dreams of the forest. Her heartbeat moved in rhythm with the earth, and her breath rose and fell with the wind. At her side stood the wolf—silent, fierce, eternal. His name was Shunkaha, the Spirit Who Walks Between.

Nayeli was born under a moon that wept rain and stars, a sign that she would speak not only with people but with the wild. From a young age, animals came to her like old friends returning home. The hawk circled above her. The deer bowed before her. And the wolf... the wolf never left her side.

It was said her voice could calm storms, and that when she closed her eyes at dusk, she listened to the voices of her ancestors through the howls of the pack. She did not command the wolf. She listened. She did not rule the wild. She walked with it.

One day, a drought came—drying rivers, silencing birdsong, cracking the land’s memory. While many prayed, Nayeli acted. With Shunkaha at her side, she followed the old canoe trails into forgotten forest paths. There, she sang the sacred songs—songs her grandmother once whispered over firelight.

And the land listened.

The rains returned. The lakes filled. The trees bowed low with new leaves. And on nights like this, when the sun melts into water and wolves stand guard at the edge of dreams, the elders smile and say:

“Nayeli walks with the wolf still. And in her silence, the world remembers how to breathe.”

#nativeamericanwisdom

Doctor Reveals What COVID Vaccines Do to the Lungs in Just One Week
This is devastating.

https://www.vigilantfox.com/p/doctor-reveals-what-covid-vaccines?publication_id=975571&post_id=168421501&isFreemail=true&r=1maoyr&triedRedirect=true&utm_source=substack&utm_medium=email

Spurgeon's Morning and Evening Devotions

Evening, July 22

"Behold the Man!" John 19:5

If there be one place where our Lord Jesus most fully becomes the joy and comfort of His people, it is where He plunged deepest into the depths of woe. Come hither, gracious souls, and behold the Man in the garden of Gethsemane; behold His heart so brimming with love that He cannot hold it in- so full of sorrow that it must find a vent. Behold the bloody sweat as it distils from every pore of His body, and falls upon the ground. Behold the Man as they drive the nails into His hands and feet. Look up, repenting sinners, and see the sorrowful image of your suffering Lord. Mark Him, as the ruby drops stand on the thorn-crown, and adorn with priceless gems the diadem of the King of Misery. Behold the Man when all His bones are out of joint, and He is poured out like water and brought into the dust of death; God hath forsaken Him, and hell compasseth Him about. Behold and see, was there ever sorrow like unto His sorrow that is done unto Him? All ye that pass by draw near and look upon this spectacle of grief, unique, unparalleled, a wonder to men and angels, a prodigy unmatched. Behold the Emperor of Woe who had no equal or rival in His agonies! Gaze upon Him, ye mourners, for if there be not consolation in a crucified Christ there is no joy in earth or heaven. If in the ransom price of His blood there be not hope, ye harps of heaven, there is no joy in you, and the right hand of God shall know no pleasures for evermore. We have only to sit more continually at the cross foot to be less troubled with our doubts and woes. We have but to see His sorrows, and our sorrows we shall be ashamed to mention; we have but to gaze into His wounds and heal our own. If we would live aright it must be by the contemplation of His death; if we would rise to dignity, it must be by considering His humiliation and His sorrow.

Spurgeon's Morning and Evening Devotions

Morning, July 21

"The daughter of Jerusalem hath shaken her head at thee." Isaiah 37:22

Reassured by the Word of the Lord, the poor trembling citizens of Zion grew bold, and shook their heads at Sennacherib's boastful threats. Strong faith enables the servants of God to look with calm contempt upon their most haughty foes. We know that our enemies are attempting impossibilities. They seek to destroy the eternal life, which cannot die while Jesus lives; to overthrow the citadel, against which the gates of hell shall not prevail. They kick against the pricks to their own wounding, and rush upon the bosses of Jehovah's buckler to their own hurt.

We know their weakness. What are they but men? And what is man but a worm? They roar and swell like waves of the sea, foaming out their own shame. When the Lord ariseth, they shall fly as chaff before the wind, and be consumed as crackling thorns. Their utter powerlessness to do damage to the cause of God and His truth, may make the weakest soldiers in Zion's ranks laugh them to scorn.

Above all, we know that the Most High is with us, and when He dresses Himself in arms, where are His enemies? If He cometh forth from His place, the potsherds of the earth will not long contend with their Maker. His rod of iron shall dash them in pieces like a potter's vessel, and their very remembrance shall perish from the earth. Away, then, all fears, the kingdom is safe in the King's hands. Let us shout for joy, for the Lord reigneth, and His foes shall be as straw for the dunghill.

"As true as God's own word is true;
Nor earth, nor hell, with all their crew,
Against us shall prevail.
A jest, and by-word, are they grown;
God is with us, we are his own,
Our victory cannot fail."

Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening Devotions

Morning, July 20

"The earnest of our inheritance." Ephesians 1:14

Oh! what enlightenment, what joys, what consolation, what delight of heart is experienced by that man who has learned to feed on Jesus, and on Jesus alone. Yet the realization which we have of Christ's preciousness is, in this life, imperfect at the best. As an old writer says, "'Tis but a taste!" We have tasted "that the Lord is gracious," but we do not yet know how good and gracious He is, although what we know of His sweetness makes us long for more. We have enjoyed the firstfruits of the Spirit, and they have set us hungering and thirsting for the fulness of the heavenly vintage. We groan within ourselves, waiting for the adoption. Here we are like Israel in the wilderness, who had but one cluster from Eshcol, there we shall be in the vineyard. Here we see the manna falling small, like coriander seed, but there shall we eat the bread of heaven and the old corn of the kingdom. We are but beginners now in spiritual education; for although we have learned the first letters of the alphabet, we cannot read words yet, much less can we put sentences together; but as one says, "He that has been in heaven but five minutes, knows more than the general assembly of divines on earth." We have many ungratified desires at present, but soon every wish shall be satisfied; and all our powers shall find the sweetest employment in that eternal world of joy. O Christian, antedate heaven for a few years. Within a very little time thou shalt be rid of all thy trials and thy troubles. Thine eyes now suffused with tears shall weep no longer. Thou shalt gaze in ineffable rapture upon the splendour of Him who sits upon the throne. Nay, more, upon His throne shalt thou sit. The triumph of His glory shall be shared by thee; His crown, His joy, His paradise, these shall be thine, and thou shalt be co-heir with Him who is the heir of all things.

The Three Generations of the Moon

In the heart of the snow-covered lands, where pine trees sing in the wind and the moon glows like a guardian spirit, there lived three women: the Daughter, the Mother, and the Grandmother. They were more than family — they were The Keepers of Memory.

Each of them held the wisdom of their time:

The Daughter carried the voice of the future.

The Mother carried the strength of the present.

The Grandmother carried the stories of the past.

Every winter, when the moon was full and the first snow began to fall, the three would gather at the edge of the forest, facing the sky. They stood side by side — one looking to tomorrow, one grounded in today, and one remembering yesterday.

On one such night, a great silence fell over the land. No birds flew. No wolves howled. Even the wind held its breath. The Grandmother lifted her eyes and said:

“The Spirit Moon calls us. It is time to sing the Song of Continuance.”

So they sang.

Their voices rose together — old and young, soft and strong — weaving a chant so ancient that even the snow paused to listen. As they sang, the forest glowed. The moonlight wrapped around them like a shawl, and from their breath, stars were born.

In that moment, a truth became clear: they were not just three women.

They were one spirit in three forms — the same soul moving through time, bound by love, memory, and the Earth itself.

When the song ended, the snowfall resumed. But something had changed. The forest seemed warmer. The trees stood taller. And far above, the moon shone with a knowing light.

To this day, the people say:

“When you hear snow falling like a whisper, the Three Generations are singing. And through them, we remember who we are.”

#nativeamericanwisdom

The bitch, pedo, pedovore, frazzledrip needs hung for what it has done to CHILDREN

Whispers Beneath the Moon

In a meadow where the wildflowers glowed blue beneath the light of the full moon, two sisters stood side by side, their dark hair flowing like rivers of night. They were wrapped in sacred robes woven by their grandmother, stitched with strands of spirit and sky.

Their names were Taya and Suni, daughters of the Moonwatcher Clan, known for their wisdom in reading the stars and listening to the whispers of the land. Tonight was no ordinary night. It was the Night of Remembering, when the veil between the past and present grew thin and the voices of the ancestors could be heard in the rustle of pine and the shimmer of stardust.

As they gazed at the glowing moon, Taya whispered, “Can you hear them, Suni?”

The younger sister nodded slowly. “They are singing.”

The sky above swirled in purples and blues, the stars glittering like ancient eyes watching over them. A faint melody filled the air—not with instruments, but with memory. It was the song their mother used to sing at bedtime, the one passed down for generations. A lullaby of healing, of journeys across forests, of waiting under the moon for signs from the Great Spirit.

Taya closed her eyes and placed a hand over her heart. “They are guiding us,” she said softly. “We are not alone.”

Behind them, the forest stood like guardians, tall and silent. The sisters knew that tomorrow would bring challenges. The world outside their homeland was changing, forgetting, moving too fast. But here—beneath the moon—they remembered who they were.

Daughters of the Earth. Carriers of old songs. Watchers of the sky.

And in that sacred moment, the night sky pulsed with color, the stars danced a little brighter, and the spirits smiled—knowing that the story would live on through these two young souls.

#nativeamericanwisdom