Coffee, The Internet, and a Pair of Manolo Blahnik’s; Is there Anything Better?

The rush of the day, the passing of endless souls, brushing by in the speeding carriage’s of their lives.

A man with his chin so bent on getting where he is going, the very act of steering his car falls behind the plane of his perception. Speed and consideration of others are of no concern to him, only getting what he wants as soon as possible, at all costs.

A woman talks in silent screams as the two thousand pounds of speeding death hurls past children. In her mind slightly more important then the mascara she is trying to apply while looking in the rear view mirror, is the conversation with her friend, a tennis match exchange of words regarding last nights ridiculous excuse for a date, keeping the car straight steering with her knee tends to be a skill she wishes she could add to a resume.

Truck drivers half asleep, pushing exhaustion past the veils of half closed eyes, caffeine jolts to slap their tired cheeks. Thinking of anything, nothing, dreaming of times removed from the never ending blur of the roads vibrations. They have no idea the deadly force that rests just below every slumbering nod.

Overworked and under appreciated police officers, who only receive as accolade for a life risked, protecting the unknowing violator of yet another law designed for one purpose and that is to protect their very lives, the hard working police take on their chin the verbal abuse, or ridicule as she politely hands the ticket through the window. How many have said goodbye for the last time innocent children with a kiss in the morning just to be met with life last breath at the end of a gun only hours later.

A homeless man with another sign, another hand reaching for some mercy, some relief to the burden that weighs deep within his stomach. Seemingly invisible to the majority of people who pass by each day, funny how people will perform as if they don’t see Me, yet the very act of turning away throws out a perpetual blow to His heart; “They look away, obviously and revoltingly like I suffer from leprosy.” “Can they not even give a smile?”

How many homes do I pass on my way to my favorite coffee shop in the morning, how many shells of unfulfilled dreams peering out through the lifeless eyes of empty window panes? How many stories, how many sweet children, eyes full of life and wonder, longing for the very things I myself hunger for every morning as the light appears graciously back in my eyes. This thought doesn’t even penetrate the glass of my car anymore then the breath of many I speed by.

Finally arriving, park the car and hurry into line, the coffee aroma drawing me along, walking past the many souls transfixed into the mirror of their many conversations and computer screens.

Their hands and eyes wielding in synchronized procession across the tablets of their earthly sculptures, ever carving the moments of the life they manufacture for this day. Desperately attempting to feed the empty tin cup that lies just under the surface waters of vision.

Conversations a many, derived from the needs of a heart, desperate hungers of all earthly types being fed by the words and body language of those who eager to receive. Do they not see the hands outstretched longing for some bauble of satisfaction, waiting with tearful eye, desperately shaking in hopeful anticipation for a single morsel of bread.

The ridged posturing of a man in his crisp clean shirt, his tin cup being held out to the vast world in the great void of the screen that unfolds before his eyes, eagerly awaiting the tell tale sound of the metallic clanging of dropping coin.

A slender princess lounges on a leather chair, sipping coffee, and conversing with the other beautiful children sporting the latest Manolo Blahnik’s, never chancing a glimpse of the sheer dark loneliness that rests below the surface of her eye. Her eager words, bulging the very dam that holds back the true ideals her soul so desperately wishes to give. Words that plead; “see me!”

How many ten’s, hundred’s, maybe even thousand’s have I just casually walked past. Driving through lives, peoples of desperate concern and loneliness.

How many blind, that had no idea, Jesus Himself was even walking by, until He stopped and reached out a hand, until the supernatural actually made contact with the natural? Did they even have a slightest impression that the day was about to become brighter?

The Greatest man that ever lived was always giving, never needing to receive. But no did He not receive, for as a man who had never seen the light of a beautiful morning sky suddenly receives a gift more valuable then the entire worlds gold, does He not give praise in the form of undeniable thanks?

How many thousand’s just experiencing the nature of Christ’s gift on earth, the realization of the fact that the greatest ruler of all the universe, took time to walk by and glance their way, how would such an experience of just seeing His face change so many lives? How many loaves of bread are given with each smile?

How many tin cups, how many lonely hearts, how many aching stomach’s were filled with immediate satisfactory love?

The Great Man went and sat by a well, and when a strange woman approaches He asks her to get Him some water. The woman who was used to being ignored by a man such as Him, was surprised at the request, but more so by His retort; “If thou knewest the gift of God, and who it is that saith to thee, Give Me to drink; thou wouldest have asked of Him, and He would have given thee living water….but whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst..”

Are we not called to give so?

And the servant of a Great Lord said to Him; “…I was afraid, and went and hid my gift in the earth away so nobody could see; there I kept for You what is Yours. His Lord answered and said unto him, Thou wicked and slothful servant…. You should have at least put My money into a basic use as I could have at least got interest, or a future payment… but now even the little I take from you and give to him who has done well.”

If its true, and I believe it is, that Christ lives in me, and the mere sight of Him can fill a heart with living water as to never thirst again, then how guilty am I for taking this most precious gift and burying it in a jar in the yard for nobody to see, and not even simple interest on this treasure was to be made. I can at the very least demonstrate His love with a smile or the glimmer of Him in my eye.

How many souls do I pass on my way to my favorite coffee in the morning, how many shells of unfulfilled dreams peering out through the lifeless eyes of empty lamps of the soul? How many stories, how many sweet children, eyes full of life and wonder, longing for the very things I myself hunger for every morning as the light appears graciously back in my eyes. This thought doesn’t even penetrate the constant noise of my blue tooth anymore then the breath of many I speed by.

By Peter Colla

“Dear Lord burn through me a desire to express You in my every word, smile and even look. Create in me a new You, allow me to bless instead of desiring to be blessed, grant me the ability to love, instead of just desiring to be loved, chisel and form more the likeness of You and less that of me. Give me the boldness to lift my eyes and see.”

Amen

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Coffee, The Internet, and a Pair of Manolo Blahnik’s; Is there Anything Better?

The rush of the day, the passing of endless souls, brushing by in the speeding carriage’s of their lives.

A man with his chin so bent on getting where he is going, the very act of steering his car falls behind the plane of his perception. Speed and consideration of others are of no concern to him, only getting what he wants as soon as possible, at all costs.

A woman talks in silent screams as the two thousand pounds of speeding death hurls past children. In her mind slightly more important then the mascara she is trying to apply while looking in the rear view mirror, is the conversation with her friend, a tennis match exchange of words regarding last nights ridiculous excuse for a date, keeping the car straight steering with her knee tends to be a skill she wishes she could add to a resume.

Truck drivers half asleep, pushing exhaustion past the veils of half closed eyes, caffeine jolts to slap their tired cheeks. Thinking of anything, nothing, dreaming of times removed from the never ending blur of the roads vibrations. They have no idea the deadly force that rests just below every slumbering nod.

Overworked and under appreciated police officers, who only receive as accolade for a life risked, protecting the unknowing violator of yet another law designed for one purpose and that is to protect their very lives, the hard working police take on their chin the verbal abuse, or ridicule as she politely hands the ticket through the window. How many have said goodbye for the last time innocent children with a kiss in the morning just to be met with life last breath at the end of a gun only hours later.

A homeless man with another sign, another hand reaching for some mercy, some relief to the burden that weighs deep within his stomach. Seemingly invisible to the majority of people who pass by each day, funny how people will perform as if they don’t see Me, yet the very act of turning away throws out a perpetual blow to His heart; “They look away, obviously and revoltingly like I suffer from leprosy.” “Can they not even give a smile?”

How many homes do I pass on my way to my favorite coffee shop in the morning, how many shells of unfulfilled dreams peering out through the lifeless eyes of empty window panes? How many stories, how many sweet children, eyes full of life and wonder, longing for the very things I myself hunger for every morning as the light appears graciously back in my eyes. This thought doesn’t even penetrate the glass of my car anymore then the breath of many I speed by.

Finally arriving, park the car and hurry into line, the coffee aroma drawing me along, walking past the many souls transfixed into the mirror of their many conversations and computer screens.

Their hands and eyes wielding in synchronized procession across the tablets of their earthly sculptures, ever carving the moments of the life they manufacture for this day. Desperately attempting to feed the empty tin cup that lies just under the surface waters of vision.

Conversations a many, derived from the needs of a heart, desperate hungers of all earthly types being fed by the words and body language of those who eager to receive. Do they not see the hands outstretched longing for some bauble of satisfaction, waiting with tearful eye, desperately shaking in hopeful anticipation for a single morsel of bread.

The ridged posturing of a man in his crisp clean shirt, his tin cup being held out to the vast world in the great void of the screen that unfolds before his eyes, eagerly awaiting the tell tale sound of the metallic clanging of dropping coin.

A slender princess lounges on a leather chair, sipping coffee, and conversing with the other beautiful children sporting the latest Manolo Blahnik’s, never chancing a glimpse of the sheer dark loneliness that rests below the surface of her eye. Her eager words, bulging the very dam that holds back the true ideals her soul so desperately wishes to give. Words that plead; “see me!”

How many ten’s, hundred’s, maybe even thousand’s have I just casually walked past. Driving through lives, peoples of desperate concern and loneliness.

How many blind, that had no idea, Jesus Himself was even walking by, until He stopped and reached out a hand, until the supernatural actually made contact with the natural? Did they even have a slightest impression that the day was about to become brighter?

The Greatest man that ever lived was always giving, never needing to receive. But no did He not receive, for as a man who had never seen the light of a beautiful morning sky suddenly receives a gift more valuable then the entire worlds gold, does He not give praise in the form of undeniable thanks?

How many thousand’s just experiencing the nature of Christ’s gift on earth, the realization of the fact that the greatest ruler of all the universe, took time to walk by and glance their way, how would such an experience of just seeing His face change so many lives? How many loaves of bread are given with each smile?

How many tin cups, how many lonely hearts, how many aching stomach’s were filled with immediate satisfactory love?

The Great Man went and sat by a well, and when a strange woman approaches He asks her to get Him some water. The woman who was used to being ignored by a man such as Him, was surprised at the request, but more so by His retort; “If thou knewest the gift of God, and who it is that saith to thee, Give Me to drink; thou wouldest have asked of Him, and He would have given thee living water….but whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst..”

Are we not called to give so?

And the servant of a Great Lord said to Him; “…I was afraid, and went and hid my gift in the earth away so nobody could see; there I kept for You what is Yours. His Lord answered and said unto him, Thou wicked and slothful servant…. You should have at least put My money into a basic use as I could have at least got interest, or a future payment… but now even the little I take from you and give to him who has done well.”

If its true, and I believe it is, that Christ lives in me, and the mere sight of Him can fill a heart with living water as to never thirst again, then how guilty am I for taking this most precious gift and burying it in a jar in the yard for nobody to see, and not even simple interest on this treasure was to be made. I can at the very least demonstrate His love with a smile or the glimmer of Him in my eye.

How many souls do I pass on my way to my favorite coffee in the morning, how many shells of unfulfilled dreams peering out through the lifeless eyes of empty lamps of the soul? How many stories, how many sweet children, eyes full of life and wonder, longing for the very things I myself hunger for every morning as the light appears graciously back in my eyes. This thought doesn’t even penetrate the constant noise of my blue tooth anymore then the breath of many I speed by.

By Peter Colla

“Dear Lord burn through me a desire to express You in my every word, smile and even look. Create in me a new You, allow me to bless instead of desiring to be blessed, grant me the ability to love, instead of just desiring to be loved, chisel and form more the likeness of You and less that of me. Give me the boldness to lift my eyes and see.”

Amen

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Rocking My Child to Sleep; an excerpt out of “A Father’s Love”

Rocking My Son to Sleep

Among my most endearing activities of my parenting experience, one in which I had been truly blessed in participating with, shortly after the birth of son, was the activity of rocking him to sleep.

Hearing the young child cry, the saddened plea from a heart of utter dependency, dependent on me for her every need, how could a Father turn a deaf ear?

I couldn’t. He can’t!

Knowing that food, or the diaper was not an issue, the wife knew and provided most, but I tried to help when I could, mostly when she was so tired the extra sleep was as much of a gift for her, as the gift I was about to receive.

Not that I would deny him any need, how beautiful is the child when they desire the Father, coming with a need, and in this case the greatest need; love.

Sometimes people just want to know there is someone out there that cares. Why should the baby be any different, a dark room, finding yourself alone, after being in a loving mothers womb for the last ten months. The baby would get upset, shoot I would. But I have to admit that hearing her call for me, for just some loving comfort was better then Mozart to my ears.

I’ll go and pick him up. After seeing that nothing essential was needed, or giving some simple need that she may have, and then always a little holding, a little comfort, a translation of love from me to her, is all he needed to get a little sleep again, to fall back into that place of perfect contentment and warmth.

Now comes the good part; she wraps her little arms around me, enveloping his head into my chest as I gently rock, and maybe just speak some almost inaudible tone as to have her hear the soft rumbles of my voice while he lay.

The words; “my son, I love you so much”, “my daughter you are so precious to me”, maybe just a simple tune, roll off the Father tongue so easily, I believe no army of this land could stop me from demonstrating My love in words to him.

She nestles in, adjusting herself for a safe and comfortable place, That adjusting edging closer if that could be possible, to the point where the edge of me and the start of him is indistinguishable.

The soft breath of his soul, his very being fills my lounges with a sent of clean spring softness, touched with the essence of purity, that as it caresses my own, all the love that I have ever felt, the Father has ever known, give it’s overwhelming pull to wrap His powerful arms around His child. A place of total comfort, of complete safety.

Oh how I eagerly made minutes into hours as I rocked into the night. The touch of my own sleep wings slowly caressed my satisfied thoughts.

The tender gentleness of it’s perfect cheek, the soft cue of that perfect voice tingles My ear with a tears salty caress. I don’t know if every parent felt as I, and I don’t know if every parent was blessed with the feeling of love that I received, but the heat that issued out of my child penetrated and enveloped my heart as completely as a warm bath on a cool winters night. She gave to me, oh so much more then I felt I gave.

The tender grip of wanting fingers as they held tight their Father. All I could do to kiss that little hand. Oh could it but last an eternity.

As the Father, I never turned away from the call of My so precious child, ever eager to feel his love, the gift of her comfort as she lay trusting with Me. No I longed for the time and cherished every moment as being among my life greatest gift. No greater gift could he give Me then when he held me, no purer honor could she bestow then the trust, the comfort of her security.

This is My child of which I would gladly give My life.

The child I did give My life for.

By Peter Colla

“Thank You Lord Jesus, for every time You allowed me to come to You, every time I called out in the night, and every time You rocked me to sleep. I offer You all the love that I can, as praise to a most loving Father who never said no to His child.”

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Rocking My Child to Sleep; an excerpt out of “A Father’s Love”

Rocking My Son to Sleep

Among my most endearing activities of my parenting experience, one in which I had been truly blessed in participating with, shortly after the birth of son, was the activity of rocking him to sleep.

Hearing the young child cry, the saddened plea from a heart of utter dependency, dependent on me for her every need, how could a Father turn a deaf ear?

I couldn’t. He can’t!

Knowing that food, or the diaper was not an issue, the wife knew and provided most, but I tried to help when I could, mostly when she was so tired the extra sleep was as much of a gift for her, as the gift I was about to receive.

Not that I would deny him any need, how beautiful is the child when they desire the Father, coming with a need, and in this case the greatest need; love.

Sometimes people just want to know there is someone out there that cares. Why should the baby be any different, a dark room, finding yourself alone, after being in a loving mothers womb for the last ten months. The baby would get upset, shoot I would. But I have to admit that hearing her call for me, for just some loving comfort was better then Mozart to my ears.

I’ll go and pick him up. After seeing that nothing essential was needed, or giving some simple need that she may have, and then always a little holding, a little comfort, a translation of love from me to her, is all he needed to get a little sleep again, to fall back into that place of perfect contentment and warmth.

Now comes the good part; she wraps her little arms around me, enveloping his head into my chest as I gently rock, and maybe just speak some almost inaudible tone as to have her hear the soft rumbles of my voice while he lay.

The words; “my son, I love you so much”, “my daughter you are so precious to me”, maybe just a simple tune, roll off the Father tongue so easily, I believe no army of this land could stop me from demonstrating My love in words to him.

She nestles in, adjusting herself for a safe and comfortable place, That adjusting edging closer if that could be possible, to the point where the edge of me and the start of him is indistinguishable.

The soft breath of his soul, his very being fills my lounges with a sent of clean spring softness, touched with the essence of purity, that as it caresses my own, all the love that I have ever felt, the Father has ever known, give it’s overwhelming pull to wrap His powerful arms around His child. A place of total comfort, of complete safety.

Oh how I eagerly made minutes into hours as I rocked into the night. The touch of my own sleep wings slowly caressed my satisfied thoughts.

The tender gentleness of it’s perfect cheek, the soft cue of that perfect voice tingles My ear with a tears salty caress. I don’t know if every parent felt as I, and I don’t know if every parent was blessed with the feeling of love that I received, but the heat that issued out of my child penetrated and enveloped my heart as completely as a warm bath on a cool winters night. She gave to me, oh so much more then I felt I gave.

The tender grip of wanting fingers as they held tight their Father. All I could do to kiss that little hand. Oh could it but last an eternity.

As the Father, I never turned away from the call of My so precious child, ever eager to feel his love, the gift of her comfort as she lay trusting with Me. No I longed for the time and cherished every moment as being among my life greatest gift. No greater gift could he give Me then when he held me, no purer honor could she bestow then the trust, the comfort of her security.

This is My child of which I would gladly give My life.

The child I did give My life for.

By Peter Colla

“Thank You Lord Jesus, for every time You allowed me to come to You, every time I called out in the night, and every time You rocked me to sleep. I offer You all the love that I can, as praise to a most loving Father who never said no to His child.”

Posted in Christian, Uncategorized | 102 Comments

About Peter, A Vision in the Tub

Written for a dear friend two years ago;

Dear Friend,



I very rarely share anything personally with people until I have become quite close, and most individuals know very little of my truly personal life, this is the life that I hold most precious; my relationship with God, my children, my imitate family, and my closest friends. The following event happened in and around November 2008.

But for some strange reason I feel prompted to share with you. This fact has me a bit perplexed considering I have been brutally betrayed by women on at least two occasions, and the trust factor has been stretched at times.

 In the area of Trust, I find myself to be, (and I believe this has been used against me at times), often from the position to trust someone first, until they prove themselves to be untrustworthy.

I am a “optimist”, in what I have found to be a world of more pessimists then optimists. But once a person loses my trust, I find it very difficult for them to build it again. 

The things I am thinking of telling you in the next few pages are of the most personal to me, this is my walk.




Without getting into too much of a life’s history, lets just say that all at once I was facing losing my home, business, my family, any money I had was tied up in property that seemed to have no chance of liquidation, frozen assets stocks, etc. For a person who has taken care of themselves since they were literally 14, and had always had backup plans, this attack I was under seemed to be designed to destroy me, there was NO way out! 


I was so depressed that I could hardly eat, my whole life was being stolen from me by an adulterer/adulteress who came in and saw what they wanted, seduction was allowed and engaged upon, and they were in the process of stealing, and there was nothing I could do about it.

I remember I was having trouble sleeping, I had to take care of my three small children when she just left, that wasn’t so bad, but when she returned and decided that she was going to take everything for no other reason then “she could”, and her father had the money and power to do anything his daughter desired, this placed me in a position of constant worry.

My heart was racing, I was cold all the time, I could hardly wait for the children to go to bed, so I could lay in the Jacuzzi tub, often times for hours at a time; 10 or 11 until 3, 4 in the morning. It was crazy. 



Months prior to this, and this is important, there had been discussions of doing missions, I played in the church worship band on and off, for almost fifteen years, but make no mistake I had one foot solidly planted in the world. Amazing now that I look back, there were so many times that I would be watching a movie at night alone, and this might sound crazy, but God would speak to me through the words or images of some of these movies, and I would sit in my TV room crying out to Him; “I want to change, please help me change”. Never did I think He might actually answer. 



Well back to the “tub”, when everything was crashing down on me, I literally had no out! I didn’t know what to do, my heart constantly racing, and I even had to make the bath so hot just to give me even a remote sense of not having a chill all the time! 



I remember first earlier in the night looking down into the water at my hands and then realizing; “Oh that’s it!” I could see the peace in the water! 



I have walked and talked to God my whole life, and when I read the stories of David especially as a youth, I could completely identify with that, because I used to love just walking and talking to God, literally as long as I can remember. I always walked to school, even when others took the bus or their bike, I loved to walk. I did this mostly alone and I would carry on pretty long engaging conversations with, who I knew to be God. I knew it was God because the answers were often not anything I knew, or sometimes wanted to hear, but always good, true, peaceful, and full of love.

I had an image in my mind of whom I was talking to, and that image has never changed. I will describe that in a few minutes.



As I lay in the tub I remember the calmness of the water, and for the first time I could understand how someone could desire to end their life. That concept had always eluded me, even after loosing the love of my life, the woman I went all the way to Holland for, in a car accident. And to make matters even more tragic, that first love was driving to the hospital a day before she was due to deliver our second child. She was hit and killed instantly, her and the baby.

I will tell you I know she was killed instantly, but right now I’m not going to share how I know this, that one will have to wait. Even after all this time, those specific details are almost impossible for me to bring to the surface. Even with this, suicide had never even entered my mind, I had a daughter I needed to take care of, and frankly I always wondered; “how bad does it have to get, that people would want to end it?”

I guess I had finally seen.



So after my “Great” revelation about the calmness of the water, I laid there for who knows how long. All I know it was midnight or so, and it was in this tub I began to desperately to call out; “please help me, Lord please”, I wasn’t hearing anything and frankly I didn’t expect to.

Now when u pray, do you ever get any sparkles of light, maybe in the corner of your eyes when your eyes are closed? I would sometimes, when I would pray, not often, but sometimes, and even one time I asked my mother (a very strong Christian woman, who prior to this event I considered a wacko!), I asked her about this, and she said; she heard that this phenomenon may be a manifestation of the Holy Spirit, sounded cool.

Well I’m laying there, and my eyes are closed in the dark and the Jacuzzi stops, nothing special about that, because the thing was on a timer and would shut off after an hour or so anyway! 

I am just laying in there feeling the bubbles caress my skin, a moment of distraction in my life of utter anxiety, stress and desperate anguish. So I laid there and just rested and waited for what?, I didn’t know.

Then suddenly in the dark I started to see one of those little light sparkles in the corner of my eye, and I remember saying actually out loud; “Thank you, Thank you!, one thing! One thing in my life positive!” and then whoooosh! My whole field of vision went white!

As bright as a bright summers day, yet one that was cloud covered, you know those hazy clouds that just seem to make the whole sky bright white! 

For a moment I just sat there in the dark room staring at the bright white field before my eyes, thinking “this is nice”, and then within the whiteness suddenly I saw Christ standing there, kind of like my eyes adjusted, He was standing on rough water yet he was also standing on kind of like a cloud, the sky around Him was churning, with swirling dark clouds among the whiteness, but then it became clear that the bright light seemed to emulate from Him, behind Him or from His cloths.



Now His clothes they were interesting, and while they were bright as I could hardly stand to look at, yet I could easily look without any trouble, they were white and then again they weren’t!, kind of like, an off shade of white “Ivory white or egg shell”. The cloth clearly was some kind of coarse linen, but it hung on him in such purity and majesty it seemed perfect.

He was looking towards me, but kind of next to me, turned slightly to left. I could clearly see the Right hand with the wound on the Right wrist, it red as a ruby!, and kind of angular?! He had a look on His face of calm, peace, and completely inviting compassion. His Hair was Red-Brown, but frankly shown in the light, making it hard to actually make out the color exactly, but I did see it was clearly wavy and shoulder length. 


I was just looking in awe, and suddenly as clear as I hear people right next to me, I hear; “get out of the boat and come to me”, all I could say was; “What?”…. “Get out of the boat and come to me!” again I said “what?” this time, kind of loud and with authority; “Get Out Of The Boat And Come To Me!” all I could manage to say was “Ok”, and in my mind I seemed to be getting out of the boat???

I felt a sudden calmness come over me, starting at the top of my head and spreading down all the way to my feet, and it sort of made me tingle almost as if something was being poured over my head. My heart stopped racing and I felt peace for the first time in a month! 



I then realized; “wait a minute, where am I?” I opened my eyes and realized I was still in the Tub! I quickly closed them again, but the image was gone! Suddenly the sinking feeling, a cold chill coming up from my feet and as it reached my heart, the racing heart started again, and as the chill got to my head, all the fears and anxieties returned. All I could think was; “that was a nice dream, back to reality!” 

Then the baby started crying (2 years old), I was alone in the house, so I got out of the tub went into his room and picked him up.

I had my favorite rocker in his room and I just held him and rocked him. As I held him I cried a bit (I seemed to do that a lot back then), and he just seemed to envelope himself into my chest, with his arms wrapped around me. I said to myself or probably to God; “Is this how it feels when we come to you?” And He said as clear as a loudspeaker in my head; “Yes!” and suddenly I could feel huge arms wrapped around me, and my anxiety seemed to lift, from my head down, the heart stopped racing, and a calmness and peace just came over me, giving me a complete feeling of knowing; “everything was going to be all right, no matter!” All my fear left me!



I sat there holding him for at least two hours, put him to bed, still “felt the Arms”, and went to bed, having the first restful sleep in weeks! I woke up the next days feeling great, “The Arms” still there and I went to work, a 125 mile drive to Phoenix feeling great all the way. Later that day I called my Pastor friend in Cuchara Co and told him of what happened to me, he asked me very specific questions of what I saw and how I felt during the episode, and then told me “you had a vision”, I was about 50/50, but he said “that’s ok, you will get more confirmation if it is truly God”.



My cousin had called, but I have been purposely avoiding his calls because I didn’t want to tell him of my problems, he lives in Wisconsin, and frankly he wouldn’t understand, plus I was ashamed of the impending divorce. But when I checked my messages he said “I really need to talk to you”, so I thought “why not?” I have the Arms around me, I feel good.

So I called Jerry, and the first thing he asks is “are u OK?”.

“I’m great!”, I said, I mean I had the “arms” around me still!.

He says “oh?” Kind of confused, and he goes on to describe a dream yesterday at 2 am, and that is funny because he never dreams and never, ever, remembers if he does, but this one wakes him straight up in bed crying out; “Pete, Pete!”, he even wakes his wife. He was dreaming we were in a boat together and I fell out, he pulled me in, and I fell out again, this time though the ice, so he was trying to pull me back yelling Pete, Pete and he woke up.

His wife asked him what was it, but he said nothing, and went back to sleep. Then the exact dream repeats at 4am this time his pastor and his very religious cousin are also in the boat holding him, as he tries to pull me back in. After waking up twice, his wife says you need to call Pete in the morning!

He asks me “do you know what it means?”

I said no but listen what happened to me and I tell him of the tub.

He said that is amazing, then says “I lied to you, when I said you kept falling out, the truth is you got up and stepped out!”, he said I thought you were trying to commit suicide that why I had the dreams! 



That same day, when ever I put on the radio, everywhere I looked, every, and I mean every, every, every time I looked at a billboard, a sign, a TV, at anything I saw boats, references to Peter the apostle, storms. Over and over.

I started just laughing, “what’s going on?” 

Over the course of the next week, I spent much of my time in prayer and contemplation, and the Word just flooded in, I would listen to cd’s from John Ortberg, Purpose Driven Life, The Shack, I was listening and reading all I could get my hands on, and God was speaking to me constantly. It didn’t matter what I was listening to, if I was talking about faith with someone in private, or just regarding a particular topic to myself, regardless of the specific topics or chapters I would listen to, I mean I would just turn it on, and they would happen to be talking about the very topic I was interested or talking about that moment, exactly!, praying about or in discussion about. Boats, Peter the Apostle, over and over again.

Crazy fast amount of information, I literally went through ten, fifteen books in a week. Mostly audio books! 



Then my mother says she wants me to go to a men’s meeting on Saturday at her church, now I was watching the children that week, knee deep in the divorce, still trying to rectify somehow, walking on eggshells. So I didn’t want to leave the children with my mother, maybe possibly irritating the wife!

But also by this time I am beginning to suspect, that when my mother tells me to do something, “it may?”, probably was!, somewhat prophetic, and most certainly blessed!!

So I reluctantly agree to go, but when I hear its an all day deal, I said NO WAY!

With a little arguing I again reluctantly, promised! My bargain; if it was good, I would order the cd on their website, and then just listen on my way down to Phoenix. 



My second vision is on the way!, but I’ve got to do some work so I will send this through and tell you more in a bit.

By 

peter colla

“Thank You Jesus, for not only the gift of seeing You, but for the grace of hearing me when I was on my knees, not only that but for the opportunity to be on my knees! Let all my brothers and sister, be so blessed.”

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There Is No Such Thing As A Homosexual

Being created in the image of God, with that presumption, comes an enormous amount of responsibility.

Let us just examine the fact that God is Light, Jesus Himself said in John 8:12; “I am the Light of the world: he that followeth Me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the Light of life.”

Darkness being the absence of light, should be something that we might examine just to understand the substance of that statement.

Take away all light, every fraction, every speckle, even a single distant star, and all you have left is complete darkness. In this “complete” absolute blackness, it doesn’t seem possible to make something darker then the darkness that is produced from absolute dark, as a matter of fact, you can not add dark upon dark to make a darker dark. If this darkness can not add to itself, then one might suppose it has no substance.

But then subsequently the supposition that darkness flee’s from the light; other things, beings, objects that reject God, sin, all these desire to move away from or flee from the light towards darkness.

All the many creations of God, just like the angels for example, make their choice, and subsequently those angels that rejected God, rejected all light, even in themselves, and move away from it. They being spiritual beings and not physical, when all light is removed, or in this case turned away from light, all that is left is darkness.

As creators we can create in this universe, and our mere words can create. I believe it is in this realm that we have an enormous amount of responsibility.

As we have examined in earlier writings, God created everything in this existence with a Spoken Word. I believe it is this one quality that distinguishes us from all of the rest of His creation, making us above and unique, the fact that we can create. Not merely with just the efforts of our hands, but with our very words.

These creations can then have either a positive air to them, being unto creations of light, or things of darkness. In essence we choose whether these words are seekers of the light, being true, good, uplifting, compassionate, giving, healing, and loving, or if they are designed with other intentions, those that lack any of these qualities.

I also believe if we examine this fact; being that we have this unique and godly ability, ultimately there should come with it responsibility and eventually accountability. Jesus Himself said in Matthew 12:36, “But I say unto you, That every idle word that man shall speak, they shall give account thereof in the day of judgement.”

This statement has an air of seriousness to it! A tone of accountability. I guess if the President, or a great leader, would say to an individual; “You will be held accountable for your every word, people would sit up and listen, at least take heart!” How much more should we harken to the maker of the President, the absolute ruler of the universe, the creator of everything.

In this world as well in the next, our words have the ability to not only initiate an effect on the environment around us, but also forever alter this environment, by the permanent addition of either good or bad. If change is made with our words, we could assume that either these words are that of light, or darkness.

I believe that words may have more of an accountable effect on us and our environment, then we may realize. When these words are of a sinful nature, they may be even more of a permanent effect then those of conventional sins produced by many of our actions. The physical actions being the ones most people associate with sin.

It is easy to recognize the effects of sin, with our actions, in the natural. Cause and effect. When someone steal’s from, cheats, abuses, uses, even murders someone else, especially when the victim, as visibly evident to everyone else, has clearly been hurt by the offense, it is not difficult for most rational people to recognize the sin in these actions.

But indirectly when someone speaks against someone else, or hates them, especially with their words or merely in thought, seeing the physical application, or natural effect of this sin in the action is a bit more difficult. Is it because the clear effect of these actions are so vague to the direct view?

I have personal experience I would like to share that might form as an example;

Growing up in the 60’s and 70’s had it’s share of enjoyable childhood privileges, many of which my own children may no longer experience, but of course, some not so pleasurable ones as well.

One in particular, not so pleasurable experience, had to do with the fact that for as long as I could remember, when I would read something, my mind would wonder, to the point where as I finished a page or two of reading, I couldn’t remember what I had just read. This situation was extremely frustrating to me and caused me to shy away from anything that had much to do with reading or writing. This situation continued throughout most of my youth. Teachers didn’t seem to understand this phenomenon, nor did they seem to much care about even considering it, let alone presenting a solution.

This resulted in me often being caught having the appearance of either not paying attention, or daydreaming in class, resulting in a further frustration from myself and the teachers, a further systematic result of finding myself first at the back of the class, both in grades and actual physical placement, and then later eventually my desk might even find itself placed directly next to the teacher, as if this constant singling out could have some kind of miraculous effect on my learning capacity, especially when my back was to the board. I even had on one occasion, I believe in first grade, found myself to have my desk placed out in the hall. I guess for that teacher the thought of not having to deal with difficulties, namely me, superseded her own responsibility she had gladly accepted with her career and contractual choice.

Now I don’t necessarily blame the teachers, well except that first grade one!, and if I could remember her name, I would forever canonize her in the annals of teachers recognition for all to view. In those days ADD; “Attention Defficite Dissorder”, ADHD, Ritoline, video game junkies, even the horrors of massive sugar soda intake, were concepts just beginning to find their way into teacher studies.

I’m not particularly sure how far back, but somewhere along the way, I heard the words; “Your not a good student”, “your not as good as the others”, “bad kid”, or just plain “bad”, or maybe even “stupid” being used in one or more sentences not exactly designed to lift me up, or love this small child. The subsequent image or thought that was associated with those words, those sins, stuck in my mind, developing my own inward image of myself, and ultimately manifesting that image in how I portrayed myself to the world, as well as my ability to perform, just as a result of those few words.

But luckily, or perhaps Godly for me, I had the pleasure of having a teacher by the name of Charles Munn, Frank Borman Junior High, for an eighth grade science class. I’m not sure if he actually witnessed me demonstrating myself in a different way then my reputation had dictated, as much as I believe he was a teacher of either enormous insight, heart, or vision, but most likely all.

All of a sudden I found myself in the counselors office having to take a number of tests including an IQ test, because Mr. Munn said; “this kid is not stupid, he may even be a genius?” Turned out I had an 150+ IQ.

My point is not to toot my own horn, and this information I wasn’t even made aware of until later in that year, but my point is; the minute Mr. Munn started saying this kid is smart, I started believing it myself, and amazingly so did the rest of the teaching staff, and even my fellow students!

They immediately placed me in the most advanced classes, and subjects that seemed to be a challenge, with a boy struggling just to get passing grade weeks before, immediately became someone who other students even asked advice, all of the subjects immediately became something of an ease.

Mr. Munn created with his words a changed life in me! He created confidence, a realization of talent that was surely God given, but until that moment unseen. He delivered good into me. In essence his words made the blind see!

Inject kindness, compassion, love, mercy, and out comes good.

We create with our words, and we are even held to account for every word spoken.

I can not imagine how many lives have been changed either for good or for bad merely by the words that have been spoken at one key moment into a child’s life. How many gangs members that have ended up in prison because of a word of discouragement, or an image of worthlessness that was delivered by some unconcerned parent. I would venture to say, that it would probably be the majority!

Most of peoples lives have been influenced much more by the spoken word into their soul, then any other form of delivery, whether it was action, event, or many other physical forms of sin.

Further examining the children, who are the innocent ones here, they are just starting out, just learning, when that accidental spill occurs and a mother says; “your so clumsy!”, or a small son misses a catch on third base, and the father yells from the stands; “get your head out of your ass!”

A child sees a bauble in a parents room, likes it and takes it to her room, the parent asks in a bit louder, in a more aggressive tone then might have been neccessary, and the child out of fear says; “I don’t know, I didn’t take it.” Mother says; “Your a lier! You dirty little thief!”, forever scaring the child with the image that the very person who conceived her not only considers her a lier and a thief, but also dirty!

A father says to a friend, not concerned his son sits crying in the corner, that his son; “acts like a girl!” A child grows up with the thought his father didn’t want him, maybe didn’t see himself as shown in the eyes of his son, basically the father didn’t see himself in his son, didn’t love him, and the child knew it.

Now if the absence of light is darkness, what is sin? If the absence of any warmth is absolute cold, the absence of any compassion, is absolute rejection, then I would imagine that the absence of good in any act constitutes sin.

If words are produced that have no intent to uplift, encourage, help, love, or benefit the another person, then one would assume they have been produced for darkness.

I am sure this is also, at least in part, what is meant when God said; “the sins of the father can be passed onto the children, for generations to come.” The same things that were said to the father, the mother when they were children, these in turn without thinking blurt out these same insults, resulting in the same images, and ultimately some of the same choices in their children.

We have a tendency to judge each other, and subsequently ourselves based on the actions we engage in.

A person “is a…”, rather then is a person who “happens to have done this or that…”

The world is a cruel judge! A person commits a crime, oh, and by the way gets caught, they can be forever labeled by that crime, at least in word or name. A person “is”; a murderer, a lier, a thief, a backstabber, a murmurer, a child molester, a divorcee, a politician, a….

In the book Les Miserables by Victor Hugo, one of the key characters Fantine, a woman who happen to fall in love with the wrong man, and when she became pregnant, was forced to send her child away and work to support her child from afar, as to not risk others finding she had a child out of marrage, sustain a job, and eventually have a chance to raise the child.

The people who care for her child young Cosette, use the child to extort moneys from her mother. When the secret of the child’s existence gets out she is dismissed from her job, out of desperation for not only herself, but also for her child, for nobody will give her work, she is forced to sell herself into prostitution just to survive.

The world portrayed in the book of pre-revolutionary France, viewed her as “a sinner”, “a whore”, but in fact it was those who were judging her, that were truly sinning, sinning with their words, and their constant sin forced her to take the road she found herself on, as her only choice. It was their words that created a hell on earth, and then those same words condemed her, and inprisoned her. Words!

God said; “love the sinner, hate the sin!”

Thank God, He knows the heart, He knows why we do things, He is the only true Judge, and He has found it in His infinite mercy to forgive anything we may have done, all we have to do is repent, be sorry, wish we could change. He sees why we do things, He knows the pains that hide behind our actions, but also sees the spirit behind every word!

Funny, Jesus never said; you will be held accountable for every action, but “for every word!”

The world would have you believe that certain activities even to the point of activities that are bad for us, such as engaging in sexual activities with multiple partners, or cheating on a spouse, same sex relations, are actually a product of who we are, not something that we choose, something we are born with, something we can not help, they have even gone so far to try to prove a gene for a person who murders, molests children, engages in sexual activity with same sex partners, exists.

A poor child sits on death row, because he had been so beaten and abused his entire life, the very thought of a kind word, a compassionate touch, a gentle smile, has never, even once passed his senses. A man who committed a murder, he is called a murderer.

A woman grows up in a family where work and responsibility have no place in their language, any and all efforts are primarily placed into the tasks that might result in getting as much moneys as possible from any and all sources. When she sees people who work diligently to receives benifits through honest work or action, her own manipulation find its way into her heart, her spirit not only flees from any thought of the other, but she even feels a deep routed haitred for them. That feeling has been apart of her being as long as she can remember and seem’s to also be lining the faces of everyone she not only loves, and trusts, but most of the people she distrusts. She is a selfish woman, sad!

Because your father committed a murder, now your are doomed and destined to do the same, genetically predisposed, and there is nothing you can do about it, so the world says! That is a lie of satan and completely false.

Because a mother spends a lifetime hating those who she believes received more in this life, she teaches her daughter to hate, with not only every word but with the very grimaces of her face. Satan laughs!

We do something so much it becomes second nature, it is easy to say; “maybe it is just the way God created me”, or “if He didn’t want me to be this way, why if He is a loving God would he have made me like this?” Another lie, He didn’t.

We make ourselves the way we are, many times not always completely by our own hand, but certainly molded by the hand of man, or the world which man has moulded around us.

One step further, a young man or woman might say; “I have never been loved by my mother or maybe my father, as a matter of fact I don’t even love me!” Or the young child rests in the bed of her parent, a place of supposed safety and love, yet one night a visiter brings pain, torment and shame! “No the assaillent didn’t seem to even care, as a matter of fact, she was cruel”, or “that drunk of a man even beat me for no reason, while he had his hands on me”. “People always rejected me because I just didn’t conform or fit the standards of others.” “How do you expect me to love men!” or “women have never loved me, how can I possibly love them!”

She might have been a little to tough or heavy, he might have been a little to soft. The only love, or even acceptance they may have ever known, in their entire life, was from one of their friends of the same sex. The friend who understood, who knew them, because they were going through the exact same scenario, the same hell.

Would a loving God want to deny them love?

My answer to them is; “No!!”

A boy or girl who has never known anything but abandonment, pain, hate, and discouragement, could hardly be expected to deliver love, compassion, in a stable environment.

A girl who has only been used, told she is ugly, fat, worthless, would have a hard time recognizing those qualities in themselves even when some young man tries to tell them.

We are all but small children locked up in cages of flesh and bone, ever being filled from the moment of our birth with dark, worldly, poisonous stuff. Building walls around us of darkness in an ever increasingly dark place. More vice in the eyes, more lying, hateful words in the ears, more garbage, chemicals, foul polluted water in our mouths, ever packing sin in and on our bodies, to the point where its so clear for everyone to see, and loath. One layer at a time, one morsel at a mouthful, a dark ungodly idea, another demon, one more bruise, one more unforgiven transgression.

God if I could just have a nicer car, a bigger house, another more loving spouse, more food, more respect, if I could just fill this void inside, maybe another pill, another trip to the mall, a piece of strange.

Your Father wants you to experience all the good, happiness, love, compassion, acceptance, gentleness, light, pleasure, this life has to offer. He wants you to first know; you are not defined by your actions, and no amount of negative actions, no matter how self destructive or selfish, will keep you from His love.

We are children of the Most High! We have the ability anytime we chose to wash ourselves as clean as the purest clear water, as white as the whitest snow. We are to but ask.

The world, the enemy would say we “are”; lier’s, thieve’s, adulterer’s, divorcees, child molesters, loser’s, jerk’s, bitches, rapist’s, ugly, fat, murmurers, worthless, ordinary, an accident, a random spontaneous creation from primordial soup, narsassist’s, lesbian’s, homosexual’s, but I say only we can give our selves those titles. Because if we believe it, and speak it with our mouth we have the ability to create it in ourselves.

Jesus would have all return to the Father that would come, we are all children who happen to sin. And He would forgive all who would reach out and but accept that forgiveness, He puts no limit on it, we do that by ourselves.

We are all children who happen to lie, who happen to steal, who happen to cheat, commit adultery, commit perverse acts, who happen to do, say, and act in a selfish manner, who happen to stuff, who happen to make mistakes, who happen to be less fortunate, who happen to boast, who happen to abuse ourselves and others, who happen to develop feelings for the same sex.

There are no loser’s, there are no murderer’s, there are no divorcees, there are no criminal’s, only those that place that title on themselves and can not let it go.

There is no such thing as a Homosexual.

By Peter Colla

“Father God open my eyes to see the children in each and everyone around me, allow me to look through the layer’s and pieces of sin that have enveloped Your children and made them into the image that stands before me. Let me see and love the sinner, while forgiving and disregarding the sin, in everyone around me, in my enemies, and finally in myself.”

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Water, The Very Essence Of Life

Water

In the natural so is it always demonstrated, as it is in the supernatural.

“Rivers of Life” so did Jesus speak of Himself, the Message, the Word, as He spoke of spreading the good news through the people.

His first miracle as reported by His followers was the turning of water into wine. He took something common, something essential, and converted it into something valuable, pleasurable, something to be consumed, something red.

As it was in the beginning so must it be at the end, one of the last events He also performed was using the wine to symbolize His blood. Wine was involved in His first miracle and at the end in the final supper, wine plays an intricate role. Wine the representation of His blood. He said specifically; “When You drink, think of me.”

Blood is almost completely made up of water, as so is wine, but not quite pure. It has an essence of other things mixed in that make the blood what it needs to be in order for it to give life. A small amount of hemoglobin which is a fascinatingly complex molecule, a carbon based structure with key points of Iron, this molecule has an enormous capacity to bind with oxygen, and delivers life. It is all the other things in the water that give it the ability to perform the various duties we need, or is this perhaps not quite so?

Water has a greater function in the kingdom then I believe we can ever comprehend. Water is used for cleansing, not only the body but also the entire world as in the flood. Water is necessary in almost every vital function in our body. Our body is almost entirely composed of water, and when all water is eliminated as in cremation only a small amount of substance is actually left. We will die of lack of water long before we die of lack of anything else. Water seems to be the key element of life.

Science would tell us that we all come from the oceans, and thus from water, but I believe this world is merely a representation of our body and as we are primarily made up of water, the majority of the earths surface is also either covered with or retains in it water in one form or another.

In my education over seas, one of the areas of studies was alternative medical studies, namely homeopathy.

Homeopathy is a particularly interesting form of medicine, finding its foundations preempting the pharmaceutical medical industry we find ourselves engulfed in today, by at least two or three thousand years. It has been written of in the time of Hippocrates, regarding the ability of “likes curing likes”.

Without getting to much into the philosophical or even into medical physiology, the premise is; that when you significantly dilute compounds, the resulting compounds can be used to cure the problems caused by the original stronger compounds. For example arsenic poisoning is treated and cured by giving the patient compounds that have supposedly extremely slight amounts of arsenic in them.

When I was in europe we had an opportunity to examine not only this process, but also samples of the these products. I had even on occasion the opportunity to receive homeopathic remedies prescribed right along with the regular pharmaceuticals, and I must admit the healing process not only was faster, but often with less side effects and down time.

The process goes something like this; they take the particular poison, compound or substance; arsenic, snake venom, gold, mercury, whatever they happen to want to make into a homeopathic compound, they dissolve it in either pure water or alcohol and then press and sift it to remove solids or impurities.

They then draw out a single drop of the resulting liquid, and place it in a vat, a huge container containing maybe a thousand gallons or so of pure water, an extremely large barrel! This is then thoroughly mixed and a single drop is again drawn out, placed into another vat with water, this process is repeated four to seven times depending on the compound, ending in a final vat of water with what science would say, contains nothing of the original compound, not even a trace.

Yet the resulting water is then drawn out and placed in small vials and distributed to patients who suffer from various particular sicknesses, they take a number of these drops under the tongue, resulting in a cure, and this treatment had been used, with success I might add, for at least the last two thousand years.

I don’t know how it is possible, but when we as students tried drops from the various vials, a person could distinctly taste a flavor or essence of the original compound. Each vial had a different distinct taste!

Arsenic being the one I tried, I could really taste the specific almond like flavor, that is typically found in arsenic poisoning, or at least an after smell in my nose, after tasting the drops, even though I knew that this compound had been diluted to a billionth or maybe even many billionth of its original strength.

But I also know that as you continually make a half of something even a billion times there is still a small piece left, even a trillion times make something a half or a tenth or a hundredth, there is still a little bit of that ever so small amount left.

The study of Homeopathy would say that a sort of energy exchange is passed into the water from the essence of the compound, and no matter how much you dilute it something from the original is passed through the pure water. The pure water has a property about it that sort of draws out some of the essence of what ever is placed in it and disperses it throughout its entirety. thus the significant cleaning ability of water.

Water makes us clean! Water can purify, sounds Godly to me.

Let us suppose that this is true, science today can only suppose to explain the many energies that not only hold the molecules together, and even surround the various atoms, making them independent of others, though they also know vast distances compared to their individual sizes separate the fractions from their other parts in atoms or molecule. (see my blog; https://paulorpeter.wordpress.com/2011/06/02/adam-is-in-everything/)

So if we suppose there is an energy that surrounds and holds these compounds, molecules, and atoms together and makes them into the significant essence they are today, this unmeasurable, unexplainable, and even unfathomable energy, (again sound kind of Godly) which is definitely strong and indestructible, being able to be split but not destroyed, then why is it not conceivable that this powerful energy could have an effect on the surrounding like energies it comes in contact with. Energy can not be destroyed only transferred! Hey Einstein said it not me!

And because we do further suppose that this energy can not be destroyed, it can only be transferred as science would teach us. Energies of such strength and significance that even just splitting them releases forces that can topple cities as demonstrated at Hiroshima. These yet unknown, unmeasurable, unseen, unfelt, only believed to be real by the faith of the observer energies… hmm Godly? These energies that clearly demonstrate some kind of interaction as seen in homeopathy, well this raises all kinds of questions.

If all of this is true, and I have no reason to believe otherwise, then one other fact is true; Jesus’s blood was shed, his side was pierced and water gushed out. This is fact it was documented and nobody denies this event took place.

What is also fact is that at the moment of His death it is recorded that a great storm irrupted, to the degree where even the many Roman onlookers had to comment; “Surely this was the Son of God”, an earth quake that shook the land, and split the great jewish temple, ripped the veil, and a rain drenched the land.

But even if it didn’t rain we know he was beaten almost unrecognizable, documented! A lot of blood. You would suppose that the area where whipping occur would have to be washed, eventually!

Any rain or water would mix with his blood, if but a few drops, but all accounts tell us there was a great deal of blood and a great deal of liquid that ushered forth from His side. This in turn could flow over the land or soak into the ground, not destroyed only move, it would find its way into the water table eventually, which in turn would find its way to the stream, later rivers and eventually the ocean, where it would be diluted with all of the water of the world.

I guess my point is if a single drop of arsenic can be diluted in a thousand gallon barrel of water, a drop taken from that one, and placed in another vat, over and over again, retaining enough of the essence of the original to heal the person of his infirmity, then I guess it is not inconceivable to believe that the essence of Jesus’s blood, the Creator of the entire universe, the healer of all, resides in each and every drop of water we may drink.

“And He said take this cup and drink, for this is the cup symbolizing my blood, take it and think of me”

Amphorae

I love my children so much, how great is this God of ours who gives so freely and provides love that just flows from His heart. One night I was praying and an image formed in my mind as clear as the noon day light.

Yes my sweet friend I to have had so many visions I could hardly record them, but this one in particular was of a large clay vessel that was filled with a liquid.

This liquid shown with almost a luminescent white light like the purest brightest white milk or the essence of the white sun itself. The jar or vessel that contained it was one of those old Greek olive oil containers, I can’t remember exactly what it was called, but I think it was a amphora? Or something like that, any way as this amphora filled to the brim, it tips and spills over onto its side, spreading over the whole scene!

As the liquid spreads over the flat dark surface, it forms a sort of pool area spreading with ease over the surface. I can clearly see speckles of light shining from within the liquid, a sort of sparkles’ and then dissipates softly like the remnant of a firework! Sparklers fading from your vision like the traces left in a dark night as the bright light moves through space, so softly it fades slowly away.

God spoke to me; “This is how my love is in you!” “And so is it’s affect on the world around you!” “I have one thing you are to do; Love!”

I know how to love, and it seems to have has been held from me for so long, but maybe now that I think of it, by myself!

I have walked in the wilderness, but He has promised that if I follow Him in everything and every way, I will have it back in the portion that which I have lost, multiplied, with interest, as promised!

And He keeps all of His promises!

By Peter Colla

“Dear Lord Jesus help me to know Your love and in turn show Your love to each and every person I meet, especially those who hurt me or hate me. As all creation is of You, so is everyone around me, it is not the creation that hates, but the lack of love that I observe that has persecuted me. Open my eyes to this truth and my heart, let the love flow as waters of life from my heart.”

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Lion or Lamb? A Vision

I see a man watching in anticipation, clothed in simple garb, yet there is a military purpose to what he is doing, and even what he is wearing. Leather chest gear crested with military adornments, strongly tattered and worn this remnant it rests comfortably on his frame, worn by use, not gaudy or pomp in any way, a simple uniform yet one of rank. All the ornaments of war either hang on his strong back or stand in ready stead at his feet. The tassels of rank are as unkempt as his seemingly un-interest in them. Our aging warrior, whose years are not shown by the strength exhibited in his shoulders, which clearly have carried many burdens through the years, looks on in quiet anticipation.

He wears his constant smile from ear to ear, yet as he smiles, eyes remain glued on every individual that passes by, scanning the ever passing crowd for people of marked recognition, yet at the same time his ever attentive ear is also turned to the One who stands next to him. Peter listens with intensity as if his very breath rests on every word spoken from the Companion to his right. Because it does!

Clothed in white linen, brighter then the brightest Sun, Peter’s Companion speaks softly into his ear, gently suggesting who and which is to be pulled momentarily out of the procession. The marching flow passes within feet of our two observers, many hardly noticing Peter and his Holy Companion as they pass, but the angels notice, for around the Companion is an area of respect shining out of His Being like a blast of white hot furnace, stronger then the whitest sun and purer then hottest fire. As the flying angels whisk to and fro beyond, they seem never to quite touch the edge of the searing light, and certainly never penetrate, ever eager to get near and then turning at the last moment out of fearful respect.

There are others dressed in similar military garb as well, alike in design to Peter’s yet of obvious lesser rank, these individuals are running back and forth from Peter to touch the flowing group. One might think that Peter is signaling which in the procession is to be selected, but upon closer examination it is clear that the One in White is making all of the decisions. Clear if by no other impression then the sheer intensity of the radiant light surrounding Him and centering within all that moves or proceeds.

Racing back and forth are these foot soldiers, these officer’s running to the procession and gently pulling people out of the flowing army and directing them back to Peter. A couple of these foot soldiers are men, some women, and some even children, each running and grabbing a directed person from the marching horde and then directing them back to the waiting Companions. Some of people selected are also being directed by angels themselves, and some people just step out on their own by some inaudible nudge.

These people each step up one by one and hold out their hand, many not even fathoming what they hope to receive, or the significance of the mustard seed they are about to touch. If one looks hard at the people standing before Peter and Jesus, one might just make out the image of war garb resting on each of these waiting people, it rests on them like a shadow or a gentle cloud, just beyond a sense of awareness or physicality.

Peter places a coin in their hand, and reads a Word. The coin shines bright, but it remains but a fraction of the light that is Jesus standing next him. For some the Lion faces up, and others the lamb. Immediately the military garb that rested on their body takes physical form, along with it an officer’s rank, which materializes on their shoulders. Some are Captain’s, some are Sergeants, some Major’s, some even General’s, all are commissioned into some kind of rank, yet none of these ranks are given by Peter, but the Companion who looks on. Some of the new officer’s begin running back and forth to collect further candidates, but most take their place back in the marching lines.

With every commissioning, Jesus gently nods signifying His endorsement. A physical transformation takes place in each of our new young commissioned officers, and immediately the stature of rank envelopes their bodies, straightening to attention as they personify the advancement that was theirs all along, just waiting for it’s realization. There is a physical realization to the spiritual intuition!

Many coins are given, few of varied colors of metal, and of various reflective response. The light reflected by the coins permeates and intensifies in each of these people, stronger in some body parts then others, as they take them in their hand. Some men their hearts glow, some women their feet become bright as diamonds, other men a power of light and brightness radiates from their eyes like the streams of sunlight, women gain strength as pulsating power crosses their backs preparing them for burdens that would have crippled Samson, men gain strength in arm, women clarity of eye, powerful swords of light and truth glow with white hot intensity from their belts, shields of power rest against strong, powerful backs, power and knowledge is manifested to take up this physical weapon for God Himself, generals get up from their bed, take up their mats with incredible ease of limb and march with thunder, minds glow with hidden truth for delivery to all areas of the globe, healers are empowered, teachers realize wisdom, preachers gain confidence, evangelist receive heart, missionaries grow in physical stature, fathers, mothers, brothers, servants, all gain… they become leaders.

Each in their turn takes their coin and places it in their pouch, or pocket, places it around their neck resting proudly agaist their chest, we finding it multiplying as they put it away, all in proportion to each his calling; “to commission others”. They all have been granted knowledge to whom they will in turn give a commission.

They then step back onto their path and in some miraculous method not a step is lost, changed, or the direction varied. The procession flows on as if nothing has changed, probably because nothing has changed, but strength has clearly been added.

I see over the entire world many warriors fighting battles, reaching in their pockets, not looking for a weapon, but to feel a tangible symbol of God’s love. They hold the Lion and imagine His roar, touch the Lamb and experience a soft moving of His heart. Not necessary for advancement of rank, not the gift itself, but merely a token of remembrance that this moment event happened, the day of commissioning! Cool, and strong, something real, created by the shear power of God’s spoken Word. A physical manifestation of softly uttered faith.

A Medal of Honor, given, not bought, paid for with fire, with death, death to self. A Holy commissioning in His army, carrying somewhat of the same sense as a dog-tag worn by a soldier, representing an oath, showing the heart of he who carries it, but not being the oath or heart itself.

Given not bought… Given by Him.

By Peter Colla

“Thank You Lord Jesus for all Your many gifts You have given me in this life. As I strive with each step in Your Army sword in hand, I praise You for the armament that You have entrusted to me. I pledge my oath, as service in Your Army, to follow You, Your orders, Your post, Your will in my life and the path You have put me on. Thank You for this tangible token; and I pray that You will bring to my remembrance anything I may need, each time I reach for this medallion in my pocket.”

To learn more about the medallion and commissioning, please go to: My Legacy – http://www.stretcherbearers.com/LifeLetters/Letter030.html

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“Warriors, Come Out And Play”

“And Jesus asked him saying, what is thy name? And he said Legion; because many devils were entered into him.” Mark 5:9

Accident or example, why this particular possessed man did Jesus ask? It is clearly documented that Jesus cast out demons in many people. Even the pharisees admitted it with their own accusations, when they accused Him of casting out demons in the name of demons, as in Matthew 12:24.

But why was this particular man commented on, noted and described, not only in one, but two Gospels? Was it perhaps to teach? God doesn’t just teach with a single action, but with His entire creation, enveloped in every documented event, there is teaching within a teaching, within a teaching, within an entire philosophy. Is that not so God? Where can we not look in His entire creation, and ever finding more examples of His beautiful creation, evidence of teaching, as we peal back the layers, like a majestic onion.

No the demon just didn’t give a single name or even many, Jesus new this, He wanted the demon to reveal important information about the structure and even the makeup of our enemy. He solicited out all the information He wanted known, like interrogating a filthy spy, He got everything with a single question.

The demon responded “Legion”. Not braggingly, almost as if he had the information was ripped from its mouth. “How silly”, our Lord must have thought, when He considered these creatures that tormented His children. How foolish their plans must appeared to Him. What did they think, send a entire legion into this poor soul and perhaps make Jesus seem foolish trying in vane to exorcise them?

Of course He knew their names, He recognized their foul stench coming down the path a mile away. He created them, He knew them very well, but we didn’t!

In that one statement the devil’s man gave more information away out of its own mouth, then might have been needed to be reveled by Jesus Himself. Why would Jesus even have to dirty His own mouth by explaining the structure and attack mode of the enemy, when He could have one of the devil’s own spill the beans for Him.

Oh there must have been an angry devil that night, and probably a reckoning paid when the devil found out how one of his underlings spilled the beans with it’s big mouth.

Anybody remotely interested in learning about the structure or makeup of the enemy merely has to examine the word Legion, and the picture that word paints; organization, rank, a particular form of attack, strategies associated with it, weapons used, the training and intelligence the participants held, along with the strengths and weaknesses presented with such a military type organization, all find their way to the canvas layer by layer, brushstroke by masterful brushstroke .

Lets examine for a moment just the structure.

The Roman Army was a highly organized very structured ranking of soldier all methodically grouped for the purpose of following the instructions and eventual wishes of the supreme commander, usually the emperor. A ruthless horde that was bent on one goal, to bring under servitude all people who stood before their supreme leader.

The smallest group of soldiers eight or so, consisting of the least trained, lowest ranked individuals was called a “Conturbenium”, and could be perhaps compared to a small platoon. Ten of these small groups would be banded together, this larger collection was called a “Century”, because it held approximately 100 men, when you counted the support troops and standard bearer. These men fell under the leadership of one officer a “Centurion”, or a captain.

Six Centuries together formed a “Cohort”, then ten cohorts would be combined to form a “Legion”, the basic military unit! This great group of approximately 6,000 men, and was all under the command of few Tribunes, high ranking officials, perhaps like majors, one or two Prefects, or a single Legatus, all under a General, the Proconsul and eventually the Emperor.

The army was typically deployed in a three tear linear system of structure attack. the first group, “the first in!”, where called the “Miles”, these were fatigue workers, they had other names but most significant was “Gregarius”, which translated; Herd Animal. Represented by the least trained, most disposable, and least effective individuals.

The second tear was comprised of greater skilled, better trained soldiers, these soldiers, received greater equipment, support, backing of the army itself, power.

The third group was reserved for the veterans, those with the greatest experience, fighting skill, strength, ability to problem solve, these men were highly favored by the commanding officers, they were the ones that received any spoils of the battle if a spoil was received, but with great reward came great responsibility. If a battle was lost often the blame was placed on these, they were the example made, it was their fault. Of course the leadership, would never take responsibility!

We can learn an enormous amount of information by studying the enemy.

The supernatural is always represented in the natural.

If we are going to battle the enemy, we should strive to understand him, and one way to do this, is to understand the structure of their deployment.

First of all the enemies ranks are divided into organized groups, of which the smallest are deployed into small groups of likewise educated, trained, and ill equipped entities. These, which are considered almost live stock like, don’t think for themselves, only react, they are stupid and prone to making dumb mistakes, they have explosive tempers and at any sign or feel of fear, will go running.

Like the Roman army, and even as seen in the natural, the creatures that have the least abilities, also possess the least intelligence, they have the least adaptive skills, and must join forces with large numbers to have an effect on greater skilled opponents.They Attack in groups, so unless their numbers are great, they will only pester and never attack. Herd animals!

I would equate these with demonic irritations, the kinds that attach themselves on a host or in a particular area, and pester, tempt, oppress, or sicken. These are the kinds that inflict chronic pain or irritation to individuals, maybe even addictions, these are the stupid little ones that do nothing but follow you around and nibble on your ankle all day long. These are the ankle biters!

Spot these cowards, and they are likely to take off merely because of being spotted. Just speaking out loud that you are aware of their mischievous dark nature, may be enough for them to go running for the hills. It probably wouldn’t hurt to command after them, as they are running; “Don’t come back, I’ll line all of you and your buddies and give you a real Jesus beating!”

Some people will read a scripture such as mentioned above, and might assume to themselves; “What good would it do to cast them out, pray them out, attempt to command them out, if there is thousands of them, or as spoken in another scripture, to be replaced by a new group that may have more numbers, or stronger members?” The enemy would deceive us and have us believe that they are stronger then we might think. Remember like the animals, they were created to serve God and likewise us.

A second fact one might observe from studying the Roman structure is that it is a finite number, the ranks are numbered! There is just so many troops to go around. Satan can not afford to waste his best troops and his strongest, most skilled soldiers, on battles that can’t be won.

He only has so many Centurion’s to go around and needs those kinds of skilled and equipped officers to do the real big stuff, like inflicting an air of satanism or godlessness on important institutions where the battles can have a broader effect on his over all cause.

These guys might be better used to influence universities, large business, perpetrators of heinous crimes, news, politicians, judges, drug lords, porn sites, used car salesmen, areas of town where crime is so thick you can cut it with a knife. These dogs may not be as apt to run just because of discovery, they will just lie low and hide waiting for the heat to settle down. These might even have the boldness to manifest, voicing their own loud ramblings as a means to intimidate. But being the energy hogs they are, this desperate move would surely be a sign that they truly fear being bound and cast out, weighing the shame and persecution they would surely face from their superiors makes these final steps almost an act of mad desperation.

Jesus Himself made reference to “some that can only be cast out by the use of prayer and fasting.”

Surely demons bound in the “Name of of Jesus” carried out by authority not only given by the Holy Spirit, but granted by The Father Himself!, would find themselves in a pickle that might keep them bound for the rest of eternity. How could such an enemy ever bound in this way ever become free. The absolute shame and ridicule they must then endure for being taken out, must drive them well past the edge of absolute madness.

These higher ranked officers would command an arsenal of lessor soldiers, as is demonstrated in the ranks of the Romans. Possibly Centurion level. Considering their position, rank and importance, they would be very difficult to enter into in a one on one battle, they were pompous and arrogant, not necessarily because of their skill, but because of the many under their command, being that they surround themselves with ten’s of lesser soldiers. But this fact should no way deter a person from praying for a city or larger entity that is under siege.

When a Centurion was under attack he would have to keep his troops close for the protection of his own skin, many of the small skirmishes that sit on the fringe or even the larger battle itself could be eventually lost because having to allocate his foot soldiers back to protect himself. The soldiers hunker down into a protective mode. (discussed later in methods and attack strategies of Legion’s)

Larger and more powerful are the officers that rule entire cities, making a particular city bend to a certain kind of sin such as; New York which caters to greed, Los Angeles the spirit of the media, molech, Los Vegas gambling, New Orleans witchcraft, Miami vanity, San Francisco homosexuality, the list goes on and on. If you sit quiet and just listen to the subtle whispers in your ear you can hear the specific temptation in each and every city.

For years I could almost see the dark shadow that loomed over Phoenix as I would drive down from the mountains into the city, a spirit of divorce, maybe getting a glance of the legion that rests over the city.

This would be a perfect post for a Legionnaire such as a Tribunus or even a Praefectus, commanding thousands of lesser foot soldiers. The problem with trying to confront these cowards is they are often nowhere near the actual battle or insurrection they are leading. Often as a people who have a tendency to concentrate on what we can see, smell, touch, or taste, taking the battle, the prayers, the rebukes to someplace completely removed from the visible place of attack, seems like somewhat of a waste of time. Rebuking and binding the demon causing the infidelity results in binding one foot soldier, just to be replaced by another in the horde. Not to mention, its hard to attack an officer who is hiding in the forest, watching his soldiers doing all the fighting in the valley below.

Again this should in no way deter us from praying, fasting, entering in worship on behalf, supplicating continually for the delivery of an entire city, a country for that matter. Our constant bombardment of arrows, our continual pressing of their lines from all angles, the constant threat on those cowering creatures hiding like rats in the dark bush, the gentle requests of His children and the subsequent delivery of Godly angelic retributions can without a doubt eventually topple even the greatest demonic horde.

Then there are spirits that rule entire regions or countries, these cruel gluttons are not satisfied with mere sins perpetrated by individuals, but seek a nationwide move of cruelty and carnage, such as seen when one political group tries to commit genocide against another, nationwide pestilence, famine, war.

There are even higher ranking demons who have control over major industries such as the insurance industry. Their ultimate goal is not mere misery and torment, abuse or greed, but their ultimate goal is total control. The insurance industry wants to control every decision regarding our health. Their eventual goal to make us all slaves of pharmaceuticals, and basically slaves to them, where every person must bow down and ask them for permission to even take an aspirin.

The transportation industry being controlled by oil demon, the monetary exchange being controlled by the banks, food industry, communications, information, schools and education, government, military, even the very words we may say to our children. All areas of control where a few extremely powerful entities are attempting to seize total control.

These blatant monsters have even gotten so large and powerful in pride because of their swollen ranks, from all the garbage we inflicted through our own greeds, the feast we have freely given by buying into their particular indulgence of sin, of which they happen to feed on, that they don’t even fear discovery any longer, as a matter of fact they turn their noses up to discovery, maybe even promote it, so confident they have become. The Prince of Persia as spoken of in Daniel, is not the good, glamorous, or honorable character that Hollywood would have us believe, he is a demon of enormous power, because he commands maybe even many legions.

Gregarius, Discens (Trainees), Legionnaires of various ranks; Sesquiplicarius, Duplicarius, Triplicarius, Centurions, Tribunes, Praefects, Legatus, all the way up to the Generals even the Emperor himself, they were all men, the main difference was not personal strength or even skill, but how many soldiers they commanded.

So is it in the supernatural, as it was in the natural two thousand years ago, the Roman soldier was feared over the entire civilized world. Even the simplest foot soldier could bring on horrendous assaults against untrained and unarmed civilians. The officers received the greatest fear because of the many they commanded.

Again Hollywood has portrayed the greatest of demon as being gigantic indestructible entities where us mere mortals have no chance of defeating without the intervention of some kind of fictitious superhero. This is the furthest thing from the truth. They are only powerful in the way they can move and manipulate in the supernatural, some can fly, some are fast, some are very, very strong, but none have gained any power on their own, all they have was originally them by the Father, they are incapable of getting anything, creating anything on their own.

Of course even the weakest of demons can bring on a devastating attack against an unarmed opponent, because they attack us in a way that we ill equipped and uneducated, but thank Jesus we have been given all the armament we need to defend against any attack.

God has promised in Ephesians 6; our loins are Girded, our feet are Shod, we have a Breastplate, a Shield, a Helmet and finally a Sword. We have been given all we need to enter into battle with these, we merely need to be trained for successful battle.

Take up your weapon, step up to fight, but know your enemy is much more frightened of you then you are of it. Not only that but fear comes from the enemy, so we not fear at all!

To be continued…

By Peter Colla

“Lord Jesus, thank you for the opportunity, no the honor to serve in your End Time’s Army. Open my eyes to the wisdom and skill to take it with success to the enemy. Hand me your sword, and strengthen my arm for quick and decisive Holy retribution.”

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“Warriors, Come Out And Play”

“And Jesus asked him saying, what is thy name? And he said Legion; because many devils were entered into him.” Mark 5:9

Accident or example, why this particular possessed man did Jesus ask? It is clearly documented that Jesus cast out demons in many people. Even the pharisees admitted it with their own accusations, when they accused Him of casting out demons in the name of demons, as in Matthew 12:24.

But why was this particular man commented on, noted and described, not only in one, but two Gospels? Was it perhaps to teach? God doesn’t just teach with a single action, but with His entire creation, enveloped in every documented event, there is teaching within a teaching, within a teaching, within an entire philosophy. Is that not so God? Where can we not look in His entire creation, and ever finding more examples of His beautiful creation, evidence of teaching, as we peal back the layers, like a majestic onion.

No the demon just didn’t give a single name or even many, Jesus new this, He wanted the demon to reveal important information about the structure and even the makeup of our enemy. He solicited out all the information He wanted known, like interrogating a filthy spy, He got everything with a single question.

The demon responded “Legion”. Not braggingly, almost as if he had the information was ripped from its mouth. “How silly”, our Lord must have thought, when He considered these creatures that tormented His children. How foolish their plans must appeared to Him. What did they think, send a entire legion into this poor soul and perhaps make Jesus seem foolish trying in vane to exorcise them?

Of course He knew their names, He recognized their foul stench coming down the path a mile away. He created them, He knew them very well, but we didn’t!

In that one statement the devil’s man gave more information away out of its own mouth, then might have been needed to be reveled by Jesus Himself. Why would Jesus even have to dirty His own mouth by explaining the structure and attack mode of the enemy, when He could have one of the devil’s own spill the beans for Him.

Oh there must have been an angry devil that night, and probably a reckoning paid when the devil found out how one of his underlings spilled the beans with it’s big mouth.

Anybody remotely interested in learning about the structure or makeup of the enemy merely has to examine the word Legion, and the picture that word paints; organization, rank, a particular form of attack, strategies associated with it, weapons used, the training and intelligence the participants held, along with the strengths and weaknesses presented with such a military type organization, all find their way to the canvas layer by layer, brushstroke by masterful brushstroke .

Lets examine for a moment just the structure.

The Roman Army was a highly organized very structured ranking of soldier all methodically grouped for the purpose of following the instructions and eventual wishes of the supreme commander, usually the emperor. A ruthless horde that was bent on one goal, to bring under servitude all people who stood before their supreme leader.

The smallest group of soldiers eight or so, consisting of the least trained, lowest ranked individuals was called a “Conturbenium”, and could be perhaps compared to a small platoon. Ten of these small groups would be banded together, this larger collection was called a “Century”, because it held approximately 100 men, when you counted the support troops and standard bearer. These men fell under the leadership of one officer a “Centurion”, or a captain.

Six Centuries together formed a “Cohort”, then ten cohorts would be combined to form a “Legion”, the basic military unit! This great group of approximately 6,000 men, and was all under the command of few Tribunes, high ranking officials, perhaps like majors, one or two Prefects, or a single Legatus, all under a General, the Proconsul and eventually the Emperor.

The army was typically deployed in a three tear linear system of structure attack. the first group, “the first in!”, where called the “Miles”, these were fatigue workers, they had other names but most significant was “Gregarius”, which translated; Herd Animal. Represented by the least trained, most disposable, and least effective individuals.

The second tear was comprised of greater skilled, better trained soldiers, these soldiers, received greater equipment, support, backing of the army itself, power.

The third group was reserved for the veterans, those with the greatest experience, fighting skill, strength, ability to problem solve, these men were highly favored by the commanding officers, they were the ones that received any spoils of the battle if a spoil was received, but with great reward came great responsibility. If a battle was lost often the blame was placed on these, they were the example made, it was their fault. Of course the leadership, would never take responsibility!

We can learn an enormous amount of information by studying the enemy.

The supernatural is always represented in the natural.

If we are going to battle the enemy, we should strive to understand him, and one way to do this, is to understand the structure of their deployment.

First of all the enemies ranks are divided into organized groups, of which the smallest are deployed into small groups of likewise educated, trained, and ill equipped entities. These, which are considered almost live stock like, don’t think for themselves, only react, they are stupid and prone to making dumb mistakes, they have explosive tempers and at any sign or feel of fear, will go running.

Like the Roman army, and even as seen in the natural, the creatures that have the least abilities, also possess the least intelligence, they have the least adaptive skills, and must join forces with large numbers to have an effect on greater skilled opponents.They Attack in groups, so unless their numbers are great, they will only pester and never attack. Herd animals!

I would equate these with demonic irritations, the kinds that attach themselves on a host or in a particular area, and pester, tempt, oppress, or sicken. These are the kinds that inflict chronic pain or irritation to individuals, maybe even addictions, these are the stupid little ones that do nothing but follow you around and nibble on your ankle all day long. These are the ankle biters!

Spot these cowards, and they are likely to take off merely because of being spotted. Just speaking out loud that you are aware of their mischievous dark nature, may be enough for them to go running for the hills. It probably wouldn’t hurt to command after them, as they are running; “Don’t come back, I’ll line all of you and your buddies and give you a real Jesus beating!”

Some people will read a scripture such as mentioned above, and might assume to themselves; “What good would it do to cast them out, pray them out, attempt to command them out, if there is thousands of them, or as spoken in another scripture, to be replaced by a new group that may have more numbers, or stronger members?” The enemy would deceive us and have us believe that they are stronger then we might think. Remember like the animals, they were created to serve God and likewise us.

A second fact one might observe from studying the Roman structure is that it is a finite number, the ranks are numbered! There is just so many troops to go around. Satan can not afford to waste his best troops and his strongest, most skilled soldiers, on battles that can’t be won.

He only has so many Centurion’s to go around and needs those kinds of skilled and equipped officers to do the real big stuff, like inflicting an air of satanism or godlessness on important institutions where the battles can have a broader effect on his over all cause.

These guys might be better used to influence universities, large business, perpetrators of heinous crimes, news, politicians, judges, drug lords, porn sites, used car salesmen, areas of town where crime is so thick you can cut it with a knife. These dogs may not be as apt to run just because of discovery, they will just lie low and hide waiting for the heat to settle down. These might even have the boldness to manifest, voicing their own loud ramblings as a means to intimidate. But being the energy hogs they are, this desperate move would surely be a sign that they truly fear being bound and cast out, weighing the shame and persecution they would surely face from their superiors makes these final steps almost an act of mad desperation.

Jesus Himself made reference to “some that can only be cast out by the use of prayer and fasting.”

Surely demons bound in the “Name of of Jesus” carried out by authority not only given by the Holy Spirit, but granted by The Father Himself!, would find themselves in a pickle that might keep them bound for the rest of eternity. How could such an enemy ever bound in this way ever become free. The absolute shame and ridicule they must then endure for being taken out, must drive them well past the edge of absolute madness.

These higher ranked officers would command an arsenal of lessor soldiers, as is demonstrated in the ranks of the Romans. Possibly Centurion level. Considering their position, rank and importance, they would be very difficult to enter into in a one on one battle, they were pompous and arrogant, not necessarily because of their skill, but because of the many under their command, being that they surround themselves with ten’s of lesser soldiers. But this fact should no way deter a person from praying for a city or larger entity that is under siege.

When a Centurion was under attack he would have to keep his troops close for the protection of his own skin, many of the small skirmishes that sit on the fringe or even the larger battle itself could be eventually lost because having to allocate his foot soldiers back to protect himself. The soldiers hunker down into a protective mode. (discussed later in methods and attack strategies of Legion’s)

Larger and more powerful are the officers that rule entire cities, making a particular city bend to a certain kind of sin such as; New York which caters to greed, Los Angeles the spirit of the media, molech, Los Vegas gambling, New Orleans witchcraft, Miami vanity, San Francisco homosexuality, the list goes on and on. If you sit quiet and just listen to the subtle whispers in your ear you can hear the specific temptation in each and every city.

For years I could almost see the dark shadow that loomed over Phoenix as I would drive down from the mountains into the city, a spirit of divorce, maybe getting a glance of the legion that rests over the city.

This would be a perfect post for a Legionnaire such as a Tribunus or even a Praefectus, commanding thousands of lesser foot soldiers. The problem with trying to confront these cowards is they are often nowhere near the actual battle or insurrection they are leading. Often as a people who have a tendency to concentrate on what we can see, smell, touch, or taste, taking the battle, the prayers, the rebukes to someplace completely removed from the visible place of attack, seems like somewhat of a waste of time. Rebuking and binding the demon causing the infidelity results in binding one foot soldier, just to be replaced by another in the horde. Not to mention, its hard to attack an officer who is hiding in the forest, watching his soldiers doing all the fighting in the valley below.

Again this should in no way deter us from praying, fasting, entering in worship on behalf, supplicating continually for the delivery of an entire city, a country for that matter. Our constant bombardment of arrows, our continual pressing of their lines from all angles, the constant threat on those cowering creatures hiding like rats in the dark bush, the gentle requests of His children and the subsequent delivery of Godly angelic retributions can without a doubt eventually topple even the greatest demonic horde.

Then there are spirits that rule entire regions or countries, these cruel gluttons are not satisfied with mere sins perpetrated by individuals, but seek a nationwide move of cruelty and carnage, such as seen when one political group tries to commit genocide against another, nationwide pestilence, famine, war.

There are even higher ranking demons who have control over major industries such as the insurance industry. Their ultimate goal is not mere misery and torment, abuse or greed, but their ultimate goal is total control. The insurance industry wants to control every decision regarding our health. Their eventual goal to make us all slaves of pharmaceuticals, and basically slaves to them, where every person must bow down and ask them for permission to even take an aspirin.

The transportation industry being controlled by oil demon, the monetary exchange being controlled by the banks, food industry, communications, information, schools and education, government, military, even the very words we may say to our children. All areas of control where a few extremely powerful entities are attempting to seize total control.

These blatant monsters have even gotten so large and powerful in pride because of their swollen ranks, from all the garbage we inflicted through our own greeds, the feast we have freely given by buying into their particular indulgence of sin, of which they happen to feed on, that they don’t even fear discovery any longer, as a matter of fact they turn their noses up to discovery, maybe even promote it, so confident they have become. The Prince of Persia as spoken of in Daniel, is not the good, glamorous, or honorable character that Hollywood would have us believe, he is a demon of enormous power, because he commands maybe even many legions.

Gregarius, Discens (Trainees), Legionnaires of various ranks; Sesquiplicarius, Duplicarius, Triplicarius, Centurions, Tribunes, Praefects, Legatus, all the way up to the Generals even the Emperor himself, they were all men, the main difference was not personal strength or even skill, but how many soldiers they commanded.

So is it in the supernatural, as it was in the natural two thousand years ago, the Roman soldier was feared over the entire civilized world. Even the simplest foot soldier could bring on horrendous assaults against untrained and unarmed civilians. The officers received the greatest fear because of the many they commanded.

Again Hollywood has portrayed the greatest of demon as being gigantic indestructible entities where us mere mortals have no chance of defeating without the intervention of some kind of fictitious superhero. This is the furthest thing from the truth. They are only powerful in the way they can move and manipulate in the supernatural, some can fly, some are fast, some are very, very strong, but none have gained any power on their own, all they have was originally them by the Father, they are incapable of getting anything, creating anything on their own.

Of course even the weakest of demons can bring on a devastating attack against an unarmed opponent, because they attack us in a way that we ill equipped and uneducated, but thank Jesus we have been given all the armament we need to defend against any attack.

God has promised in Ephesians 6; our loins are Girded, our feet are Shod, we have a Breastplate, a Shield, a Helmet and finally a Sword. We have been given all we need to enter into battle with these, we merely need to be trained for successful battle.

Take up your weapon, step up to fight, but know your enemy is much more frightened of you then you are of it. Not only that but fear comes from the enemy, so we not fear at all!

To be continued…

By Peter Colla

“Lord Jesus, thank you for the opportunity, no the honor to serve in your End Time’s Army. Open my eyes to the wisdom and skill to take it with success to the enemy. Hand me your sword, and strengthen my arm for quick and decisive Holy retribution.”

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