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Illawarra District, Australia, November
19, 2007.
The Damascus Scribe (Sananda).
Received by George Barnard.
The Scribe: “I Am complete in that I have personality and
identity in one. I Am complete in that I have in mind, and clearly so,
all of My past and all of My future, of events surrounding Me, and of
My labors of ancient times, and of eons still to come, to help attain
progress for all in the local universe of My dedication.
“That is to say, My decidedly human friend, that I do not rest
on My laurels of past ‘grantings,’ but that I happily, energetically,
yet humbly labor away on each new project, knowing the end result of
tomorrow, next year, next century, in great and wonderful detail.
“Such knowledge is not often given to you, or indeed to any other
mortal, for to truly believe that all, will always, and in all ways
be well, would perhaps rob you of your motivation, when your occasionally
wavering, but returning sublime trust must rather marshall you on. What
about the roses, you ask? (see note.)
“In winter time he enriches the growing beds with mulch. In early
spring he checks the fertility of the soil, its depth, moisture, and
drainage. And as the first new leaves spring from bare stalks, his sharp
eyes search for caterpillars that may devastate the growth, and soon
he will check for beatles that may consume the flower buds from within.
“Soon, very soon, all up and down the street will have his blooms
in their vases, and few of his gorgeous flowers are discarded.
“You, My beloved mortal friends, are not complete. You are the
furthest from complete, and the caterpillar of selfishness may retard
your soul growth, and the beatle of hatred may at times eat away at
your very heart, and yet this is where the analogy ends, for our universes
are designed to be the absolute pinnacle of efficiency, and all past,
present and future requirements are seen to.
“No effort is wasted, no soul is lost, no personality discarded,
no ‘human rose bud,’ not even the late autumn one, browned
by early frost of its own unkindness, wilted by cold dry wind of its
greed, consumed by the beatle of its hate, will ever be discarded but
for it not awakening to say, ‘I know better now! I will do better
now!’
“He is the Creator Father Almighty, who in His infinite wisdom
created this universe of universes to be the most efficient organization
of all time and eternity, and where all His myriad creatures that are
ranked above you human rosebuds, have the Father’s Love to pass
onto you, as have I, for you all.
“I Am the Damascus Scribe. I Am Sananda.”
Note: I was shown a garden I kept
long ago, with huge, fragrant, burgundy colored roses that flowered
for almost eight months of the year.
© 11:11 Progress Group.
You lit a Flame, and it will become a Raging Fire—ABC-22.
11:11
Angels
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