Do not expose unsure or vain thoughts, which oblige you not to think to me, the loved father, who loves you with greatness and light.
Above all love
A hidden inheritance
- of Francesco Arista and Antonella Molica
Argument
- → I did all this for you.
- → Dedicating oneself to me, looking out to love, is the goal, the achievement that every man is deluding to find where it does not exist, in dark visible, in what is absolute void, incomprehension, inconsistency, ignorance.
- → My children who are not yet completely in the light, who see little light, climb, wander around the world in search of light, love, are in search of themselves, of me, of the meaning of their existence and life.
- → What is relative, the world is temporary, deceptive, intentionally false, it must be understood for what it is, it must not be loved, desired, overestimated, it must be let go, it must be seen as non-existent, illusory and not feared.
- → I invite you to understand that you are not of this world, that I, God, exist, I am perfect, omnipotent, I love you, I have destined you to eternal joy in my world, with me, in full awareness of the truth.
- → In order to shine, in order to fully realize himself, my son he must not fatigue in reaching, in a complete and free way he must recognize me and surrender himself to me in love.
- → Through this experience of pain, disappointment, illusion, deception, nagging, worry, fear, the man, the son, understands, recognizes that he does not live free, he lives as a slave.
- → Be free children, who are, who live for me, in me, conscious, aware, and who do not let be corrupted because united to me by an incorruptible love.
- → I am the lord who assists, raises, frees children, strengthens the righteous, converts, enlightens, protects, cheers, defends, gives peace and prosperity.
- → The world invades my son overwhelmingly, in anguish, it has no law, no rule of love, it uses means that overwhelm, it destroys every one of my sons until it plunges him into destruction, it uses my son, it takes possession of my son without delicacy, without gentleness, without love, it struggles to possess, to use my son with pain, with torment and with breathlessness.
Relative arguments