I am wealth in knowledge, in love, in light, in peace and in righteousness.
Above all love
A hidden inheritance
- of Francesco Arista and Antonella Molica
Argument
- → 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.
Recurrences in the text
- → When I see my tormented children, I understand their difficulties, that there is light but they do not see it, that I am there, but they prefer to me what belongs to the world and to the flesh.
- → Peace is what makes my children safe, mine, in balance and in harmony.
- → Every day I look at you running every trouble and choice.
- → Look in love.
- → Stop and listen in the silence of life.
- → This love is accomplished and revealed wonder.
- → I am wealth in knowledge, in love, in light, in peace and in righteousness.
- → The purpose, the end of my children's existence, is the love between me and them discovered, sought, recognized, appeared, accomplished and realized.
- → 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.
- → My sons now live lost, one day they will understand much more, who I am, where I come from, infinite things, that every son understands, if he abandons himself completely in me, that I am God and above all father.
- → Do not look for things that do not last.
- → Look for me, who am eternal.
- → I am here for every man, for every son, I do not treat him with contempt or cruelly, I treat him as a son, with love and generosity.
- → Even the most terrible is always my son.
Relative arguments