My children are woven of love, for this love need they are driven to the streets of the world, where they seek love and freedom to love.

My children are woven of love, for this love need they are driven to the streets of the world, where they seek love and freedom to love.

Language: english / italian / spanish / chinese

Above all love
A hidden inheritance

of Francesco Arista and Antonella Molica

Argument

→ My creation is not to be confused with other vain, nonexistent creations, work of a vain, illusory, unsure, uncertain world, that makes my children unconscious of the origin.

→ You tremble because I circulate in you and possess you in love.
→ Now my children feel they are not understood, because the mechanism where they live is made of emptiness, of nothing, of something that has no substance, concreteness and coherence.

→ You, children, need a huge quantity of love, which has not to be sought in the world, has to be sought in me, who am endless love.
→ My children are woven of love, for this love need they are driven to the streets of the world, where they seek love and freedom to love.
→ The Lord God insistently, gently looks at his children projected into the world, knows that his children are paralyzed by a nonexistent mechanism which absorbs them until makes them phantoms and ghosts.
→ Do not trust the world and the illusions of the world.

→ What is visible is only visible, not safety, never makes my children happy, because they live a confused and disordered love.

→ I transform this imperfection in perfection of love, because my project surpasses the world.

→ Everything will be done and each piece will take the place that it will have to take in the greatness of God.

→ Day after day my children fight and pay an high price, because they can not listen to me when I shout sweetly of love.

→ The world does not make my children free, it makes my children slaves and prisoners of an invention of the world.

→ Come to me rejoicing, without throwing on yourself the miseries and poverty of the world.

→ They love the things of the world, that are not worth loving.

→ Everything in me is never appearance, it is clarity, purity, true love, manifest essence, reached only in the love between you and me, possible, which is kept alive with trust and the abandonment of being children and having me for a father.

→ I, God, the Lord, do not use my sons, I do not deceive him, I have always said who I am, who are you, what is the world, I work with intelligence, love and peace in the life of every my son.

Recurrences in the text

→ My creation is not to be confused with other vain, nonexistent creations, work of a vain, illusory, unsure, uncertain world, that makes my children unconscious of the origin.
→ You tremble because I circulate in you and possess you in love.
→ My children are woven of love, for this love need they are driven to the streets of the world, where they seek love and freedom to love.
→ What is visible is only visible, not safety, never makes my children happy, because they live a confused and disordered love.
→ I transform this imperfection in perfection of love, because my project surpasses the world.
→ Everything will be done and each piece will take the place that it will have to take in the greatness of God.
→ Day after day my children fight and pay an high price, because they can not listen to me when I shout sweetly of love.
→ The world does not make my children free, it makes my children slaves and prisoners of an invention of the world.
→ Come to me rejoicing, without throwing on yourself the miseries and poverty of the world.
→ They love the things of the world, that are not worth loving.
→ Everything in me is never appearance, it is clarity, purity, true love, manifest essence, reached only in the love between you and me, possible, which is kept alive with trust and the abandonment of being children and having me for a father.
→ I, God, the Lord, do not use my sons, I do not deceive him, I have always said who I am, who are you, what is the world, I work with intelligence, love and peace in the life of every my son.

Relative arguments