Rejoice in this love with joy, like a child who does not grow up, who lives the days with care, with small and big gestures in love.
Above all love
A hidden inheritance
- of Francesco Arista and Antonella Molica
Argument
- → Be convinced children, realized in their identity, aware of love, belonging to one father, who fall in love with me every day, recognize and possess light, know each other in light as well as in love, made for eternity and not for the world.
- → The realized son finally accomplished everything he wanted, for which he lived to know me, can understand the parts of his life he thought empty, he fills that nonexistent vacuum, he is completely alive, true, full, shining and brilliant.
- → In the world my children fight to affirm themselves, to fulfill themselves in love, they discover that I, the father, am there for them, with them, in hiding, in silence, they can see me, they find a light that is first small, then large, dazzling , which makes them mine and mine alone.
- → I always bless my children who listen to my teachings, who let themselves be led by me, who rejoice in this revelation, who love me, who love themselves as sons and recognize the lineage between me and them.
- → My children struggle, climb, in a life that passes in trouble, in the poverty of love, of reason, they believe they are limited, they have thoughts that do not develop towards me, ears that do not listen, a heart as big as the mine, which they themselves limit in love.
- → When you can not find the way, listen in silence, with love, do not confuse me, your father, pure love with the world that is not pure and that is not love.
- → Today, every day, I am here with you, I look at you, I listen to you, I hold you by the hand, in my heart, in my thoughts, so tight as to make me feel in my whole being, to make you stop, detach from the things of the world. and really look for me.
- → 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