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Go Back   Spiritual Forums > Spirituality & Beliefs > Channeling > Channeled Messages

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Old 30-05-2018, 01:01 AM
John Asherah John Asherah is offline
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Join Date: Mar 2018
Posts: 170
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The Asherah Code: Sarah's Ascent

I am Serah, last priestess of Solomon’s temple.

I was murdered by Hilkiah and his conspirators, but I am far from the only victim.

It begins with the assassination of good King Amon.

My loyal family and many others of the palace are falsely accused and quickly executed to conceal the truth.

I am spared by Queen Mother Jedidah and soon after enter Temple training. I learn much.

There I learn: As above, so below.
When two human beings unite, they do so beyond flesh alone. An intimate weaving of spirit occurs that is a foretaste of the yet greater joining to come. The feral cannot attain this ascended merging. The more fully human, the more intricate and intense the sacred union. The two entwine, reflect and absorb one another until a third is formed, which encompasses and deeply joins the two.

I am now fourteen. With Josiah my King, I share a token of knowing. I guide his ascent above the shell that he may perceive and personally experience the true core of eternity.

The Queen Mother intends the King and I to be wed and restore the nation.

Before this happens, I am murdered.
While in the Sanctuary, I am taken by Hilkiah and his gang.

To me, Hilkiah says: “You presume to bear a Mystery of the Temple. Reveal to me the secret and you shall live; withhold it and you shall perish in agony.” I speak not a word.

To them he says: “She is bound and naked before us, helpless upon the horns; now to be filled, emptied and divided.”

There is no sufficient name for what these holy men, the rampant priests of Judah do. They look upon me, whom they pierce and apply the word honor to their crimes.

By the hair Hilkiah wrenches my head up.
“See me.” he hisses.
Something dark writhes behind his eyes.

His curse begins:
“I now erase you from time itself and silence you utterly, as though you never lived. Your stench is an affront to the nostrils of God, which no cleansing can long remove. As long as this Temple stands, a woman shall never again fully enter this place.”

He continues:
“Man's inexplicable desire for your ungainly form is unholy. You are a hateful necessity; a filthy secret, best concealed from view.”

He concludes:
“The scriptures have been corrected. God is Father only and women, no more than containers for the seed of men; a womb without a soul.”

He holds the blade of sacrifice up to my sight and then drags it with slow force across my throat. I feel the tearing and draining as my lifeblood sprays into the vessel another holds.

My head falls forward and I am released. I pass through him, feeling the cold dark disease there and plans within plans, which pervade all.

I see regicide and a boy-king held in thrall by this tool of the Adversary.

I see how Hilkiah covers his own theft and makes an alibi of those honorable men who refurbish the Temple by claiming that no accounting for the allocated funds is necessary, as the workers are honest.

I see how Hilkiah has long plundered the Temple, diverting what is set apart to benefit all to instead enrich only a few. His intention is to centralize worship in service to a monopoly.

I see many drowning in darkness and eternal fear, unquestioning obedience to the whim and will of madness; rivers of blood, deepest despair, neverending wrath, an eternity bereft of hope.

I see Solomon’s house divide and fall to rubble, yet remain the pretext for endless war.

Then I see a pure young woman bear a child who ascends to become more than a man. He is anointed and proclaims freedom, but is then betrayed and murdered before it arrives.

Sons of darkness twist his teachings to again enthrone falsehood.
I see many kneel in fearful submission.

Then I see the fallen word lose its grip and Loving Wisdom return.
Children recognize their Mother and fear no more, for She has surely remembered.

My body is cleaved in two for an unholy covenant of pieces. My blood upon the horns, Hilkiah and his conspirators solemnly stride between the savaged halves as they recite: “So may this fate befall me, if ever I do forsake my oath.”

An empty body is burned upon the altar, along with the first law.
I leave the dead to bury their dead and ascend home.

As must ever be, truth does rise and return, however long or deeply buried.
Upon lips of clay, ring out words of undying love.
Thus, does flesh accomplish eternity.
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