April 26, 2009
Too Late For Love
To the world and its media…
In my prison at Los Lunas, I have gone through a strange metamorphosis that reminds me of something I was told by my older sister years ago. It was about forty-five years ago, when I lived with my sister after getting out of the Navy. She had a neighbor friend who was divorcing her husband. She had been ignored and emotionally abused by him for a long time, and she wanted to divorce him. She was not drawn to him anymore. She had lost her love. Her husband tried to woo her back. He bought her a bowling ball to try and arouse her affections, but it was no use. My sister explained to me then that when a woman’s love is abused long enough, and she grows cold, something happens within her and she can never love that man again. The love she had cannot be rekindled.
When remembering this incident, I considered my long life of loving the world. I tried to reach you over and over, through many avenues. In recent years, I shared with the media great details of what God had given me to share. I held out my hand over and over again, but each time you interviewed me, you would hit me with your slander. You would strip me naked before my family and abuse me, and them; you put your spin on what I shared, in front of everybody making it look as bad as it could look. But over and over again I would come back to you with my love, thinking, “They just don’t understand. Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” Over and over again, I would share again, pouring out my love, the love of a Child’s heart. I spoke with all of the networks, seeking them out in my love and answering their call. My sharing was the heart of an abused child, trying to make his abusive mommy and daddy understand him. My heart was the heart of an abused wife, seeking to help her abusive husband understand her.
As I have viewed my heart, it is not sophisticated and humanly wise. I have a child’s heart, much like it was when I was seven to nine years of age. Recently, upon my prison bed, my child’s heart has gone through a quiet change. It is something like a child whose love has been crushed out by abusive and drunken parents. The child says, “Mom, Dad, I don’t love you anymore. I am going away.” Or it is like the heart of an abused wife who says, after gathering up her torn clothes and parts of her broken life, “Husband, I have lost my love for you. It cannot be rekindled; I want a divorce.”
This is how I now feel toward the natural world. It took all of my child’s heart’s treasures and cast them to the hogs. Every precious little picture I painted for you, you grabbed from me and stomped it into the earthly swill. I have loved you dearly in my sixty-eight years; I have sacrificed my honor, good name and privacy just to love you. I have sacrificed families for you, my own families. I have loved you more than my own life. I would have given you my life in an instant, in order to aid your understanding and save you. But you repeatedly beat and crushed this Child’s heart for you. You raped this heart of the Bride. You have lashed me, and those who love this Child, with your tongue, and you have beat us with your punishing sticks. My loved ones have washed the blood from this Child and given me mouth to mouth resuscitation. They revived my love over and over again for you.
But in the past few days something has changed for me. I speak to the natural world and its media: my love for you has gone away. I don’t love you anymore. I want a divorce. I don’t want to be an American, or any other national citizen of this earth. You have broken the law of decency, and the everlasting covenant of Grace. You have violated your own soul. My love cannot now be revived for you, for it has been torn out of my heart. I have washed the blood from my face, packed my bloodstained clothing, and I will turn away and not look back again.
When you show your movies about me, congratulating each other on how foul you can make me look, I will not respond. One has to have love in order for him to care about what is said of him. But my love for you has been scoured away by your mob’s constant grieving of my Spirit. All of your hatred, suspicion and abuse has borne fruit. I will not try again to tell you that I love you. I will not try again to tell you that your charges against me are false. I no longer care what you believe about me. It’s too late for love. My heart is numb.
In the Old Testament, God spoke to Israel when they had abused and grieved the Spirit away. He spoke when they crucified His Child heart. He said,
But you turned away when I called out to you. None of you paid attention when I reached out My hand. You turned away from all My advice; you would not accept My warning. So I will laugh at you when you are in danger. I will make fun of you when hard times come. I will laugh when hard times hit you like a storm. I will laugh when danger comes your way like a windstorm. I will make fun of you when suffering and trouble come. Then you will call for Me, but I won’t answer. You will look for Me, but you won’t find Me. You hated knowledge; you didn’t choose to have respect for the Lord. You wouldn’t accept my advice. You turn your backs on My warnings, so you will eat the fruit of the way you have lived. You will choke on the fruit of what you have planned. Proverbs 1:24-31 NIRV
And Jesus said it this way: “Behold, your house is left unto you desolate.” Matthew 23:38
This is what God said to those people, but I will not say it this way to you. When your calamity comes, I will not laugh; nor will I cry. I will not make fun of you. I will simply look at your calamity silently. I will not have emotion. My eyes will behold the reward of those who hated my love, but I will have nothing to respond with. I will simply watch the sinking ship of pirates go down, with no rejoicing or malice. The ones I once loved will go to the bottom, but I cannot react. My heart is grieved out of me for them.
You have closed off my soul so many times through your mocking revelry, that it cannot now be opened to you again. I want to take my loved ones, and leave you in the world that you love. What you do to me now no longer matters. I would have to have love left for you for it to matter. I tried many times to explain things to you, because I loved you. But it’s all gone now; I cannot care what you believe about me now. My heart cannot be aroused to you anymore.
This all happened on my prison bed, after my last media interview. You may go ahead and kill me in your media again, for I don’t care anymore. You took my love and killed it with your bloody hammer, and this child’s heart cannot be made to respond anymore. Do you remember what Jesus said, “Whoever offends one of these little ones, it would be better had he never been born”? I have no more love letters in me, so I shall not be writing to the earth again.
No, I don’t hate those who hate me. I would describe it as “nothing” — I feel nothing for the earth now. This child cannot love his abusers anymore, this bride her abusive husband. You do not recognize that you once had a great treasure in this child. You had a Lover who was priceless, but you squandered your treasures. Now my love for you has departed. You have so identified yourselves with evil abuse, and have become so inseparable from it, that I have nothing more to give, but an emotionless, vacant stare. My jewel box, given you as a gift, is empty. The jewel chest is desolate.
I don’t want to be a citizen of earth anymore. I have nothing more to give it. And I want nothing from you, either. I have cried and tried until I spent myself fully. I tried to save the marriage, but now I no longer want to. My heart has nothing more for you; my soul reaches to you no more. You had a gift from God, but you lost it. It cannot now be restored; it is too late to win the heart of the Child back to you again. It is too late for love. Your hatred and abuse has born its fruit, your whippings of my loved ones has produced its effects. My little boy heart is gone from you, my love is withdrawn. My love now is saved only for those who loved me in this time of trouble.
My love is saved double for the Bride of Christ, who went to my cross with me. I hear her songs, and I respond to her call, but the loud cursings of the mob are now silent to my ears. It takes love to listen to cursings, and I have no more love to listen to them with. My ears are stopped against those I once loved, but now I feel nothing for.
I will be giving no more interviews. I will be posting no more to the earth. My words will only be for my Love, my songs only for those who can hear them. I say to the media, call me no more, for I will not answer. Don’t come to me, for I am not there for you. It is too late for love.
