Since God gave my brain the lube it has been cooperating with how it organizes, files, and rearrange events from time to no-time and moments of prolong instants so as to assist me in going with the flow when this is the most appropriate way to align accurately with life and its concerts of situations and when soloing is my ultimate choice of how I choose to dance with Nature.
My brain has very much been grateful for that one fine day when its squealing woke up God and all its helpers to save it from the peril of static connection ever since I was severed from the lifeline of creation without dying. Thank heavens for how the maker of life designed lungs. Had I been breathing before I leapt out of the womb or maybe I was removed- either way- the whole universe would run for shelter.
The first magical stunt I performed was my lungs gasped when I arrived alive in form and immediately the world knew that I am here to celebrate 120 years of Genesis after my Exodus from the womb. God knew that I was in for the long haul of my full lifespan as I commanded of it when it began forming me into a little big person full of big people instinct and ideas.
“Courage cells, brain summoned, I can take care of you, all of you. Just let me figure out all these rap sheets intended to help me with knowing how I am to handle all this holy instants of lifetimes.”
Like simultaneous and quadratic equations my brain began doing what it can to assisting me being what I am ad true to its covenant it is taking care of all that is necessary to stay plugged to its source. Transcending one purpose of many purposes full of fresh intention extending from the womb of God, ideas trickle, rush, gush relative to its triggers and intuition reminds the brain why it is the way it is and brain stops squealing for God and quietly works with God wherever, however and whenever God declares, “ Nympha Angeal-Eyes Francis, do you read me?”
My brain has very much been grateful for that one fine day when its squealing woke up God and all its helpers to save it from the peril of static connection ever since I was severed from the lifeline of creation without dying. Thank heavens for how the maker of life designed lungs. Had I been breathing before I leapt out of the womb or maybe I was removed- either way- the whole universe would run for shelter.
The first magical stunt I performed was my lungs gasped when I arrived alive in form and immediately the world knew that I am here to celebrate 120 years of Genesis after my Exodus from the womb. God knew that I was in for the long haul of my full lifespan as I commanded of it when it began forming me into a little big person full of big people instinct and ideas.
“Courage cells, brain summoned, I can take care of you, all of you. Just let me figure out all these rap sheets intended to help me with knowing how I am to handle all this holy instants of lifetimes.”
Like simultaneous and quadratic equations my brain began doing what it can to assisting me being what I am ad true to its covenant it is taking care of all that is necessary to stay plugged to its source. Transcending one purpose of many purposes full of fresh intention extending from the womb of God, ideas trickle, rush, gush relative to its triggers and intuition reminds the brain why it is the way it is and brain stops squealing for God and quietly works with God wherever, however and whenever God declares, “ Nympha Angeal-Eyes Francis, do you read me?”
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