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Prophetic Endurance

Who is the Real Lion?

What does the lion represent, and when we once heard on an individual basis from a living, breathing God, or the real lion. . . . do we still? Or do we hear nothing? This imagery crops up in the last book of The Chronicles of Narnia, where in The Last Battle there is a donkey being paraded around in lion skins, made to look and convince people it is a lion, and almost worshiped as if it is a real lion. The clever little monkey who cooks up this huge show has a nightly following that is as good as TV.

Who is the monkey? Who is the lion? To understand this analogy I had to hearken back to my earlier years when I was newly married and acquired a little niece of three years nicknamed "monkey". She claimed to have been raised by seven parents, including her birth mother and father, but I was the surrogate so to speak. I fed her, read her stories and spent time playing with her and taking care of her. When her birth father was up late having a drug party, it was I and my husband who went over to his house at 10 PM to take her home. From then on she was a regular at our house. I was her nanny, and provided preschool for her on week days. When eventually she was separated from her birth mother by social services, I stepped in to hear her tears, and comb her hair, and tell her stories. I wrote all the books I wrote on an invitation from her grandmother, that I "put the poems down for Angel", who was born on Christmas Day.

There were none on paper at that point. So I started writing them down at night, while my husband worked the night shift to pay off a loan fro his brother to his mother for a business he would not take ownership for: Nighttime Awning Washing. Ughh. As a new wife I hated losing my husband to have to pay off a business loan for his brother, but he was the responsible one, and eventually his brother took responsibility, got a job married and bought a house. In fact, the whole family benefited. When I arrived, they were high on pot, selling magic mushrooms for spare cash and furnished the living room with stolen property. They all got off drugs, went to rehab, went back to trade school, married and got houses of their own. His sister even spent her life in YWAM. 

It was because of "Monkey," the little girl who had long blond hair and looked just like me that I had to think about why we over-venerate mothers in our society. Just bearing itself does not technically make you a mother in a world of adoption, abortion and surrogate mothers. I, never having had a child of my own, technically only raised Angel, and she now has a family of her own, a job as a cook in a restaurant, and a daughter. I felt I was treated at points in life like I did not like children, was doing something wrong, or was hard-nosed not to want to have children. I was at points related to as immature, and inferior. At some churches, I appreciated that they still gave me a flower on Mother's Day, they gave one to every woman, whether she had children or not: I knew it was for me because I had Angel, although I would not put the pressure on her to admit loyalty to one parent over another. 

So there is a "real" mother, in fact God, our Heavenly Mother with real Biblical qualities mentioned numerous times in the Scriptures. Then there is the Welfare Mother (with only enough money to buy cigarettes), who might not be able to raise us, can't sustain our life, and is technically over-worshipped. How does that relate to modern times? During Covid, the mother of the house became the medical profession, and we had to hearken to their every command. That is an interesting way to take over the house with a "false" lion. This lion has a lot of demands for loyalty, veneration, and adulation, but can't sustain our life. It can't sustain the life of every family and their needs during a depression. We might as well all be put on welfare, just to get by. How do we move on out of this state, when we are now government dependent?

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