In comparing the man born of a woman to the infinity of what has been; what shall be, and what is now, I find man is only a wink of memory. And the trail he leaves behind is a continuance of the trail others, who have refused to believe it is their responsibility not to recycle their steps of humanism, with hope that those who come behind them will not be entrapped in the continuing ways of man.

We are remembered, not as who we are, we are remembered by the memories we have imprinted in the minds of others. And although we acted out the role which placed those memories upon other's minds, those memories do not depict who we truly are, and have always been.

Those memories remembered were our protective clothing, which we wore to cover our tenderness; and although outwardly we may not have displayed our tenderness, and may not do so now, we realized we could not. If we had, or shall now reveal our true selves to the world, we knew that as the world crucified the Son of Man two thousand years ago, it would, today, crucify us if we did not take the tenderness of us; our true Self, the Son given down to Egypt, and keep it out of harms way.

One day, though, out of the few: "many are called, but few chosen," when that tender One is ready ["travailed in birth again, till Christ was formed in Him"], He will come up out of Egypt to find the waters of Jordan, where He will be baptized, in death, to the Son of Man.

Now the mission for this One is to go into the world; to see if He is truly sanctified in the "word of his power." Should sanctification be His worth, He is no longer lead by the Spirit, He will come forth "in the power of the Spirit."

His footsteps, therefrom, leave a trail of grace, mercy, healing, and the love of God upon all He touches, and who touch Him. So today I ask you, what kind of trail have you left? Have you stopped passing the buck? Have you realized your mortality "must be swallowed up in life," to "Keep your light shining" so "God will put it where it can be seen?"

In the womb we became consciously aware, But not to the cords of memory. The pain, the joy, the abuse, the love all absorbed which we bear, Are the pains and pleasures we shall touch unceasingly. Backwards we come into the world starting this human life to be, Selfish, arrogant, independent thinkers that's what makes us believe we are free.

Developing feelings we begin; naught will stand in our way, If anything is haphazard, it's not so with us we say.

The years after infancy are the telling ones, For they define our dispositions, and how our lives are done, For here our discipline is decided, as our responsibility, For the learning in these years dictates our thoughts eternally.

These are the years which our minds comprehend, Should disaster, or confusion strike early, so will our lives bend, As to whether God is our Father, and we are His kin, Or if satan is our nemesis, or he is our friend.

So " train up a child in the [righteous] way he should go," For you plant the seeds of what you shall sow. And the tears and laughter, yours to share, Yet the consequence of the heartaches and aloneness are only yours to bear.