Herbert Hilliard | HIV Support Community Forum - Living with HIV

The Rapture Doctrine: Caught Away in an Instant of Cowering Scaredy-cat

The Rapture doctrine is said to have originated from a mentally ill woman named Margaret McDonnell. She was born in 1815 in Port Glasgow, Scotland, and died in 1840.

During this time, many preachers in Scotland believed that supernatural gifts, such as the Holy Spirit, could be used to address the world’s problems.

Isabella and Mary Campbell, while at the parish of Rosneath, popularized these gifts of the Holy Spirit, such as speaking in tongues, as evidence of a person’s legitimacy in possessing supernatural gifts.

Both preachers and lay people were fascinated by these charismatic experiences, although some individuals condemned them as being demonic.

Nevertheless, the Rapture doctrine and speaking in tongues spread from Scotland to the wider Christian world, and they have since become firmly entrenched in religious doctrine and teaching.

In the year 1830, Margaret McDonnell was believed to have been miraculously cured of her mental illness through a healing performed by her brother James Campbell.

What I’m trying to say is, criticizing believers in the rapture undermines the fact that each individual is the agent of their own life and belief systems. I used to trust the nonsense I was taught before I started thinking for myself.

When we hear or read about the horrific events predicted in the Bible’s book of Revelation regarding the supposed end times, our fight or flight instinct naturally takes over, often overriding critical thinking and rationality.

The self-deluded warrior wants to stand and engage in a holy battle with Yeshua, while the less spirited ones want to run and hide in the heat of battle.

The evidence that the rapture is a myth is that the children of God were not taken to safety when the Assyrians destroyed the Northern Kingdom of Israel, nor when the Babylonians crushed the Southern Kingdom of Judah and destroyed the temple of these kingdoms.

There was also no rapture during the hundreds of years that the dispersed people were viciously persecuted in Western Europe, culminating with the extreme measures of racial purification conducted by the Nazis during World War Two and the purging program under Stalin during and after that conflict.

Christians often seem self-satisfied when they talk about being taken up to meet their imaginary deity in the air. This attitude is visible in their smug expressions and the condescending gleam in their eyes, which can be insulting and arrogant.

Everyone wants to believe that they are special in the eyes of a fictional God, and many proclaim themselves as the chosen people with privileged status.

Some who consider themselves chosen by God feel entitled to take others’ land and claim it as their own, while others believe that their well-being is of greater concern to this imaginary God than other people’s.

Peace of mind is being able to walk down the streets in the United States without being shot and killed by the police. Only the farfetched believe that they will be blessed with a white garment from a fictitious God.

Many Christians believe that the meek will inherit the earth. However, the meek referred to in this Bible verse are not deserters cowering behind a cloud while others fight and die for them, but those who are humble in spirit, not lacking in courage.

Regardless of the above arguments, the main reason not to believe in a Rapture is the simple fact that this character called Jesus only exists within the fables of the Bible.

There is an all-consciousness being, but this Jesus is a figment of a lying Jewish/Catholic imagination made up to control the minds of people and justify their criminal acts against them.

People earnestly waiting to be caught up to meet the Lord in the air will live and die, and die and live perpetually, only to have their faith and hopes never realized.

For thoughtlessness’ sake, pretend that the second coming of the Lord plus the catching away of the saints is valid, what does that have to do with so-called Christians?

The words in their Bible suggest that Jesus is only concerned with the Ashkenazi and doesn’t care about anyone else. Having hope and faith is great, but when these feelings are misplaced, it’s like spending your hard-earned money on lottery tickets every day.

Near-death experiences, alien abductions, familiar spirits, channeling, ghostly encounters, episodes encountered during sleep paralysis, and more, can all be grouped under the paranormal and the paranoid.

The fear of death creates believers of all persuasions, so it’s death, not the great tribulation, that Christian believers want to escape. Without collapse and demise as part of life, there would be no place in the human mind for any religion to reside.

Being caught up in a puff of nasal spray to meet the invisible lord in the air is the hopeful expectation of escaping physical death. Wake up, sky-gazers, for your redemption does not even come.

The celestial joke is on all of us mortals, comforting ourselves with some vague hereafter and living in imaginary places called either heaven or hell. Human Deoxyribonucleic acid has physical death engrafted in it.

The woman’s ovary produces four hundred thousand follicles of death at the instant a woman’s follicles become fertilized into an embryo.

So, the story goes, not one of the make-believe apostles of this fabricated Christ was raptured, and not one of them died a natural death.

Yet, people are digging holes in the ground and storing food and water for the anticipated horrors to come because they believe in the fictional tales of their Bible.

The so-called elites are moving the nations of the world towards a third World War and creating their forms of rapture that they hope will keep them safe as the less privileged disintegrate into vapors.

The wages of faith are not accomplishing anything, so I will have faith that this police will not shoot me as he takes out his gun, aims, and pulls the trigger.

Joan of Arc was a woman of tremendous courage and faith, but that fellow Jesus did not see fit to catch her away into the misty beyond as fiery torches were placed at her feet.

There is no clay fragment, or any other type of writing material, written in any script, which corroborates biblical foolishness.

Nonetheless, everyone must use what they have to make it through the day and give them hope for the next.

Airflow away, you cloud gazers.

Credit: Grammarly AI Improve It

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How Do I Feel?

RecentPosts / Herbert Hilliard

How do I feel? Not lonely. Not empty. Maybe I feel shallow. According to Webster dictionary, one definition of shallow is “lacking in depth or solidity, or a lack of emotions or character”

Something is missing in my life, and I am missing out.

Maybe feeling empty is a better term as empty is defined as, “containing nothing, not occupied or inhabited, lacking reality, substance, meaning, or value: hallow, destitute of effort or force, devoid of sense: Foolish.” Also, according to Webster dictionary.

I cannot describe how I am feeling because I am feeling nothing. But how can you feel nothing when the feeling of nothing is a feeling?

I see her in my make-believe, and I feel comfort and because I cannot talk with or touch her, I feel lonely. There is no compromise or a way to transform fantasy into reality. The void is fixed, and the flower will not bloom.

How do I feel about my feeling when my thoughts about my feelings are as vague as my feelings. Is there a way to energize myself when I am unclear of what is lacking?

I make love to her within the vacuum of my conscious where all matter is removed, and so, she can not experience the touch of my hands upon her or hear the sound of my voice telling her that I love her.

I feel like crying but that is a waste of tears for one such as myself who is not deserving of sorrow and compassion, much less the luxury of self-pity.

So, what do I do when I have no idea what to do? And where do I go when all directions lead me back to myself.

According to my definition, I am death waiting for burial and a corpse with an overdue appointment to rot. But that is the lowest spectrum of my definition of myself as a higher level of my self-evaluation has promise and accomplishment.

The seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and years could care less about how I feel about myself or about whether my life is empty or filled.

I can hold and kiss her until our lips fall apart in my make-believe and it means nothing to the next tick on the clock or the next to last beat of my heart.

Therefore, how do I describe how I am feeling when my feelings are without significance to anyone? What do my feelings matter when she is only a figment of my isolation?

I have no way to explain how I am feeling, but what does it matter, and who cares?

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I Hear All

RecentPosts / Herbert Hilliard

I hear all the arguments and I wonder if it is all the poisons that they are putting in the foods that we eat, the water and other liquids that we drink, and the air that we breathe that is causing this? I wonder if it is the artificial signals such as WIFI and microwave that are constantly altering the natural signals that our brains produce that are producing such contentions?

Whatever the cause of such quarrels and disputes, it is annoying to hear what sounds like furniture tossed around and doors slammed as if the antagonist are trying to knock the building down. Not to mention the loud bickering voices accompanying the house ware demolition.

I will never confront such contenders because I do not want to be drawn into their disagreements as their arguments are none of my business. It is just disturbing to be an unwilling second-hand participant in someone else’s dispute.

Could it be that those who are loud and vocal have an active agenda to blur all the lines that nature has formed to accommodate their whims is confusing those easily swayed that is the cause of all the turmoil? I am not complaining about how someone chooses to live; I would just like them to keep it to themselves without my being indirectly involved in it.

I hear loud argumentative voices, the furniture tumbling and crashing against the wall, and the door slamming, and I wonder if it is because of how contaminated the rainwater is that is the trigger for such heated discussions?

I hear all, and I would prefer not having such noises irritate my ears. Complaining or expressing an opinion, call it what you must as it is difficult to say anything nowadays without hurting someone’s feelings or using inappropriate pronouns.

Drugs and alcohol are sometimes the fuel for these contentions but not always. I wonder if it is climate change that is irritating sensibilities since climate change is the blame for so many things today, as well as a wayward carbon footprint. I wonder what I should do if one of these quarrels gets out of hand.

Should I intervene in some way to defuse it? The last thing I want to do is call the police on someone. Should I continue as I have, allowing the furniture and the doors to fall where they may? I wonder is it because of all the nonsense that people are watching on television, on videos, and in the movies that is contributing to an increase in squabbling?

I am doing my share of wondering and I am wondering if I am making too much of my walls trembling and the possibility of a bullet coming through the floor or the walls. I should trust in the better half of human nature that one slap in the face will only produce another in retaliation to the offending party and go no farther.

I hear all that I do not want to hear, which makes it difficult to maintain a mentality of peace when surrounded by strong differences of opinion that have nothing to do with me.

If it were not for the disturbance I would not care about the arguments, I would remain unfulfilled and not contented in my own diminutive world and not have a thought about how others manage their own little world.

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In My Exalted Opinion

RecentPosts / Herbert Hilliard

In my exalted opinion she is beside herself when it comes to the topic of love and romance. In my understanding she believes that love and romance are unequivocally linked to warmth and affection. I can appreciate her approach in this matter, but it seems to me that fondness and regard are the byproducts of friendship and familiarity.

I have known her for the expanded length of one and a half hours and to me that is more than enough time for she and I to go to the next level of togetherness. Anything thing that we need to know about one another can come later but for now the kitchen sink is free of dishes and the front door locked with a do not disturb sign in place.

Learn a lesson from the duck billed platypus, when it’s time to go, it is time to go. Do not complicate things but leave them as simple as possible. In my lauded opinion she has a propensity to elevate sentimentalism into a state of glorification that goes beyond needed and necessary.

In my humble abode there is clarity, order, and placing everything in its proper place. And her proper place for me is there, if there exists such a place as there, is on the bed with me.

I hear what she is saying, I am listening, but I am not in the mood to debate social norms with her. Currently my present sphere of thoughts is that of an uncivilized barbaric. In the after hours to come I will patiently discuss all the topics important to her. I am not selfish nor arrogant but focused on a single objective.

Sitting in the shade of a baobab tree a man contemplates the nature of life. He does not place much value on yesterday or tomorrow but on what he sees before him and to what degree he can manipulate it.

In his exalted opinion the woman walking with a basket of cocoa nuts on her head 3.048 meters away from him is about the prettiest woman he had ever seen. Contemplating the nature of life becomes a blur in his thinking as he relishes the exquisite sight passing before him.

The interaction between sunlight and shadow causes her legs to appear to shimmer as she walks. The sound of her voice as she sings a traditional song while she is gracefully placing one step before the next fills him with strength and vigor.

Could this be the answer to the nature of life that he is seeking? Is the sound of her voice the mystery of everything suddenly revealed to him? And what is her opinion regarding love and romance and does her opinion align with his?

I listen to her intently to understand what she is saying. I let her speak without interruption. I agree with her wholeheartedly to place her into a relaxed and compliant temperament. I do all this because I am focused on a single objective and that objective has little to do with love and romance.

The one who walks so elegantly will assuredly be joined by other women on their way to the marketplace as well. He has but a short window of time to decide regarding his approach to her. In my estimate she is neither thinking about love nor romance now because the traditional song that she sings is of a time long ago when her people ruled the world.

In my exalted opinion she is making too much of a kiss and a hug. She wants to attach sentimental attributes to the call of the wild. He understands that he cannot convince her but that she must convince herself of his proposition.

He is patient but his patience is not everlasting. She must put aside whatever conventions she holds and place her hips at his grasp and command this is the best way to approach this slight divergence of opinion between him and her.

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The After Effect of Her Kiss

RecentPosts / Herbert Hilliard

The after effect of her kiss appeared almost immediately. In my eyes the aftermath of her surprise kiss showed itself and has constantly affected my vision. Attempting to alleviate myself of her presence has been like trying to drench the portals of hell with my tears. I find no rest from a particular undefined she has given me. Caught off guard I did not expect the assault of her lips that had an un-measurable container of watery eyes in store for me.

In the elastic properties of measuring time, she placed a kiss on me that makes a mockery of the term short-term. A kiss that coats my eyes with a milky haze that constantly reminds me of how the quality of being able to grasp what is obscure is so important in maintaining a healthy life. Leave me alone, you kiss of whatever and give me a deserved rest from wiping my eyes. Let me spend just one minute of the day or of the night in visionary peace.

This is a true tale that demonstrates the absolute validity of the well-worn phrase forget-me-not. A surprise kiss that flies in the breadbasket of what is reasonably and logically expected from one who is promoting themselves as being the definition of affectionate. In the annals of the undesirable her unexpected kiss makes the top of the list by its unfortunate intrusion upon my face. A life changing kiss perpetrated from the wayward side of oral hygiene is what she gave me.

Almost immediately the harmful effect of a misplaced kiss started drooling from my eyes. A pillar of salt cannot evoke the anguish that I feel as I constantly wipe my eyes. Watery without any regard to the feeling of sorrow that teary eyes may indicate. A purulent drainage that becomes hard during the night that can be pulled away from the eyes like a long thread. Medical professionals speculate and guess about the cause that is producing the effect, which I can tell them is a kiss that produces a thick, milky fluid that unrelentingly oozes from my eyes.

What can I say except that one should always be on guard because injury and damage can come without warning and from anything. With an unexpected kiss she tattooed me with an unbroken stream of continuously flowing muck more fitting for the sewage than my eye lids. Saliva, heavily armored with torment was her weapon of choice that she inflicted on me without an avenue for relief. But I appeal not to charity for charity does not contain mercy and mercy does not operate in the venue of relief.

So, I suffer the ignominious side effect of a surprise kiss that fell upon me like a meteor from a far distant world of oral hygiene gone amok. Live with the consequences of her kiss I must because doctors and over-the-counter products have been of no avail. May her kiss be placed on no one else.

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