.
In the first one, Life had returned to hunting, some farming, and trading baubles. Buts of metal to tufts of good materials. In the right hands, enough of these could be turned into something. But, until that point, a patch of wool or cotton, or 'button' of copper, would do as currency. For the littler things, usually. An old cast iron engine... now that was some serious "money".
One was coming through town. The thing is, they could just as soon be burned as a witch. Often because of family angry they didn't heal one of theirs. Though, really? You can't heal them all, even in these days. And, it's more craft, deciding what is needed, and then finding and providing that.
Yes, it works. But... lightly. The new medicine, like the old, takes the native health of the patient, the resilience of the patient, their ability to push through, knowing and having the right stuff to offer, and the severity of the illness or wound. It's just not always going to work.
So... I sort of set up this local traveling witch. I had her over, to treat something I was ailing from. With a friend woman there. As soon as we began our business, the woman friend started talking witchcraftery, and saying this and that. Which... was my cue.
I jumped in, and defended the herbalist. Paid her well for her craft. And promised to both protect her as harshly as needed, but also to bring her more clients that day. And "came down" hard on my lady friend. Trying to make sure our witchy friend knew she had a safe harvor. I even ensured I would get her a place to stay, if she wanted to base out of our settlement.
Well, it... wasn't just her practice which caught my eye. I was sort of keen on the woman. And, so... in time, we joined teams, forces, got married. A bit of trickery, if that was mostly to help create a home base, for her practice. That I had an eye for beauty, and could fit that in with good business? Just... a good thing.
Very strange dream. Think... middle of last century, more rural England? Yes, that's about how I would place it.
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The next dream dealt with politics and the evil in it. Many who have been assassinated were murdered by their own. For... one reason or another. Evil murdering evil. Then they road on the coattails of the slain politcian. I'm not even sure there was always a good reason to kill one. Sometimes, it was just because they could, or they pissed off the wrong counters, or same team.
That was truly a bad dream. It... sort of... meant that there aren't any good guys in politics. In any of that swamp. None of them. It is why, when Christ returns, with but a word... or however you want to put it? Many in power will be no more. Actually, blood will run through the streets. And, THAT is after the horseman take their particular share.... some say a third, a quarter, half, but... just understand, the horseman will end many.
Though, too... the horsemen will spend good men on bad. And, with the horsemen and man, and others, the war will be being lost. Only Christ, and His Word, will save what is left of men. Believe it. Even so... it is... uncomfortable to see that. Thankfully, I have no power. Nothing... pulling me to the modernist light, while claiming I am working for or in the real light. Amen.
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Rough morning, but it has been worse. Raining out there. But I can almost hear it greening up out there. It's like the world is getting ready to be trod on by Christ. Even the world loves Jesus. It may not be conscious, but all things were made to the good of God. And all things... bow to Him, kneel. Only man, for the most part, doesn't yet bow. And those angels who fell, chose against acknowledging what they literally knew. In time, all will kneel. This I know in real time.
Grateful that, while that humbling river didn't take me home, it did get me close enough to see the far side, even stand on it for a bit. To understand. Even know, those memories bless my day and night, at times. Powerfully.
Well... on to my day. Have a good morning and day. Later.
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