I have heard the crying of your heart. I have seen the searching of your soul. I know how deeply you have desired the truth. In pain you have called out for it, and in joy. Unendingly have you beseeched Me. Show Myself. Explain Myself. Reveal Myself. Listen......
The words to the next song your hear. The information in the next article you read. The story line of the next movie you watch. The chance utterance of the next person you meet. Or the whisper of the next river, the next ocean, the next breeze that caresses your ear--all these devices are Mine; all these avenues are open to Me. I will speak to you if you will listen. I will come to you if you will invite me. I will show you then that I have always been there. All ways.
The Greatest Lies Ever Told, Are The Truths Left Unsaid
How Can You Buy or Sell The Earth?
Chief Seattle
How can you buy or sell the sky, the warmth of the land? The idea is strange to us. If we do not own the freshness of the air and the sparkle of the water, how can you buy them? Every part of the earth is sacred to my people. Every shining pine needle, every sandy shore, every mist in the dark woods, every clearing, and every humming insect is holy in the memories of my people. The sap which course through the trees carries memories of the red man. So, when the Great White Chief in Washington sends word that he wishes to buy our land, he asks much of us..... This we know: All things are connected. Whatever befalls the earth befalls the sons of the earth. Man did not weave the web of life; he is merely a strand in it. Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself. But we will consider your offer to go to the reservation you have for my people. We will live apart, and in peace. One thing we know, which the white man may one day discover--our God is your God. You may think now that you own Him as you wish to own our land; but you cannot. He is the God of man; and his compassion is equal for the red man and the white. This earth is precious to Him and to harm the earth is to heap contempt on its Creator. The whites too shall pass; perhaps sooner than all other tribes. Continue to contaminate your bed, and you will one night suffocate in your own waste. But in your perishing you will shine brightly, fired by the strength of the god who brought you to this land and for some special purpose gave you domain over this land and the red man. That destiny is a mystery to us, for we do not understand when the buffalo are all slaughtered, the wild horses are all tamed, and the view of the ripe hills are blotted by talking wires. Where is the thicket? Gone. Where is the eagle? Gone. And what is to goodbye to the swift pony and the hunt? The end of living and the begining of survival. So we consider your offer to buy the land. If we agree, it will be to secure the reservation you have promised. There, perhaps, we may live out our brief days as we wish. When the last red man has vanished from the earth, and the his memory is only the shadow of a cloud moving across the prairie, these shores and forests will still hold the spirits of my people. For they love this earth as a newborne loves its mother's heartbeat. So, if we sell our land, love it as we loved it. Care for it as we've cared for it. Hold it in your mind the memory of the land as it is when you take it. And preserve it for your children, and love it....as God loves us all. One thing we know. Our God is the same God. This earth is precious to Him. Even the white man cannot be exempt from the common destiny. We may be brothers after all.
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