Awakening Awakening






Trey Smith: The video above is the short version of, "the Choice." I wrote 3 letters following the safe robbery of Mike Murdock which were truly me pouring out my heart. I would sit in the desert at night and just write things sometimes.... probably full books worth of stuff if I ever really organized it. Here on this webpage I condensed some of it into a short piece of text that I hope you enjoy -- Much of the original 3 letters had content I would disagree with now , so I shortened it into what is beneath..... Trey Smith


by Trey Smith

There are two prominent mechanisms that appear to be successfully controlling most of mankind; like efficient programs to keep us running in meaningless little circles, never even making it beyond our own skin. You can tell which program has the person next to you bound by simply listening to which story they have to tell.

One: a very prideful story of what self perceived wonders they have done, even if such self proclaimed wonders are crimes committed against the world around. These are tales of self-gratification, greed, self-will, self-importance and the desperate ego driven need to "get ahead" even at the expense of others. People whose every other word is: me, I, or mine.

They are the gluttons, the great garbage collectors of life, collecting everything they can as fast as they can and clutching on to it with tightened fists and a grand fear to ever lose a single thing. They are exact opposites of the Christ mentality. They are violators of one of the single most important laws that governs the very fabric of the universe itself, whether you believe in God or do not. They do not understand the simplest of simple rules: That you must give to receive, and, that the very purpose of "getting" is that you may have something to give away.

They are exactly like I have been, inlets without an outlet; a contradiction to the very flow of life itself. They scramble to desperately amass anything that is within arm's reach, building fortresses around themselves as barriers of tight protection from the outside world, only to find that the great enemy for which they feared all the while was within.

Then, there is personality type Two: It is the "focuser" on the problems, the troubles, the rocky path, the fanged animals and the perils that always lay on the road ahead. These are the ones who bow in the temple of this present darkness to their own self-pity. They moan and groan... scream, whine and beg. In their world everything is always falling apart. It is this crisis followed by the next; like sheep crying for the wolves to find them.


"Are those the governing traits of us all?" I have thought to myself; the glutton to the groaner and all subtle levels of insecurity that lie in-between. And, when it boils right down to it, both these are actually just outward expressions of mankind's single most prevalent driving force, Fear.


In the grandness of all the stars, the solar systems, the world within worlds, the great beyond and all that which this feeble human mind would shutter to understand, we are such a speck; a tiny, tiny speck. We, and when I say we, I really mean I, have fancied ourselves as little kings, self-important, self-proclaimed gods to which all should bow to recognize our trite conquests, trials, problems and achievements. It is like a drop of water telling the ocean how important it is.

Perhaps a grand statement to thoughts of David as he wrote to God, "Who is man that you are mindful of him?"

Which brings us full circle to the great question of The Way Out and which way we go with our bicycle on the hill? Do we allow ourselves to be consumed by the natural state of this flesh? Do we accept the fear and grip it tight as we plummet to the deepest regions of abyss? Or, do we go against the mechanics of this place, this great big finely crafted Swiss watch with all its delicate gears working in harmony until both hands hit zero. The moment when all illusion stops.

Perhaps that is the moment that we find ourselves, "absent from the flesh and present with the Spirit." The moment I have come to understand that our ability to that thing called "Choice" is gone. The moment that this all consuming thing we have called "the NOW" becomes past; and, the infinite and unimaginable becomes "Present."

So, What is the Choice? You ask.

Even amidst all the bad here, praise God for this evil flesh. Praise God for the darkness that breathes down your neck. Praise God for every demon who conspires to take your life. Praise God for trials. Praise God for persecutions. Praise God for this thing called Choice; that, as Paul said, "The tribulations of this world are not worthy to compare with the Glory which is to come in the next."

In fact, praise God for this moment, this "Now."

Perhaps "now" is merely a precious mixture of past and future passing each other in this capsule of flesh. Perhaps it is this very transaction that creates the illusion of action at all, the illusion of motion, the illusion of time.

In the end, the important questions are right back where we began. "What am I really? Who am I? What is the relevance of any of this?"

Am I the collection of desires that cry out for what I know I shouldn't have? Am I the petty wants and needs that pass from one day to the next? Am I the evil thoughts that fill this flesh if I let them? Am I the weakness that tries to claim control? Or, am I the strength in the hour I need it most?

The truth is that I am who I am in the moments that no one is looking. It is in the moment that God has left the garden that we decide to bite the apple or not. Yesterday affects the flesh and its future. "Now" is the equation that equals where your soul would be should this flesh fail in the next heartbeat.

The spirit is made in the image of God. Surely that is not a reference to this dying skin. Rather, like the drop of water, it has identical qualities to the ocean from which it came. It is a part of the ocean and the ocean is a part of it. Thus, the difference between the two is not quality, it is quantity. Therefore also, the soul of man is nothing less than a piece of the Father fighting its way back to the Source from which it came.

All one has to do to begin is pause long enough to open your REAL eyes.




My name is Trey Smith. I want to thank you for reading this portion of the Original Letters I wrote and titled "God in a Nutshell."

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