COME OUT OF HER MY PEOPLE means far more than physically out... Expose Darkness 511
Revelation 18:4
“And I heard another voice from heaven, saying, Come out of her, my people, that ye be not partakers of her sins, and that ye receive not of her plagues.”
King James Version (KJV)
2 Kings 9:33
“And he said, Throw her down. So they threw her down: and some of her blood was sprinkled on the wall, and on the horses: and he trode her under foot.”
King James Version (KJV)
Essential Background Studies:
Sincere Milk of God’s Word: Sole Antivenom to the Agony of Satan’s Guile
https://youtu.be/_ykRJ-QeUb8?si=ky3CuXOs9DXEOr09
https://www.thethirdheaventraveler.com/2025/03/the-queen-of-heaven-exposed-expose.html
https://www.thethirdheaventraveler.com/2025/02/paula-whites-role-in-cabals-plan-to-use.html
@ThirdHeavenTraveler Amen brother, It is sometimes difficult to be able to see these things so clearly when the eyes of those who are in it are so tightly shut. As Jeremiah lamented (I think that is our lamentation too as the church of Philidelphia) : "For these things I weep; mine eye, mine eye runneth down with water, because the comforter that should relieve my soul is far from me: my children are desolate, because the enemy prevailed." (Lam 1:16) "Mine eyes do fail with tears, my bowels are troubled, my liver is poured upon the earth, for the destruction of the daughter of my people; because the children and the sucklings swoon in the streets of the city." (Lam 2:12) "Arise, cry out in the night: in the beginning of the watches pour out thine heart like water before the face of the Lord: lift up thy hands toward him for the life of thy young children, that faint for hunger in the top of every street." (Lam 2:19) Jeremiah was heartbroken and he said "They have heard that I sigh: there is none to comfort me" (Lam 1:21), but we, although we also grieve, we are so blessed to be comforted by THE COMFORTER. Brother I am no more than the widow who shared her little bit of oil with Elisha the prophet in the hope to spare her sons from captivity...and Elisha multiplied the little bit into more than enough. I am the maid servant just doing what I can and ought to with what I have been GIVEN (which is not mine!)...and I thank God for that prophetic spirit in you that knows what to do with the widow's oil, because of the unction of the Lord in your life also."
End Quote.
The connection between the Greek word dolos (Strong's G1388, δόλος) and the Latin word dole (assuming you mean dolus, as dole isn’t a standalone Latin word tied to this context) from both a conceptual and etymological perspective. If you intended a different Latin term, please let me know, but I’ll proceed with dolus since it aligns most closely with dolos phonetically and historically.
Conceptual LinkGreek Dolos: In Greek, dolos means "deceit," "guile," "trickery," or "craft." It’s often used to describe cunning behavior or a deliberate act of deception, such as setting a trap or baiting someone into a false sense of security. For example, in the New Testament (e.g., Mark 7:22), it’s listed among vices like greed and malice, and in Homeric literature, it’s tied to strategic cunning (e.g., Odysseus’s trickery).
Latin Dolus: In Latin, dolus similarly means "deceit," "fraud," "guile," or "malice with intent." It’s a legal and moral term, often used in Roman law to denote intentional deception (e.g., dolus malus for "evil intent" or fraud). Think of it in contexts like someone scheming to cheat another party in a contract.
Conceptual Connection:
Etymological SenseGreek Dolos:
Latin Dolus: Latin dolus is widely considered a borrowing or cognate of Greek dolos, influenced by the extensive cultural and linguistic exchange between Greece and Rome. Its etymology aligns with PIE dol- or del- (related to "deception" or "cunning"), the same family as dolos. Latin didn’t invent dolus from scratch; it adapted it from Greek, tweaking its application to fit Roman contexts like law and ethics.
Etymological Connection: The two words are etymologically linked as cognates or through direct borrowing. Greek dolos predates Latin dolus, and as Greek culture influenced Rome (especially post-Hellenistic conquests), words like this migrated into Latin with minimal change. The shared PIE root reinforces their common ancestry, though Latin’s use of dolus became more formalized.
Summary
Etymologically, they’re connected through a shared PIE root (dol- or del-) and likely a direct Greek-to-Latin borrowing, with dolus adapting dolos into Roman usage.
In short, dolos and dolus are two sides of the same deceptive coin, tied by language evolution and cultural exchange. If you meant a different "dole" (e.g., from English or another Latin term), just clarify, and I’ll refine further!
Conceptual Connection
Doldrums:Meaning: A state of stagnation, listlessness, or gloom; nautically, the windless equatorial seas.
Etymology: From Old English dol ("dull" or "stupid"), Proto-Germanic dulaz ("foolish"), PIE dheu̯el- ("to dim" or "cloud"). Coined around 1800, possibly with a nod to "tantrum."
Dolōrēs:Meaning: Plural of dolor, Latin for "pain," "sorrow," or "anguish" (e.g., dolōrēs corporis – "pains of the body").
Etymology: From dolēre ("to hurt"), Proto-Indo-European dhel- or dol- ("to suffer" or "to wound"). Root of Spanish dolor, French douleur, etc.
Conceptual ConnectionShared Theme of Suffering:
Link: Both evoke a burden—doldrums as a passive, numbing suffering, dolōrēs as active pain. A sailor in the doldrums might feel dolōrēs from despair, connecting the two experientially. Imagine Virgil’s Aeneas, stalled at sea, lamenting dolōrēs (Aeneid 1.5, "multos dolores"), akin to a doldrums-like funk.
Stagnation and Pain:In the doldrums, progress halts—ships don’t move, hope fades.
Metaphorical Overlap: The nautical doldrums’ "dullness" (dol) could poetically align with dolōrēs’ "sorrow"—a dull ache of the soul. Both suggest a state you endure, not escape easily.
Conceptual: A strong case—doldrums’ listless gloom aligns with dolōrēs’ lingering pain. A sailor’s cry of dolōrēs in the windless tropics could birth a doldrums-like mood. The dull ache of inactivity feels like a cousin to Latin sorrow.
https://acrobat.adobe.com/id/urn:aaid:sc:AP:18437cfd-5776-4fef-8d27-fe502c7950a5
I am sending this attached PDF so we have it at hand as there is something highlighted that I think would be a very good way to end off the study...or at any point should the opportunity be right.
It is about how they catch men and women using either our lust for material things and/or knowledge, or our emotional pain to entrap.
I think it was very well explained in the highlighted area of the attached PDF and I thought it would go well with this pic on turning to the Lord ALONE in order to cast Jezebel out from our own hearts and minds...... to explain how important it is to turn to the Lord for healing and to free us from things within (like greed and unresolved emotional pain) that make us susceptible to their BAIT. It does not help to just leave the physical false church...we must ask the Lord to CAST HER OUT OF US.
COME OUT OF HER MY PEOPLE means far more than physically out...
because our Lord said we must be IN HIM and HIS WORD IN US , and He said HE WAS IN THE FATHER AND THE FATHER IN HIM...
So,,,being IN HER is more than physical...it is SPIRITUAL too, and we must come OUT SPIRITUALLY and GET HER OUT FROM US TOO! Only the Lord can do that for us.
The connection between the Greek word dolos (Strong's G1388, δόλος) and the Latin word dole (assuming you mean dolus, as dole isn’t a standalone Latin word tied to this context) from both a conceptual and etymological perspective. If you intended a different Latin term, please let me know, but I’ll proceed with dolus since it aligns most closely with dolos phonetically and historically.
Conceptual LinkGreek Dolos: In Greek, dolos means "deceit," "guile," "trickery," or "craft." It’s often used to describe cunning behavior or a deliberate act of deception, such as setting a trap or baiting someone into a false sense of security. For example, in the New Testament (e.g., Mark 7:22), it’s listed among vices like greed and malice, and in Homeric literature, it’s tied to strategic cunning (e.g., Odysseus’s trickery).
Latin Dolus: In Latin, dolus similarly means "deceit," "fraud," "guile," or "malice with intent." It’s a legal and moral term, often used in Roman law to denote intentional deception (e.g., dolus malus for "evil intent" or fraud). Think of it in contexts like someone scheming to cheat another party in a contract.
Conceptual Connection:
Both words revolve around the idea of intentional deception or trickery.
They share a core concept of manipulating reality—whether through words, actions, or schemes—to mislead others for one’s own advantage.
In Greek, dolos might lean slightly more toward the imagery of a trap or bait (like a fisherman’s lure), while Latin dolus often carries a legalistic flavor, emphasizing willful fraud. However, the overlap is strong: both imply a calculated, hidden intent to deceive.
For instance, a Greek storyteller might use dolos for a hero’s clever ruse, while a Roman jurist might use dolus to condemn the same act if it broke a law.
Etymological SenseGreek Dolos:
The word dolos derives from an obsolete Greek verb dello (to bait or ensnare), suggesting an origin tied to hunting or trapping metaphors. It’s likely linked to a Proto-Indo-European (PIE) root such as dolh₁os or del- (meaning "to trick" or "to harm"), though the exact reconstruction is debated. The term’s evolution reflects its use in oral traditions and later written Greek, where it became a standard word for deceit.
Latin Dolus: Latin dolus is widely considered a borrowing or cognate of Greek dolos, influenced by the extensive cultural and linguistic exchange between Greece and Rome. Its etymology aligns with PIE dol- or del- (related to "deception" or "cunning"), the same family as dolos. Latin didn’t invent dolus from scratch; it adapted it from Greek, tweaking its application to fit Roman contexts like law and ethics.
The phonetic shift from Greek dolos (with an omicron) to Latin dolus (with a short u) is typical of how Latin assimilated Greek vocabulary.
Etymological Connection: The two words are etymologically linked as cognates or through direct borrowing. Greek dolos predates Latin dolus, and as Greek culture influenced Rome (especially post-Hellenistic conquests), words like this migrated into Latin with minimal change. The shared PIE root reinforces their common ancestry, though Latin’s use of dolus became more formalized.
There’s no evidence of an independent Latin origin for dolus—it’s a clear descendant or adoption of the Greek term.
Summary
Conceptually, dolos and dolus are nearly identical, both describing deceit and trickery, with slight contextual flavors (Greek: trap-like cunning; Latin: legal fraud).
Etymologically, they’re connected through a shared PIE root (dol- or del-) and likely a direct Greek-to-Latin borrowing, with dolus adapting dolos into Roman usage.
In short, dolos and dolus are two sides of the same deceptive coin, tied by language evolution and cultural exchange. If you meant a different "dole" (e.g., from English or another Latin term), just clarify, and I’ll refine further!
Conceptual Connection
Roman Dole (Grain Welfare): The grain dole (cura annonae) was a state-sponsored distribution of grain or bread to Rome’s urban citizens, designed to prevent starvation, quell unrest, and secure political loyalty. While framed as benevolence, it had a manipulative edge.
Emperors and politicians used it to "bait" the populace into compliance, ensuring the plebs urbana remained dependent on the state rather than revolting or demanding systemic change. Juvenal’s "bread and circuses" critique highlights this: the dole wasn’t just aid—it was a tool to distract and pacify, masking deeper governance issues.
Dolus (Deceit): Dolus, borrowed from Greek dolos (trickery), means "deceit" or "fraud" in Latin, often with intentional malice (dolus malus).
Conceptual Link: The connection lies in the idea of manipulation. The dole can be seen as a form of dolus on a societal scale: a deceptive lure disguised as generosity.
Etymological and Linguistic Connection Roman Dole (Welfare): The Roman system itself isn’t called dolus or dole in Latin—terms like frumentum (grain) or annona (yearly supply) apply.
Dolus (from Greek Dolos): Dolus entered Latin from Greek dolos (Strong’s G1388), meaning "deceit" or "craft." Both trace to a Proto-Indo-European root like dol- or del- (to trick or harm), with dolos tied to baiting or ensnaring and dolus formalized in Roman legal contexts.
Final Analysis
Etymological Limit: Linguistically, there’s no overlap. Dolus (deceit) adapts Greek dolos, while the dole’s Roman terms (annona, etc.) and English "dole" (dāl) follow separate paths.
Synthesis: The dole embodies dolus in practice, if not in name. It’s a Roman welfare system with a deceptive twist—feeding the body to control the mind—echoing dolos’s Greek cunning adapted into Latin dolus. English "dole" inherits the welfare idea but not the deceit connotation directly, though its Roman roots carry that shadow.
In essence, the Roman dole and dolus connect through a strategic guise: welfare as a trick to maintain power, a concept rooted in dolos and refined in dolus, even if their words never merged.
Dolus (Deceit): Dolus, borrowed from Greek dolos (trickery), means "deceit" or "fraud" in Latin, often with intentional malice (dolus malus).
In Roman law, it described deliberate deception, like falsifying a contract or misleading someone for gain.
Philosophically, it’s the opposite of good faith (bona fides). The term evokes a calculated act—setting a trap or luring someone under false pretenses.
Conceptual Link: The connection lies in the idea of manipulation. The dole can be seen as a form of dolus on a societal scale: a deceptive lure disguised as generosity.
By providing free grain, Roman leaders "tricked" citizens into a state of dependence, undermining their autonomy while appearing as benefactors. The dole wasn’t a lie outright, but its intent—to control rather than empower—aligns with dolus’s essence of guile.
For example, Julius Caesar reduced the dole rolls from 320,000 to 150,000 (around 46 BCE) not out of fiscal prudence alone but to tighten political leverage, a cunning move.
Similarly, lavish games funded by the dole’s overseers (e.g., emperors or aediles) distracted from grain shortages or corruption—deceit through spectacle. Thus, the dole could be interpreted as a "bait" (dolos’s original trap-like sense) to secure power, cloaked as welfare.
Etymological and Linguistic Connection Roman Dole (Welfare): The Roman system itself isn’t called dolus or dole in Latin—terms like frumentum (grain) or annona (yearly supply) apply.
The English "dole" comes from Old English dāl ("portion"), a Germanic root (dailiz, "division"), not Latin. However, its modern welfare meaning was influenced by historical parallels to Rome’s grain handouts, a cultural memory rather than a direct Latin borrowing. No Roman word "dole" exists; the link is conceptual, not lexical.
Dolus (from Greek Dolos): Dolus entered Latin from Greek dolos (Strong’s G1388), meaning "deceit" or "craft." Both trace to a Proto-Indo-European root like dol- or del- (to trick or harm), with dolos tied to baiting or ensnaring and dolus formalized in Roman legal contexts.
The adaptation from Greek to Latin reflects Rome’s linguistic borrowing dnguistic Disconnect: There’s no direct etymuring Hellenization (post-3rd century BCE).
Liological tie between dolus and the Roman welfare system’s terminology (frumentum, annona).
Nor does English "dole" derive from dolus—its Germanic origin (dāl) is unrelated to dol- (deceit). Any connection is indirect: dolus as a word for trickery could describe the dole’s political strategy, but they don’t share a root.
The phonetic similarity between "dole" and dolus is coincidental, amplified by English adopting "dole" for welfare while dolus stayed in legal spheres (e.g., "duplicity").
Final Analysis
Conceptual Bridge: The Roman dole and dolus intersect in their shared undercurrent of deception. The dole, while a real provision, was a guileful tool (dolus) to manipulate the masses—bread as bait, much like dolos’s trap imagery.
Politicians wielded it to deceive citizens into passivity, aligning with dolus’s meaning of intentional fraud. This isn’t a stretch: Roman sources like Cicero (De Officiis) critique leaders who use gifts to mask ambition, hinting at dole-like tactics as deceitful.
Etymological Limit: Linguistically, there’s no overlap. Dolus (deceit) adapts Greek dolos, while the dole’s Roman terms (annona, etc.) and English "dole" (dāl) follow separate paths.
The connection is historical and thematic, not lexical.
Synthesis: The dole embodies dolus in practice, if not in name. It’s a Roman welfare system with a deceptive twist—feeding the body to control the mind—echoing dolos’s Greek cunning adapted into Latin dolus. English "dole" inherits the welfare idea but not the deceit connotation directly, though its Roman roots carry that shadow.
In essence, the Roman dole and dolus connect through a strategic guise: welfare as a trick to maintain power, a concept rooted in dolos and refined in dolus, even if their words never merged.
The Spanish verb doler comes from the Latin verb dolēre.
Latin Dolēre Meaning: Dolēre is a second-conjugation Latin verb meaning "to feel pain," "to suffer," or "to grieve."
Forms: Present indicative includes doleō (I hurt), dolēs (you hurt), dolet (he/she/it hurts), etc. Infinitive: dolēre.
Root: Likely from Proto-Indo-European dhel- or dol- ("to suffer" or "to wound").
Latin Dolēre Meaning: Dolēre is a second-conjugation Latin verb meaning "to feel pain," "to suffer," or "to grieve."
It’s used for both physical and emotional pain (e.g., doleo de perdita patria – "I grieve over my lost homeland").
Forms: Present indicative includes doleō (I hurt), dolēs (you hurt), dolet (he/she/it hurts), etc. Infinitive: dolēre.
Root: Likely from Proto-Indo-European dhel- or dol- ("to suffer" or "to wound").
And in conclusion I see a strong conceptual meaning and connection with dolores and the doldrums
Etymology: From Old English dol ("dull" or "stupid"), Proto-Germanic dulaz ("foolish"), PIE dheu̯el- ("to dim" or "cloud"). Coined around 1800, possibly with a nod to "tantrum."
Dolōrēs:Meaning: Plural of dolor, Latin for "pain," "sorrow," or "anguish" (e.g., dolōrēs corporis – "pains of the body").
Etymology: From dolēre ("to hurt"), Proto-Indo-European dhel- or dol- ("to suffer" or "to wound"). Root of Spanish dolor, French douleur, etc.
Conceptual ConnectionShared Theme of Suffering:
Doldrums: Describes a mental or physical standstill—sailors trapped by calm winds, minds dulled by boredom, spirits sinking into melancholy. It’s not acute pain but a slow, dreary affliction, akin to emotional exhaustion.
Dolōrēs: Encompasses pains, both sharp (injury) and lingering (grief). Cicero uses it for heartache (dolōrēs animi), paralleling the doldrums’ psychological weight.
Dolōrēs: Encompasses pains, both sharp (injury) and lingering (grief). Cicero uses it for heartache (dolōrēs animi), paralleling the doldrums’ psychological weight.
Link: Both evoke a burden—doldrums as a passive, numbing suffering, dolōrēs as active pain. A sailor in the doldrums might feel dolōrēs from despair, connecting the two experientially. Imagine Virgil’s Aeneas, stalled at sea, lamenting dolōrēs (Aeneid 1.5, "multos dolores"), akin to a doldrums-like funk.
Stagnation and Pain:In the doldrums, progress halts—ships don’t move, hope fades.
This inertia mirrors the paralysis pain (dolōrēs) can inflict—physical (immobility from injury) or emotional (grief freezing action). Psalm 38:2 (Latin Vulgate, dolores mei)—"my pains hold me"—feels doldrums-esque.
Metaphorical Overlap: The nautical doldrums’ "dullness" (dol) could poetically align with dolōrēs’ "sorrow"—a dull ache of the soul. Both suggest a state you endure, not escape easily.
Conceptual: A strong case—doldrums’ listless gloom aligns with dolōrēs’ lingering pain. A sailor’s cry of dolōrēs in the windless tropics could birth a doldrums-like mood. The dull ache of inactivity feels like a cousin to Latin sorrow.
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