Some say they don't exist . . . yet, I know they do.
I have heard them singing loudly, worshipping with heart abandoned. I have watched them weep when Holy Spirit fell upon them. I have seen them working long, hard days to faithfully provide for wife and children. I have admired them as they knelt in earnest prayer, interceding for another. I have noticed them honoring women as fellow members of the royal court who walk in equal giftedness. I have beheld them loving with wild hearts, unafraid to take that love to pubs to streets to distant lands, fearlessly wielding His light against the darkness. I have seen their warrior, fighting selves suddenly turn gentle when a woman's heart is in their hands, treating it as a treasure that needs to be protected.
I have met such princes, knights, and kings . . . and I know that they exist.
Artwork: Praying Knight, unknown
I seek it as my shelter. And I recommend the same to any who need shelter. How strange that feathers are a fortress, but so they are. I am delivered from snares when under here . . . and from terror . . . even from destruction that can turn a life into a wasteland.
And here I hope to keep myself, to make it my home, even. Here, under His wings, where He promises it shall always be a refuge . . . covered by feathers . . . the only place in this world that is truly safe.
Artwork: In the Shadow of Your Wings (c) Daniel F. Gerhartz
www.danielgerhartz.com
There is a snake loose in our nation, a twisting serpent spirit that's trying to twist everything President Trump says or does. It is a battle between darkness and light, and we must pray, Church, for the President that we elected. All hell is in a rage. They scream! They scheme! They cannot stand that Trump won this election and God put His chosen man in place.
They pound their fists against the light, enraged the more that they cannot pound it into dust. But they cannot. Pray! Pray hard, Church. Declare the opposite of what you see. Release truth, and peace, and mercy into our land. Pray protection for our President. Pray wisdom to be given him. Pray that God surrounds him with Daniels and with Josephs. Pray especially for his life and that angels surround him to keep him safe from harm. Cry out! For a great battle is upon us and we must stand and halt the dark.
Artwork: spiritual warfare hands, unknown
"I'm here, I'm here, I'm here!" Do you hear it, mother-dear?
"I'm here, I'm here, I'm here!" Shhh, listen very closely. Can you hear his tiny self reaching out to you? He has a soul . . . he has a beating heart. He wishes you to know that he is there.
"I'm here, I'm here, I'm here!" He hopes to make it out into the world of sun and wind and sky. He wants you to know that, though invisible to you, he is alive. He holds a destiny within his little soul. He is trying, with all his strength, to let you know he has a name. He is not a lump of tissue as some would wish you to believe. He is not a glob of cells to be flushed out.
Close your eyes, quiet your soul, and listen . . . "I'm here, I'm here, I'm here!"
Photograph: unborn baby, fetus, unknown
"Stupid, stupid humans! We've done it! We've gots them now, haven'ts we? Right where we wants them? Look at them fights and bites and tear at ones another. Such a sweetsy thing to see!"
"Yes, but not enough. They must destroy each other. Release Chaos in the land. He is very powerful and should do the job."
"Chaos? Ooohhh, Chaos is a nasty ones. Good! Good! We can'ts wait to see Chaos come! Make those stupid humans devour each others. Hee-hee, spits and gnaws and claws! Humans are so easy, easy-peasy to divide. Namesy-calling blind ones. Blind as batsies! See them hates each other!"
"We need to keep them in the dark for Chaos to reign."
"Yes, yes sir, we wills. We will keeps them blind as batsies! Hee-hee, cover their hearts, cover their eyes, no seeing light, no hopes, no truths. We wills!"
Artwork: Dante and Virgil in Hell by William Bouguereau
It's awake. It is, truly! It is breathing again - large, gulping breaths. And to think I believed that dream was dead, never to awaken. But here it is, as pulsing with life as the first moment it landed in my heart.
His Spirit whispered hope into me so quietly that I did not know it. He brought forth life from what was buried in a grave: bones, dry and dead and quite forgotten. And I was surprised to feel a stirring deep within. I was astonished when I recognized its joyful presence.
I thought it was forever dead. Yet here it is, a dream alive again!
Artwork: resurrecting from the dead, unknown
