In the Middle of the Ruins

I told you that you would find them. Right there in the middle of the ruins – at least what you believed were the ruins of your life. Flowers growing where you thought they would never grow again. A green sprig of hope . . . a strong stem of faith . . . a vivid blossom of joy. Ready for you to gather with a fresh new purpose.

You didn’t wish to return to that plot of land again. I know you didn’t. You insisted that place has only ruins on it, ugly rubble that reminds you of the loss. But the One who knows you best of all, knew differently. Beneath the broken rubble on that scarred plot of land is right where you would find your healing.  

He’s not called the Creator of all things for no reason, you know. With Him, life springs up even out of ruins.

Artwork: Among the Ruins by Lawrence Alma-Tadema

The Only Road

There is only one road that leads to heaven - it is narrow and not very crowded. It is the only way that the Creator of the universe allowed us, and, try as we might, we mere humans cannot enter heaven any other way. Some don’t like that thought. Some get quite angry at it. How strange that those who don't wish to have a relationship with Jesus, in fact do not even believe in Him, would yet believe that there could be a heaven and they are angry that they might not be allowed in by some other route.

Some other route, do you say? . . . there is but one small problem with that – Jesus is the only road that leads through the gates. Humanity may rage and stomp and be as incensed as they wish, but any other road they take does not lead to heaven. It may lead them to a more self-fulfilled life (though I am not convinced that fulfilling “self” is actually very satisfying) but when their life is over their fulfilled-self will be cut off forever from the One whose presence on this earth is what gave it any kind of beauty.

There is only one way, only one road, because there is only one Jesus.

Photograph: Road through meadow, unknown 

Pain That Claws

They weep for children lost, for bairns that were not allowed one breath of sun-filled air. They weep profusely now—but then? Then, with understanding darkened, it was they who chose the knife. It was they who chose to end the life within that held such promise . . . but now they weep.

No one told them that such pain awaited them, pain that claws into the soul. No one told them of the consequence that comes when mothers-dear end the life that they were meant to nurture. But it comes. It always comes eventually. Their conscience will not have it any other way.

If only they'd been told the truth.

Artwork: Rachel Weeping For Her Children © Stephen Gjertson
https://stephengjertsongalleries.com/

Because of Love

She was sixteen, a gentle thing. She came to know the One who loved her more than life. From that moment on she chose to follow Him, this one called Christ. But there was a problem. She had to tell her parents of this love. They were Muslims living in the Middle East and Islam does not allow for such a love, has never known such love and cannot comprehend it.

Her parents thought that they could beat it out of her, this love that gripped her soul. They tried. They kept her in her room for days, starving her between the beatings. But she would not recant – for she knew a love far greater than the temporary pain. And then she died.

Why did they kill her? Because of hate. Why did she not succumb and renounce her Christ? Because of love. Scream, abuse, deride, condemn – it is all for naught if Christ’s love has firmly gripped a heart. Love is the great combatant and the tyrants of this world well know it . . . Christ is their greatest fear.

Artwork: St. Veronica by Paul Delaroche

A Foretelling Dream

I had a dream in September 2019 before Covid happened. I’ve had prophetic dreams before, but sometimes I don’t know what they mean until they happen. This was such a dream:

I was walking through a mall with a man. A woman stopped me as the man walked on. She was very urgent as she told me that I needed to get two shots and she had syringes with her. The 1st shot would make me miscarriage whatever I may have in me and the 2nd shot would sterilize me so that I never get pregnant in the future. I told her, “No.” The scene changed and I was in a living room in a house and the man was also there. The same woman was there but now had a second woman with her. The second woman had the man mesmerized. I tried to get his attention but he wouldn’t listen to me, he only stared, transfixed, at the second woman as she was talking to him. The first woman again tried to get me to get the 2 shots. I again said, “No!” which made both women angry. I walked down the hall to a bedroom and locked the door and the woman was outside the door unable to get in to where I was.

I now understand the meaning of the dream: 

The shots were a foretelling of the double-shot vax that is being pushed upon everyone. There are now whistleblower nurses and med staff speaking about the steep increase of miscarriages in women who get the jab, and the spike protein is now proven to be building up in the ovaries of the females who get it, young and old alike, and doctors say they have no clue what that might do to women’s fertility. The woman represents the Jezebel spirit that always uses intimidation to control and that uses her wiles to trap weak leadership (represented by the man) to do what she wants. The bedroom I locked myself away in, where the woman could not enter, represents being in the secret place of the Most High God. As Christians, if we remain close to God in the secret place, under His shadow, we’ll be safe from the intimidation and schemes of that evil spirit.

For them who have ears to hear, let them hear.

Photograph: woman holding syringe, unknown

More Undignified Than This

I shall dance, though many in the church do not. I shall dance, though there are denominations who frown upon such things. When worshiping Him who His best above all, I cannot help but spin and stomp and lift my hands in dear devotion. 

I shall yet become even more undignified than this. I shall dance upon the heads of demons. I shall dance beside the angels. I shall dance beneath His wings where His shadow falls upon me. 

Into the streets I’ll dance without a care of who looks on. I’ve been in churches where they are serious and pious-minded, where hands stay close to sides and voices barely whisper out His praise. But that is not for me. I shall roar out His name . . . and I shall dance! 

Artwork: Music by Elihu Vedder

Little god-box

So that is where you keep him. I have always wondered where your little god is kept – it is in your little god-box. And now and then you let him out. Now and then you allow him to do what he desires as long as he promises to be good. If not, away with him back into the box!

But I do not know this little god of yours . . . Who is he? He is not the God I serve. My God is furiously noble, wildly powerful and glorious in all His brilliance. He could never be contained in a god-box, bible-box, or any kind of box for that matter. My God is the great and mighty One who is beyond all imagination.

Tut-tut now, close the box. Tuck him quietly away until another day when it pleases you to pull him out. After all your little god is there to keep you comfortable, isn’t he? Take comfort then that your god-box safely holds your little god.

Artwork: Psyche Opening the Box by John William Waterhouse

No Longer Lambs

It is time to "Rise and rise again, until lambs become lions." The Lord is speaking to His ekklesia in these end of days . . . this is our motto - remember it!

Jesus came the first time as a lamb to bring redemption. He's returning as the Lion of Judah to bring judgment. We, too, must now become lions and stand with the great Lion himself.

Do not be afraid - the Spirit fills you with His strength. Do not be silent - there is a roar inside of you trying to come out. A sound like thundering waters is readying to be released. It is the sound of millions of lions roaring all at once. We are an army of lions now . . . no longer lambs . . . let the transformation be complete!

Artwork: Lambs become Lions, unknown

Burned by Such a Flame

The days are darkening. Twilight has fallen lightly but it is soon to pass and darkness deep and troublesome will take its place. And that is when His Glory rises best and shines the brightest – in the deep of darkness! 

I feel the fire stirred within me, a thing that blazes in my eyes, a passion for the lovely One who’s faithful even when I have wearily lost my faith. It is this love that causes hardened hearts to soften as melted butter in a flame. 

I do not mind being burned by such a flame, for I am softer for it and I glow the brighter soaking in such Glory. Religion carries with it no heat of any kind – cold and dreary are its halls, and hearts wane weak and thin when nourished on its food. Christ does not live in such a place . . . and nor shall I. 

Artwork: Resurgam by Sir Frank Dicksee

Glory Rising

So many in the faith do not recognize the times that we are in. They only see destruction, and gloom is in their visage - end times, apostasy, and death! They do not see the Glory that is rising. It rises yet. Brighter than the darkness this Glory even now transcends above all else. The name of Christ is rumbling through the heavens and the darkness trembles at the sound.

Such Glory fills these earthen vessels that we are, a fragile broken-hearted people that have been saved by love. Such Glory shall yet raise the dead and in the western nations we shall finally hear the shouts of blind-men given sight and lame-men given back their legs. In third world nations such things are common. In this faith they are far richer, for unbelief does not grip their hearts as it does ours. But God's Glory cannot be bound and there are a hidden people who even now can call this Glory down and soon they will come forth! 

Artwork: Resurrection (detail) by Rembrandt

An Angel With One Wing

An angel with one wing - that would be me if I were an angel. Crippled, sometimes failing, never perfect, but always trying to fly straight . . . yes, that is me. I admit to it. I am one of Jesus’ imperfect followers. He is my crutch. I am not ashamed to say it. I could not walk, let alone run, without Him holding me up. I’ve not the wisdom to plan my life out and to actually go in the right direction without His hand guiding me. 

I drink wine (Legalists beware of me!). I dance when worshipping Him (Protestants close your eyes!). I do not believe I need a priest to confess my sins (Catholics, I am sorry). 

I am me. An ally of liberty, staunchly opposed to pointless rules that some think prove my righteousness, a lover of the Beloved One, and a flawed earthen vessel that surprisingly doesn’t explode when filled with His Glory. 

Yes, that about sums it up . . . I’m an angel with only one wing.

Artwork: Sleeper Lost in Dreams © 2008 James Christensen 

http://www.greenwichworkshop.com/christensen/

Flowers Growing Where they Shouldn't

They cannot resist, you know. When they pass by your garden the fragrance beckons them – for He dwells there and a wild loveliness has taken over. They cannot resist stopping for a moment, those in the rushing world who have no garden of their own. And every time they pass your garden they will breathe in deep and yearn for what is growing there.

It is not an orderly, neat and tidy, all-things-in-a-row type of garden that Jesus has cultivated. Oh, no, that will not do for Him! It is a boisterous, flowers-growing-where-they-shouldn’t type of garden; it is an unpredictable, never-knowing-what-will-pop-up-next type of garden; it is an audacious, blooming-even-in-the-winter type of garden.

How sad that all in the church do not possess such a plot of land. Perhaps they should invite Him in to cultivate their garden.

Artwork: Flowers by Jessie Wilcox-Smith

He Fell Hard

He fell. He was most beautiful, the loveliest among the angels. He was the keeper of the song, chief musician extraordinaire with gemstones on his brow. He commanded legions of the heavenly powers and they did his bidding well . . . so well, that they followed him in the fall.

Charmer, deceiver, attempted usurper of the heavenly crown – his name once was Lucifer, once was a fair name. No more. Now he wages war against all creation and a bloody battlefield it is, for he has lost his sting and it enrages him.

“I saw satan fall like lightning from heaven!” so said Christ. And he fell hard.

Artwork: Falling Star by Witold Pruszkowski

The Crustiness Still Clinging

It is a hidden work. Do not be discouraged when someone cannot see it. Those who judge according to the flesh (what they see) instead of by the Spirit (what God sees) do not have the correct eyes to see you.

"But I am wrongly judged!" I hear your sad lament. T'is true. While one sees the crustiness still clinging to you, another sees the acting out brought on by pain; neither sees the heart within.

But some of us have eyes to see the hidden - and what a change is happening! What a pushing, stretching, magnificent metamorphosis that God is doing. Do not worry. One day all will see it when you take flight with lovely wings.

Photograph: Cocoon unknown

It All Begins With Seeing

What matters is what you see.  Ask to see - higher, clearer, deeper, more.  Ask Him for His eyes.

You can see into the hearts of men with His eyes. You can see what can be. You can see things that are not as if they are . . . and then you can call them forth. It all begins with seeing.

Photograph: eye, unknown

Blinding!

"Look how he shines!"

"Yes, it is one who is willing."

"Who is willing?"

"Yes, willing to give all. Only those who are willing to let go of all that this world offers can shine so bright."

"It is nearly blinding!"

"They are the feared ones, for they hold on to nothing that may stop the flow of glory from the throne."

"And the enemy sees this light?"

"Oh, yes, as do we.  But men do not. It cannot be seen with natural eyes."

"Astounding!"

Photograph: Man Shining in Cave, Unknown

Setting Out the Light

There, I’ve lit it. And now I shall put it in the window. They'll see it. I know that they will see it! And they'll come. First one, then two: a straggler from out of the dark, a wounded one with child; then three, then four: souls tired of the night, weary of stumbling down the path without a light.

I'm ready for them! I have piles of comfort, various kindnesses, joy, hope, and, of course, an endless supply of love. I have all that He has given me, enough to tend a multitude that might come tramping through the dark.

Ohhh, this setting-out-the-light is my favorite thing to do!

Artwork: Lantern's Warmth © Daniel Gerhartz
http://www.danielgerhartz.com/

It Doesn't Fit Our isms

“That little thing says it is one of us,” said the regal rooster, looking down his beak at the little thing.

“One of us?” said the fat hen in her high-pitched tremor. “CLUCK, cluck, no, no, no…I don’t think so.”

“It doesn’t look like one of us!” sniffed the Banty with her beak in the air.

“It doesn’t act like one of us!” clucked the fat hen, shaking her oh so lovely comb in disapproval. “No, indeed, it doesn’t think like us either. CLUCK, cluck, no, no, no.”

“What to do? What to do?” bemoaned the Banty, nervously twitching her feathers. “How can we let that silly thing in the hen house?”

“We can’t,” answered the rooster, lifting his royal brow, “it doesn’t fit our –isms. It’s rebellious.”

“It doesn’t fit my Catholic-ism,” said the fat hen.

“Ack! And certainly not my pentacostal-ism,” said the Banty.

“Or my conservative protestant-ism,” the rooster said with scorn.

“I don’t think it follows any –ism at all! Ack!” shrieked the Banty. “What to do? What to do?”

“It’s such a simple little thing,” laughed the fat hen. “It says it doesn’t need an –ism. Imagine that! How impertinent!”

And they clucked and gaggled and gossiped and groaned about the little thing that said it followed HIM but with a freedom that was impertinent (said the fat hen!), and with a joy that was silly (said the Banty!), and with a uniqueness that was rebellious (said the rooster!) . . . and He who made the little thing smiled at it and told it to follow Him as they pushed it out of the hen house. 

Artwork: Birds of a Feather Flock Together © Scott Gustafson 
http://www.scottgustafson.com/

GOD Happened

The whole world will one day ask - How did it happen?

. . . How did President Trump get re-elected and serve a second four-year term?

How did the DOJ, FBI, and CIA get cleaned up and justice get restored?

How did all the election fraudsters get caught and thrown in prison?

How did America once again become that city set on a hill and a third Great Awakening begin?

. . . GOD happened.

Artwork: Angels in the Oval Office © Silent Preacher                     https://www.facebook.com/godpalet/

Red Sea Moment

It is a parting-of-the-red-sea moment. Keep watch. Keep ready. For we're about to see a divine rescuing take place. God has a plan for President Trump and a perfect timing in all this.

It is God who rules the raging of the sea; and an obstacle that men cannot overcome, He can overcome with ease. He's about to stretch out His rod . . . and we all know what happened to His enemies when He did.

Artwork: Parting of the Red Sea © Jose Vega                                                     https://www.artofjosevega.com/

The Thunder of their Wings

It is a mighty army that's been called. I feel the air rumbling with the thunder of their wings. Take heart, dear saints, you do not fight alone.

It is a terrible army that shall rout God's enemies from out of the shadows where they hide, where they hoped none would find them; and all their lies and schemes and wicked goings-on in this election shall be undone. And all those pretended 'leaders' of the people that stayed silent in this ruse, those cowardly, money-hungry RINOs, too, shall fall.

For God Most High is not yet done with this dear Nation . . . He has yet another trump card to be played.

Artwork: Army of Angels by Gustave Doré

Angry Principalities

If you could see it, perhaps your heart would faint. If the invisible were seen, perhaps you'd nearly weep. The atmosphere's convulsing with the violence of it. The battle lines are drawn and the enemy is in a rage.

Come now, dear saints, it is not the time to stop your praying. It is your prayers that have brought it to this point. Come now, dear saints! Do you not remember? We do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the dark, angry principalities that fill the skies. Pray hard . . . pray harder yet. This election is in God's hands and God hears His saints.

Photograph: Chaiten Volcano and Storm, unknown

That Welcomed Bit of Light

I told you it would come. I told you if you remained there, ever patient, it would soon alight. And so it has. That small, wing-ed, feathered thing called hope.

The devourers couldn't stop it, though they tried. Though they surrounded it, yammering in their shrill, unpleasant voices, that lovely little thing could not be stopped. That welcomed bit of light daringly flew down and sent that darksome flock to flight.

Ha! Hope is bold, you know. Hope goes wherever Holy Spirit sends it, and neither the prince of darkness nor his evil winglings have the power to keep it from its course. Look up to heaven, now....

Artwork: When Hope Comes © Daniel Gerhartz
https://www.danielgerhartz.com/  

Out Here Alone

Where have the shepherds gone? Why have they left you out here alone? Why don't they gather you into the fold?

Where are your leaders who chase away wolves and bind up your wounds and bring you all safely in?

Where are the pastors who obey first their God and not the arbitrary rules of men?

I see you, dear sheep, some lonely and weak, tempted to fall back into the mire from which you were pulled. And I see the hirelings as they cower in their homes, speaking their platitudes of being good subjects of Governors and bad laws.

But where are the shepherds? I see none in this wood where I stand. Oh, God, raise them up! Raise them up soon. For the darkness approaches and these hirelings'll never do.

Artwork: Sheep in a Forest by Charles Emile Jacque

How Dare You Doubt

Look at you! The sun is coming out and now you wish to dance and sing in the fresh air. We cannot have it! Nay, put on the black cloak of mourning and wear the garment of despair as we do. Take off those joyful clothes that reek of hope and faith and strength! How dare you not believe us when we say that death is everywhere! How dare you doubt our wisdom!

Well, we shall not allow it. You must quit your dancing, do you hear? It's us you must obey.

Come along now. Quiet down and go back inside your house, for the darkness is much safer. It's dangerous for you to be out here dancing in the sun. You'll regret it if you do. Oh, you dancing ones are the hardest ones of all for us to tame.

Artwork: At the First Touch of Winter, Summer Fades Away by Valentine Cameron Prinsep

Align the Sails

It's turning! Some said it could never happen. But here it is, happening. This huge, unwieldy ship we call America is turning and it's course is being changed. It's aiming for that light on the horizon, but there is storm to get through yet. And the winds and waves do not promise to be kind.

Keep praying, church. Keep appealing to heaven for this nation and our President. God placed exactly who He wanted at the helm, and He's standing there beside him. Oohhh, here it goes! Align the sails in that direction, just a little more. Hold on now! Hold on! God is righting us and returning us to the lost markers of our Founders. This ship America will once again yield to a King.

Artwork: At the Helm © Danny Hahlbohm
http://www.dannyhahlbohm.com/

All Our Cages

Freedom is right in front of you and the door is open even. You could just hop out and fly away, but you don't seem to realize you are caged. You're so used to bars around you, dear one, that your prison feels like home. It even feels safe. For many years it's all you've ever known.

Don't you ever wonder what your wings are for? Don't you ever look through those bars at the world outside them, at the grand wide sky where other birds are flying? That is what He made you for, you know. God created you and He formed you . . . and I can guarantee that you were not created for a cage. That is the enemy's doing, as all our cages are. Do not be afraid. Jesus died to open up those doors.

Artwork: Papa, Papa, Tell Me Why, Cage is Open, Bird Don't Fly © Peter Van Straten
http://www.petervanstraten.co.za/  

All Sleeping

"Why are we here?"

"Because He asked us to find one."

"One what?"

"One who is not sleeping."

"But they are all sleeping."

"Not all. There are awake-ones all over the earth. And they know the times and the seasons."

"Oh good! There is hope then."

"There is always hope! Now let us leave these ones to their sleep and go find the one He's asked us to find."

Artwork: Sleeping by Maxfield Parrish

Against the Mighty Lion

Xi Jinping, you cannot win. Like a foolish cub you stand against the mighty Lion of Judah. Jesus Christ is King . . . and you are not.

Christ reigns over all the rulers of the earth. And that includes you.

Flail and fight, small cub, you have found that you are powerless to stop the mighty Lion of heaven. You cannot out-roar him. You have tried. You cannot snatch His precious children from His hands. They only grow in number.

You are defeated, Xi Jinping. His Spirit is the wind that makes His children rise up on wings like eagles. Can you stop the wind from blowing or imprison it? No, you can't.

Jesus reigns forever! . . . and you do not.

Artwork: Lion of Judah © Esther Eunjoo Jun
https://fineartamerica.com/profiles/esthereunjoo-jun

Warring Stance

There you are, warrior-woman, in your warring stance calling heaven down to earth. There you are, gentle-one of mighty faith. No one knows but Abba God what happens in your secret place. Your war room time brings changes to the earth and strength to him you love and serve. Just as he serves you and does his best to be the warrior-man that God has called him to.

The angels hear you as you speak the word of God. All heaven's in agreement when you speak the word and that's when mountains can be lifted.

Pray on, royal daughter of the King! Your voice is heard even in the courts of heaven.

Artwork: Behind Every Great Man © Kevin A. Williams (WAK)
https://www.wak-art.com/

I Can See the Angels

The wide world is before me. An unknown future where boundaries are enlarged and tent pegs are widened. That is what Christ does. He brings a largeness that stretches us: larger vision, larger faith, impossible circumstances. Hah! impossible for us but not for Him.

And if I look very carefully I can see the angels that walk before me. They set things up of which I cannot see - divine appointments, divine provision, help when needed, help when I do not know I need it. We are not alone when we venture into the wide world . . . not those who are his followers.

Artwork: Study for the Cross and the World by Thomas Cole

A Lot of Bodies

100 million is a lot of bodies. 100 million murdered, buried, and quite forgotten over the last century.

"A necessary evil," say the Marxists. "The world will forgive us when we achieve our goal. To create our dreamed utopia we may need to kill one third of the world's population. It can't be helped! Don't blame us! Blame those unwashed masses, those sad deplorables who refuse to allow us to control them the way we think is best. Why, just look at our utopias in Russia, Cuba, and Venezuela. Look at China (but don't look at the prisons heaped with students, artists, Christians, and the like)."

So the Socialists march on in academia, Hollywood and the mainstream press, and in those closed-door backroom deals with socialist politicians in Brussels and the U.S. . . . yes, 100 million is a lot of bodies.

Artwork: The Hill of Slain (c) Ted Nasmith
https://www.tednasmith.com/

The Babe Doth Thank You

Blessed mother, courageous one, who protected the life of your unborn babe now birthed and in your arms. Angels smile upon you, dear, and stand beside to help, for you refused to bow to those who thought your babe should not be born.

You decided life is sacred above all. You said that babe inside your womb is not a chain and ball, is not a threat to happiness nor a hindrance to well-being. In fact, that babe's a joyful song that you were meant to hear. Dear blessed mother that you are, the babe doth thank you . . . and so does God.

Artwork: The Angel and the Mother by Louis Janmot

Revival's Flame

First one. Then two. Then three and four and five . . .

Just like that we'll see it happen - a solitary flame alights another and that second flame lights three more, and so it goes till millions more are brightly lit.

Revival's flame is coming.

Photograph: candlelight, unknown

Change Is Coming

I had a dream . . . I was working at a company and being paid $10/hr. It wasn't enough for my needs and I was about to quit. The owner of the company spoke to me. He said, "Don't quit. A change is coming. Something is going to happen very soon that will cause a huge flood of money to come pouring in and I'll be able to pay you $100/hour." Then I woke up.

What the dream meant . . . Money represents favor in dreams, especially the favor of God. Change is coming (Dutch Sheets also recently prophesied change), a great change that will bring such an outpouring of favor and blessing that an increase of tenfold ($10 to $100) will happen in many areas in the lives of God's children. So don't quit! Keep pressing in. Change is coming.

Artwork: Gold coins by unknown

A Stronghold

"What is that?"
"That is a stronghold."
"A stronghold?"
"Yes, a very old one."
"How long has he been in it?"
"Hmm . . . quite sometime. Years, in fact."
"But doesn't he know that he's captive?"
"No. Humans don't always know what is in their own minds."
"It is a very strong looking stronghold."
"Yes, and it will take a large amount of truth to pull it down."
"And what are we doing?"
"We are helping Holy Spirit by speaking truth to him."
"Then he shall be free?"
"Not immediately, but yes, I think he shall."
"They won't be happy about that."
"No, I dare say they won't. But the Glorious One has a hold on this one and nothing can snatch him out of His hands. Not even them. So, we better get to work."

Photograph: man behind bars, unknown

Your Girl

It is outrageous that a God so high and lifted up would care for such an ordinary soul as mine. But you do. And though I ponder it, I cannot fully understand.

It is not a doctrine that I love nor a religious system that has captured me. It is a Father, dear and perfect, gentle, fierce, and strong.

Praises spring from my mouth as I remember all the deeds that you have ever done. And your thoughts toward me are more than I can count. Who am I that you would love me so? . . . I am your girl, and that is quite enough.

Artwork: God the Father by Leon Frederic

Mr. Hyde

I wanted you to be my hero - my protector, even. But you could not. And I was not strong enough to stand against the rage when you would morph into that Mr. Hyde.

If only I were Wonder Woman I would have been strong enough to stand, to love, to persevere when the tide was proving not to change . . . but Wonder Woman I was not.

I needed Mr. Hyde to go away. Depart. Never dare return again; yet, leave my hero here, so he could cover me like Boaz did to Ruth. But after feet were cut and bleeding by the eggshells I was always walking on, I had to finally be the one to quietly depart. For Mr. Hyde chose not to leave, so I had to be the brave one. And God gave me strength to make the change when my hero found that he could not.

Artwork: angry superhero, angry superman, unknown

Right Before Our Eyes

"Why do they follow him? Why do they choose Jesus?" asks the clerics of Iran.

They pound on doors, imprison Christians, destroy house churches - yet, still, the people turn to Jesus from Islam by the thousands.

So hard-lined cleric Alava, in a speech to other clerics, vowed to find out why. "It's happening right before our eyes!" he lamented. "Mass conversions everywhere! Why are they embracing Christ?"

Dear sirs, do you not know? Jesus is the most beloved of them all. All heaven bows to him, how can we not also? All creation worships him, and so must we. His love cannot be stopped, as you have noticed. There's nothing you can do. Our hearts belong to One much higher than all others and His followers shall only grow.

Artwork: Called by Baron Arild Rosenkrantz

Not a Toy

I had a dream . . . 

I was holding a baby. The baby then turned into a kitten. I had this dream before, and in that prior dream the baby turned into a kitten and then into a doll.

Here is the meaning of the dream. God showed me years ago that the baby represents the prophetic gift. In the church, some treat the prophetic gift as a child treats a kitten or a doll. A child will play with a doll or kitten when they feel like it, when they want to be amused. Then they set it down, bored, only to come back again to play some more when their interest returns.

If we wish an increase in the gifting, it must be taken seriously. Press in, dig deep, take time in His presence and word. It is Father's wish to grow us up into all things - so we can be those who accurately handle and teach the word of truth (2 Tim 2:15). It's not a toy, it's a discerning tool and a strategic weapon for His kingdom.

Artwork: Girl with doll and kitten, unknown

Afraid of Sheep

The Communists in China are afraid of sheep. So President Xi has rounded up their leaders, like Pastor Wang, and sent them off to prison. President Xi is shaking in his boots at what a flock of humble sheep can do.

Sheep can pray revival down - a fire that burns so quickly through a nation that nothing can put the fire out. Communists don't like that kind of fire. Once it gets inside a heart they are helpless against it.

Sheep have a shepherd who heals the sick and raises the dead and gives hope where there is none - and Communists do not. The Party doesn't have a lot to offer and they know it.

Sheep hear their shepherd's voice above all others - a great bone of contention to the Party. But the shepherd doesn't care and he speaks to his sheep anyway and they obey him first of all - because, after all, HE is their Lord, not President Xi.

No matter what the Communists of China do, they can NEVER tear the shepherd out of a sheep's heart.

And it infuriates them.

Photograph: sheep, unknown

The Rain is Coming

Does it look quiet to you, there on your knees? . . . It's Coming.

Do you feel the expectancy, there on your knees? . . . It's Coming.

Is your vision soaring higher, there on your knees? . . . It's Coming!

Do you feel the drops of water falling on your head, there on your knees? . . . IT'S COMING!!!

STRIKE THE GROUND AGAIN . . . it's coming. THE RAIN IS COMING . . . can you see that small cloud? Revival is coming and righteousness is being raised up.

HE . . . IS . . . SENDING . . . RAAAIIINNNN!!!

Photograph: kneeling in prayer, unknown

Shaken Ever Harder

It is a shaking, and holding on will do no good. It is a rumbling and groaning beneath our feet, our little worlds all torn asunder. And He has done it for a purpose.

All is being shaken ever harder: families, homes, the earth and seas, finances, careers and futures. Everything that cannot stand shall fall - so that what remains can stand, simply and honestly before Him. "Shake all of it!" He commands His angels on the earth. "Until the only thing remaining is a childlike faith, for that is all that can be taken into heaven."

And so it has begun.

Artwork: The Angels of Forgiveness (c) Howard David Johnson
http://www.howarddavidjohnson.com/

Build!

Go forth, Israel, and build. Build! Prosper in the land that God gave you. Do not listen to contrary voices - there are many in the world who love you dearly.

Build in Judea, Samaria, and that beautiful Jerusalem, and make it a pleasant place. You are a sovereign nation and so should behave sovereignly. Stand, and let not the leaders of the free world . . . free world? . . . freedom is something hard to find in Britain; freedom is something lost long ago in the EU . . .nevertheless, let not those who lead under the farce of their freedoms bully you into submission.

Brave Israel, you are not alone.

Artwork: Jerusalem by unknown

History Changer

"He is finally here. Such a little thing, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is."

"Will they realize what a gift he is to them?"

"Some will."

"It is incredible to think all the Glory of Himself is in that tiny frame!"

"I know, and that all the government is upon his innocent shoulders."

"Why would God wish to come into the world this way, to become one of them - to feel what they feel and suffer what they suffer? Do they deserve such a compassionate God?"

"Perhaps not. But then it is love that compels him. And this little babe shall show the world who God is . . . and men shall no longer have any excuse."

"He is a history maker!"

"No, he is a history changer." 

Artwork: Little Lamb (c) Jenedy Paige
http://jenedypaigepaintings.blogspot.com

As Brilliantly as Ever

No government or ideology can ever put out that light. Darkness has tried to overpower its seemingly small flame, but has found that it cannot. Communism tried, but failed. Islam wars against it daily, but cannot rip it from the people's hearts. Even ancient Rome lost their long, hard battle to smother it in their hope that just the stench of ash is all that would remain.

Yet, still it shines as brilliantly as ever . . . and it grows, every moment of the day, across the earth. That is why He came, to shine His light upon every man. It is a light that the darkness shall never overcome, as it spreads from heart to heart to heart, on and on and on . . .

Artwork: Jesus' light, unknown