Try to Take Over the World

Pinky and the Brain had it right. The goal today is like every day: TRY TO TAKE OVER THE WORLD! For the sake of Christ we go forth with love and humility. Our goal? To take over the world for the one who suffered and died for it.

No half-way commitment will do. No frightened, shriveling soldiers will suffice. No water-downed belief system will carry through. No hard-edged, merciless religion will work. It is His grace, His love, and His power that we must have.

Try to take over the world! Have you ever thought about that? One heart at a time they use to say, but it shall be thousands of hearts at a time now. They shall come pouring into the Kingdom like a flood and we will lay the world at His holy feet.

Artwork: Pinky and the Brain

A Harsh Goddess

Dear little one,

She wants your life. She is a harsh goddess, demanding you be put to death, and the men and women who bow to her are willing to do whatever it is she wants ... and she wants you sacrificed.

He who breathed life into your small self shall one day slay this evil queen, this Jezebel, and pull her from her throne. And all those who worship her shall weep and gnash their teeth to see her fall. But till then, they will continue to kill you little ones to feed their goddess' appetite and they will make war against all of us for the right to do it.

Photo: Baby in the womb sucking thumb, unknown

Shine

Truly, I want my heart to be filled with Your presence and I need the pursuit of You to be what fills my hours. How do I come to that place? I am not certain, but You know. You know everything. 

Change me to be a true replication of Jesus, my precious Savior. I wish to be as beautiful as He is. I wish to shine with the Glory of Father as He does. 

Shine . . . shine . . . shine! That certain something that glows from His eyes must shine from mine.

Artwork: Beata Beatrix by Dante Gabriel Rosseti

He and She

God made her and him. God made man and woman and they fit perfectly together.

He and she. Her and him. Man and woman . . . only two genders were created, a biological design within which are rooted our well-being and our wholeness.

Woe to those who try to stray from His design, for on that path there is a tearing of the soul, and pain, the likes of which they have never known before. And a great lost-ness that will drag them down into a whirlwind of darkness.

He and she. Her and him. Since the dawn of time and evermore, as long as XY chromosomes remain XY.

Artwork: Meeting on the Turret Stairs by Frederick Burton

The Flowers Return

Blessings suddenly come - falling out of heaven into our laps. Such a week I have known, such a week of blessings. I have laughed much this week at the goodness of God and have been astounded at how the heavens can open with a burst and suddenly the dry land is turned into a garden. God sends his mercies down and in a moment everything is turned around - The sun rises, the waters flow, the flowers return, the obstacles fall away, and suddenly God shows himself mighty to save and answers the cries of His children. 

I am privileged to know such a tender Father and honored to be called His own. And today my heart bursts with the blessings that have fallen! 

Artwork: Truly the Light is Sweet by Shaw

The Sound of His Return

I am listening for him, listening for the sound of his return. His voice, his step outside my chamber, I eagerly await. “Come, Lord, come!” my heart cries out as breath is bated and I strain to hear the faintest sound.

I hear so many things as the time of his return approaches. I hear the groaning of the earth beneath the weight of sin that bears upon it. I hear all creation singing praises, quietly, persistently; a sound that even night has not the power to stop. Astounding are the things that can be heard when one takes the time to listen. Let the world rush by, but I shall wait with lamp full lit, eyes wide awake, listening for the footfalls of him whose face I’ve waited long to see. Come, Lord, come!

Artwork: Thisbe by John William Waterhouse

A Light Within

If you journey out into the world the battles promise to be fierce. The world’s ways are not easy, are not pain free. It is dark out there and growing darker . . . but . . . you have a light. Do you not remember? There is a light within that is stronger than the darkness and the darkness cannot overcome it. Fan the flame of your first love for Him.

“Away fear! Fie to grief! Anger you are banished! Death to enemies once too strong for me!”

There you have it. You have not forgotten after all—He is that light.

Artwork: © Greg Call

http://linesandcolors.com/2014/12/07/greg-call/

Most Fierce Opponent

God did not make you so. You were not born for such a life. It was your choice.

Your conscience tried to stop you in it — for many years that precious gift within you, given by a loving God, tried to stop you from this course. But you would not listen to it. You entertained the thoughts, and when thoughts are entertained for years they grow in strength till a stronghold grips the mind that is not broken easily.

And when finally you had killed that God-imprinted conscience, put it sound to sleep, you stepped into that homosexual bond that is a false substitute for what the wounds within are really needing.

It is not Christians that have warred against you — it is that truest friend, yet most fierce opponent of them all . . . your conscience.

Artwork: Nature by Arild Rosenkrantz

An Army of Glorious Truckers

Once long ago there were truckers who rode great shining trucks into battle; a battle where they carried no weapons and courage was solely their armor.

The fight they waged was quite peaceful in their stubborn defiance of a tyrant. And all the world watched the battle progress, and how with bar-b-ques, laughter and dancing they fought.

The tyrant could not take the mocking and angrily called on his minions: the enforcers-of-diktats, cold-hearted cowards (falsely called 'royal') that were willing to trample even old women beneath the hooves of their horses.

It seemed like a one-sided battle. It seemed like freedom was lost . . . but then . . . a miracle suddenly happened that no one expected to see. 

The people began to awaken from sleep, deciding these warriors should not stand alone any longer. By ten thousands and millions they filled every street. Every village and city was crowded. Every highway and byway was crammed. Until the outnumbered enforcers-of-diktats refused to give help to the tyrant and decided instead to stand down. And the dominoes fell 'cross the world as their liberty finally was won.

And here on the hallowed fields of freedom sits that first mighty truck of the convoy. Here sits the old metal steed in her glory for all lovers of freedom to see. And to this very day parents tell the story to their children of that army of glorious truckers, fearless and bold, who caused the thrones of terrible tyrants to come tumbling down.

Artwork: Kenworth Old Workhorse © Stuart Swartz
https://fineartamerica.com/profiles/stuart-swartz

Proclamatory Feet

I feel electricity course through me at His touch. Fear flees and little do I care what men think. Do I dance? Yes, with all my heart and soul till those of timid nature find the boldness to step out.

Come, all who wish to join in the dance, who wish to plunge into the river, who wish to stand beneath the rain and soak in heaven's glory. And darkness will tremble beneath your feet . . . and walls will crash beneath your feet . . . and demons will flee before your stomping, twirling, proclamatory feet!

Leap over those safe little fences round your field that men have built and venture into the wild unknown . . . I know you want to.

Artwork: Spiritual Renewal © 2008 Angela Branigan

https://www.imagekind.com/artists/angelabranigan/all/fine-art-prints/artists/angelabranigan/all/fine-art-prints

Storms Piled Against You

You never thought it would be like this, did you? You thought once you followed Christ it would be calm sailing here on in, gentle waves carrying you softly along, sweet birds singing and all that. But then all hell broke loose – yes, say it like it is, that is exactly what happened. Hell broke loose against you because you suddenly became one of its greatest enemies: A Christ-lover, a Jesus-follower, a cleansed-one. And hell doesn’t much like that.

The storms piled against you with a violence you were not expecting. Nasty storms. Cruel storms. Uncomfortably wet and irritating storms. One right after the other. You thought for certain you would drown . . . but you didn’t! You’re getting your sea-legs after all and I think you will do just fine.

Welcome to the good side!

Artwork: The Great Mishap © 2008 Linda Bergkvist

http://www.furiae.com/

A Great Reset

The Davos group shall be surprised at how correct they were. They said a "Reset" would be coming. They plotted in a thousand different ways to push it forward. They even called it "Great." And they were correct - a Great Reset is soon to happen . . . but not quite like they imagined.

Everything shall truly change - for it is their end that is coming. The time is soon upon us when the Davos group shall be cut off, and those who are part of it shall be brought low. They will grovel and fall to their knees before the One who is Lord of all the rulers of the earth. Lord of them, even.

He is coming sooner than even the church expects, with a powerful army that no earthly army can withstand. And the redeemed who love the Truth (for truth is a person) shall shout with such a great clamor of rejoicing that all eternity shall be filled with the noise. . . ."Praise to Jesus Christ the only begotten Son of God!! For He has come and all creation is redeemed!! And all the earth has quit it's groaning and rejoices with us!!"

Photograph: Raised hands praising, unknown

A Realm that God Created

Who is counterfeiting whom? That is the question of the day. Is not the spirit realm a realm that God created? Some believe that satan rules it, so fearfully they shut down the things of God when they do not understand what is going on.

“Ooh, an angel spoke to him!” some gasp with fear. Yet angels have spoken to man for as long as man has walked the earth. “Right, she said that she saw heaven!” they mock. Uneducated Christian, you must read more! God has been revealing heaven to people for thousands of years – He even has a book that shows such revelation being given.

If Christianity holds any resemblance to New Age it is because the New Age movement has 'borrowed' from Christianity, not the other way around. Dreams, visions, ecstasies, tongues, angels, miracles, signs and wonders, all belong to Christ. And He will use any which one He pleases to communicate with His children who desire to hear from Him. Has no one taught you this? Ahh, now I understand. The fault lay with your teachers.

Artwork: Jeanne d'Arc and the Archangel Michael by Eugene Thirion 

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