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