When Paint Talks

…and heaven came on earth when no one was expecting.  

it just came down upon us like the rain.  and suddenly we all looked up in unison and saw the Glory of God as He shone His face upon us.  

many could not take in His Beauty for their eyes had long been closed.  but there were a few among us that could see Him.  

and those and the entirety of His Creation,

were blessed beyond all words…

Calm me Lord…

Remind me that Heaven on Earth is soon to come.  

For Jesus, I put all my trust in You.

This moment and all those thereafter.  

Amen ~

The Great Assembling

A movement is underground.  Gentle and steady, a persistent rumbling that oft goes undetected even when barefoot.  Forces are moving us forward dear comrades.  We are being maneuvered by the Heavens into a Divine Constellation.

There are  many among us who have dreamed of such a time and then others still with only vague inklings.  Nonetheless, a handful of souls are being led to a new destination of living.  A mode of life that will manifest the Glory of God.  Whether in small communities or solitary dwellings, a Holy Fraternity will soon appear in ways extraordinary.

Are such stirrings in your heart?

When left to my own device, I dream of hair below my waist and growing organic okra.  Maybe it is for this reason that I become annoyingly exuberant when envisioning communal life.

The pull of harmonious coexistence with God, nature, and man has owned me for some time.  So much in fact that I once laid claim to a 20 acre sanctuary in rural America.  It was a torrid love affair and to this day I tear up in memory.  With a dream of one day offering it up as a refuge for world-weary Christians, it sadly was not meant to be.  The yearning endures, however; and is assuaged by the multitude of prophecies and signs pointing to the New Era community.  

This emergence does not sit well with everyone.  Hushed conversations in back hallways reveal a growing fear of Christian persecution.  Ignited with dread, many are scurrying off to stockpile blankets and canned beans to ensure survival while in hiding.

                                                                                      Please take heart.  

                                                                               The Lord will not fail us!

Truly our cultural exile is fully underway but our Comfort draws near.  Joyfully, some of us will be led to cooperative life amid the Faithful.  This is a time for great celebration as sharing bread and blanket with our brethren will become the norm.  These settlements will bring light to Jesus’ teachings on radical sharing and selfless love.

Ownership will be replaced by true kinship.

Let’s not assume who will be in such places of mercy and grace.  He Who Knows All will extend His Hand and place specific souls together at the proper hour.  As His Children, we need only be attentive and obedient to the promptings of the Holy Spirit within our hearts.

Yet one thing is certain, such settlements will thrive despite the surrounding chaos and decay.  Prayer, fasting, and service to God and others will weave together in a unified rhythm.  The most mundane of tasks will be transformed into a daily, collective offering to Christ.

This is what awaits us sweet Remnant.  We are not to scatter, fleeing for higher ground.  Put your ear to the earth and listen intently for those whisperings that are meant for you and you alone.  Follow those promptings prayerfully and know that not one of us is to be lost or forgotten.

May we  find ourselves living as one in Him very soon.

Until that time, I remain your Comrade in Christ.

Cindy

Triumph in the Fallen Garden

'Child Hiding' photo (c) 2006, D. Sharon Pruitt - license: http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/My father died 11 days ago.

There are no words in any language to describe what it feels like when someone you love dies.  There are also no well-intended platitudes, spiritual rhetoric or flower bouquets to lessen your despair.  You suffer through it like a fly glued to sticky paper.  You writhe, groan, and spasm.

Have you felt true grief before?  If you have, you know exactly what I speak of.  It is life changing.  If you don’t believe me look at the before and after photos of soldiers’ faces from the Iraqi war.  Grief can literally etch itself upon your countenance and impact you at the cellular level.  The physical body screams out in agony.  When you take a breath, you fear you will explode. When you exhale, you wonder if it is the last.  It takes all the sufferings from your past and puts them in a box called Not Grief.  It suddenly casts you into an abyss of alienation from normalcy.

As Christian Soldiers we must find a way to cope with suffering, death, and the resulting grief.  If not, we will become emotionally and spiritually immobilized. Our desperate attempts to quell the pain via drugs, alcohol, sex, money, and food will be of no avail.  We will thrash about in a befuddled state and be of little use to the Remnant Army.  This is exactly what the devil desires.  Don’t let him win; you must embrace your grief.  I mean it.  There is no band-aid for human anguish.  You must honor it, feel it, and allow it to move through your being.  It will hurt like the dickens but you must walk through it.  And therein lies the good news.  You can walk though grief and journey to the other side.

God has a beautiful way of providing us with support during our trial of tears.  Don’t be surprised at how healing may manifest.  It may be predictable in the form of a close friend, pastor, priest, or grief counselor.  On the other hand, God may lead you into the unexpected.  You may find yourself suddenly writing poetry, endlessly sipping tea, stealing cat naps, or hiking alone in the woods.  Allow Jesus to offer you a very personal prescription for recovery.  You are a unique soul and the Lord knows exactly how you best be mended.

It is vital you be patient with your personal response to the loss of a cherished other.  There is no perfect way to grieve.  The moment I learned of my father’s passing, I felt completely cut off from God.  It was horrible.  My daily religious practice simply unraveled with the exception of robotic Church attendance.  I was the woman sobbing in the back pew.  The few words I could squeak out to Jesus were steeped in anger and despair.  Thankfully, my Christian friends immediately came to my aid, offering prayers up for my grief-striken family.  Don’t be shy about asking others to pray for you.  They are a precious gift from God for times such as these.  When you can talk to Jesus, do so.  Be honest with Him.  Jesus knows what you are going through and besides being a Just God, He is also a God of Mercy and Divine Love.

Time can take some of the sting out of death.  However, I have to wonder if the soul ever truly heals from the ravages of human decay and loss.  It is, after all, the gift that keeps on giving per the hands of our enemy.  Yet Jesus can heal even the deepest of wounds.  He provides us with Grace sufficient to rise us up so that we may engage in the battle once again.

My dad was a good man.  I want my remaining days here on earth to be a testimony to his spirit and his life.  His years of suffering from Parkinson’s Disease and final descent into death cannot be the end of the story.  Satan cannot have the final say.  It is in moments like this that we must choose.  We can retreat into misery, isolation, and inertia or pick up our spiritual weaponry and fight the prince of darkness who brought death and suffering to the human race.

Today, I choose to fight for the hour is at hand.

Please join me as the Remnant needs you.

Your Comrade in Christ,

Cindy

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