These were the barbarians pouring over open borders of the globalist. Portals had been opened for an invasion, but portals go both ways. And the stronger force was pushing through the canal, spiritually pressing the borderlands back towards that abyss.
She, in her mind’s eye, was back briefly again with the man she had not seen since January of that fateful year…
He grabbed her arm, striped with moonlight between trees still in the cold winter night.
Who is it that the true God seeks?
He seeks the true worshippers. You are one already. Only lies, cloaked dreary darkness, keep us from this realization. We are the true worshippers, and God seeks us. Camouflage yourself not, for these lies are from that which is passing away.
She could taste it then, the glory, tesseracting itself forwards and backwards, up and down.
At least this was what was shown her for a time hiding and slipping among other dimensions, things of glory beyond all earthly delight, visions of rapture, until, lost in the Spirit, she was still again, realizing in her journey she has arrived at a crossroads. The wind blowing sweetly, the birds chirping joyfully, the sun bending its rays upon her wrists, her cup runneth over.
Soon, the faint commotion of a greatful shout alighted upon her ears. She turned to the south gazing through dust, animals, children, palm branches, a crowd moving. They snag past her, moving lightly along the path, singing of dimensions within portals within dimensions of further glory. They sang worthy is the Lamb! He opened the scroll, He has overthrown death, Let us rejoice in this day, be, be glad in it, for we are alive in Him.
Worship in spirit which is forever,
and truth which no power can remove from a heart secured to it.
Praise Him you true worshippers whom God seeks.
He seeks you,
for you are a true worshipper already.
Singing and dancing mightily before the Lord, they let out mighty roars, infernos of God’s abundance began twisting shaky foundations and shattering barriers. They were marked for glory, they seared those not yet marked. For they were fire, ministering flames of fire. What wondrous dances, what sublime praises, what everlasting abundance ever-spiraling creativity. What meekness, what power willfully reigned and channeled in seismic sonic booms of the coming kingdom. The fire was burning, all-consuming and hotter still, the living dead were dead no longer, the living inherited the earth.
At least these were thoughts springing forth from Evelyn’s mind as she went walking and leaping and praising God along the road to Damascus. For it was in these moments, that a hard, cold, ironclad world bent on bitter certainty would be shocked into existence, into its first moments of life in a long, long time. But it was once alive, the earth that is when it was young, new, raw, and full of the assurance of what it was receiving.
A man known to all came stumbling along, shattered by his new form of eternal glory.
The people along the way, turning, caught in their minds briefly darkness of shadows looming in certain paths of the future. They began to fall on their knees and seek the presence of Him who was heavenward. And the Spirit moved among the willing, causing the prophet to reach his message on the other side of fiery destruction.
Prophesy! Prophesy! Speak to us Oh Lord, through your humble servant.