Tag : jesus
Tag : jesus
Watching America and the world, you could ask “how fictional is it?” In the below video I read a short section, and I hope you enjoy!…
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This writer has awakened with a sense of urgency – more than the usual “S.O.U.” that I experience through all of my waking moments and even in sparse sleep. There is the heightening sensation of falling barometric pressure while the earth below my feet feels as flimsy as a dollar store sky.
All colorful prose aside: Storm Troopers we must rally and now! While so many millions may be feeling the profound atmospheric changes, so many more millions are not. Yes, these changes many are feeling, but many, many more will be left reeling. The Riders on the Storm wear many masks and emanate many fronts, but it is up to us the Troopers to pull away the masks and expose what truth we can. And likewise, it is up to us to share the truth that saves…
The Storm is multi-faceted and highly dynamic. While it is manifesting itself in the Natural, its origins are in the Spiritual. On this tempest, hunger and strife are coming as the architectural pride of American man is smashed with the ease of a child’s foot on the roof of a Lego house. Lobster tails and Filet Mignon will be picked apart by scavenging crows as Spam and Spaghetti O’s become highly sought after delicacies – enjoyed by those who had the foresight to stock-up and store them before the worst came – and it is almost here.
The Storm is blizzard, hurricane, and earthquake. It is an oily Tsunami where blue-helmeted interlopers say they have come to help evacuate, but in truth their goal is to indoctrinate and mutilate. Beware those in unfamiliar garb who claim to be in an official capacity. These are other Riders on the Storm, who don’t tell lies and foment radical agendas on your television, but instead implement the lies and clear the beaches for the agendas. Troopers, as you stand in the gap you must be aware of these serpents and know the squirming brains under the helmets and grinning faces behind the masks.
Troopers, beware of rising kings who sit on tinfoil thrones and impart flaming decrees. As the winds become furious in the summer’s twilight, the Riders on the Storm will deliver lies packaged as “aid” and it will be up to us to diffuse these packages so as to prevent them from doing great harm.
Lies and deception through recession then depression. Deconstruction through destruction. We the Storm Troopers will have to be truth-tellers and bringers of comfort in the crisis.
Storm Troopers, we must rally and add to our numbers. Courage is needed now as every day will see increasingly inclement weather as the summer that isn’t melts into an autumn of tumult. The liars own so much of the information broadcasting systems and it is incumbent upon us to bring the truth. We are to clear the pathways of snow and bring light into the 36 hour night. In this, strong and honest leaders must rise and lead by living the Word of our Lord.
It has begun and the most difficult days are to come. Are we ready? Do you feel the call to be a Storm Trooper? How is the Holy Spirit moving your heart and soul today?
Pray hard, stand tall, and do not be given over to a spirit of fear.
Even so, come quickly Lord Jesus!
Categories: Storm Watch - World Events
*A blog written by Jared; one of the many minor yet notable characters who appear in the novel The Wayfarers: Revised Edition
Oh…ow…man, this is serious. My head is really killing me again, and everybody says I need to get it checked out. But I can’t afford the government healthcare, and I really can’t afford to see a doctor. Even with the headaches and blurry vision, I’d rather be on the road with my band Coffee with Isaiah, but instead I’m pulling the night shift as a cook in my mom’s diner. Ah, this job is money…more than the band makes. Dude, you know it’s hard to make money in a Christian rock band; especially if you don’t sound like the “God-approved” worship faves like Hillsong, Third Day, Michael W. Smith, or Casting Crowns. Man, those bands are so formatted, predictable, and boring! But hey, at least I’ve got a Soul Patch and various tats, so I’ve got the hip look goin’ on!
I’m a purveyor of fine pancakes and a sausage slinger. I bust out the bacon and hash-up the home fries. Yup, I wing the waffles and prepare omelets to ogle. I am the Sultan of Short-order Cooking and that keeps me off the streets – but yeah, I’d rather be out on the road.
I don’t get many days off as mom needs my help. Even though mom owns this blessed greasy spoon, she’ll often pull the night shift with me as the waitress, being that she got used to being a night owl before coming to the Lord. He saved her soul and her earthly life – as she was all about sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll. After nearly dying from alcohol poisoning, Jesus restored her and gave her direction and ambition, and that resulted in owning a diner of all things! She raised me without the man who served as the sperm donor, er, I mean the deadbeat who is my biological father.
It’s our regulars who keep us in business – maybe because our food keeps them regular, ha-ha! But man, times are like so tough, ya know! Denny’s and Friendly’s have the name, the décor, and the expansive menus, but we are Spirit-driven and have the personal touch. And, I can cook circles around anyone they’ve got in their kitchens! Our portions are bigger and our prices are lower. Still, it seems like more and more folks would rather support the chain restaurants and that is slowly killing us. Such are the times in this fallen world.
We’re open 24/7, and we’ll serve you anything on our menu at any time of day – burgers, gravy fries, cheese steak sandwiches, the aforementioned breakfast items, and all kinds of good grindage – even salads for you health-nuts that insist on eating rabbit food. But, if you want the biggest and best portions, you’ve got to come in between 10 P.M. and 6 A.M.
We get some interesting folks in here, like this guy who just came in who looks like Morgan Freeman rockin’ dreadlocks.
Hey mom, order’s up!
Who’s partaking of this “good grindage” and who’s cooking it? Read The Wayfarers: Revised Edition
On Monday, March 5th 2012, Barack Obama and Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu will convene at the White House to discuss how to deal with the pesky Iranian nuclear problem.
Israeli officials say Netanyahu’s visit to Washington is not a social call, but instead to press the U.S. President to more vigorously declare “red lines” that Iran must not cross in its nuclear program, even as speculation mounts that the Jewish state could act militarily on its own in coming months.
Obama has stated in the past that “all options are on the table” in regards to dealing with the rogue Iranian nuclear program, but Netanyahu does not feel as though he can rely on the American president to deal with this threat; a threat not only to Israel but to the entire world. In that, Israeli officials believe that the window will soon close for effective strikes on Iran’s nuke facilities as the nation begins to bury them further underground.
Israel must protect herself, even though strikes on the Iranian sites may only set that nation’s development of nuclear weapons back and not eliminate it. Still, Israel is between a rock and a hard place, and what many Americans don’t realize is that they are as well.
Times are tough in America and they will grow more arduous. Gasoline prices are too high and they haven’t yet reached the pinnacle of their ascent. The civil war that is currently taking place in Syria and what may come with Israel and Iran will directly effect America and the rest of the world. Despite our interwebs, Smartphones, and seemingly never-ending technological advances, we in the U.S. could be on the verge of twenty-first century stone age; and not like that of the modern stone age family The Flintstones.
The tentacles of Iran’s potential retaliation reach Europe and the U.S. Iran may already possess the ability to launch an EMP attack on America, which would include eliminating our ability to communicate by phone and internet as well as knocking out our electrical grids.
No matter how hard it is or how hard it gets, don’t ever lose hope. If you are reading this blog entry than most assuredly we have not suffered through any colossal events. We are entering a time of great change and growing strife as the world heads toward the Great Tribulation. We do not have a speedometer to measure our speed, but as we see the blur of events passing by our window to the world, we can know that we are moving expeditiously.
While there are many options on the table today, we know that there is a choice we can make that will set us free. He is the hope that we will never lose. He is Jesus.
It’s only the size of a pinhole, but as we walk along the rock and debris-strewn floor of this life’s tunnel we can see it if we keep looking forward. If we keep walking, it will grow larger and brighter, but it seems as though the light at the end is so very far ahead.
It is dank, dark, and damp down here, and we find ourselves tripping over chunks of concrete, automobile tires, and items that cannot be identified in the low light conditions. Our feet are wet from having to wade through puddles of stagnant water that exude the malodorous airs of rotting moss and raw sewage.
We’ve suffered loss in life because we took chances, and it was those chances that served as soft spots in the ground that allowed us to fall through the path less traveled. While we pursued something different, there are many that we know who followed the prescribed path and today they walk in the light on the firm ground above us, seemingly secure because they “did what they had to do.”
But how secure are they who did what they had to do and followed that prescribed path? Are they only secure in their minds?
Not everyone down here took a chance and failed…
No, we are not alone in the tunnel. There are the intoxicated and the drug-addicted down here. There are the gamblers who cling to the hope of lotto winnings being the ticket out, and that pursuit becomes an addiction that can’t be satiated. There are the angry who lash out at everything and everyone, and we must keep ourselves girded against them. Some are apoplectic due to the frustration of being forced to walk down here, while others are angry because they are hungover or because haven’t had enough to sufficiently satisfy the addiction.
Down here are the unemployed parents with children who are scarcely fed. Likewise, there are the working poor who rely on government assistance to help keep meat in the pot. As we walk forward with heavy-laden packs on our backs, we notice that the numbers of tunnel walkers is increasing. “Hey, I don’t belong down here” we hear some of them say, as they lament “I worked for that company for thirty years and I don’t deserve this! Where is my promised pension? I paid into it!”
None deserve the tunnel but in 2012 more are falling through the gaps in the quaking earth up top; and not just the ground that makes up the path less traveled. The floor of the tunnel is becoming a path heavily traveled below the so-called “prescribed path”, and as more are forced to walk down here the detritus and wreckage become more prevalent and a greater hazard.
With increasing frequency, we can feel the vibration of heavy equipment and the hear the stomping of the boots of tens of thousands of soldiers above us.
The numbers in the tunnel will continue to grow and the anger and despair will intensify, so we must keep focused on the light. The light is our one, true hope. The light at the end of the tunnel comes from the Bright Morning Star and no matter how hard it is or gets, we must keep focused on Him.
At the end of the tunnel we emerge to a peaceful pathway in the warmth of the sun. The path takes us across a small bridge and we then begin to ascend a winding wooden plank stairway into a lush green forest.
Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. It was faith that got us this far, and that very faith will carry those who can’t walk and invigorate the legs of those who still can.
There is a light at the end of the tunnel. Lord Jesus, we know you’ll come carry us home.