Written Words

For the Church, she was a prophetess

Here in the Now but seeing the Not Yet.

”Your Kingdom come,” she sings.

”Your Will be done,” she wept.

She lamented for the Church

who failed to heed the Wise

And called out to her God

who, she prayed, heard her cries.

“Help our hearts to be humble.”

”May pride not lead the way.”

”Protect us from ourselves,

let us not be lead astray.”

But she knew what she saw

A reckoning must there be

Either we would humble ourselves

or the Great Humbler He would be.

 

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Dream

I was with a group and we had traveled to a foreign land. It was ancient and beautiful, with stunning vistas. The warm coloring of the late afternoon fell across the giant stone buildings and the surrounding jungle.

A long table was set for a meal, and at the head of the table was a young man. I could see Wisdom on him, and he was so full of it he nearly shown. He then asked us if we believed that a single Westerner would be saved at the end of times… confusion seemed to rise around the table. “Why would they be? Let us look.”

I suddenly felt as if I were watching a movie within myself. I witnessed my country’s treatment of those who are homeless. The hatred towards the soujourner in our land. The neglect of widows and orphans created by an unjust justice system. Starving people left with crumbs by gluttonous, all-consuming machines (“You call them people”), prioritizing their rights over those marginalized within our society.

“Would you call this a fast? An acceptable day to the Lord?”

And I saw the Church, and she was weak and sick, covering herself with makeup and veneers of brands and cheap gimmicks. And she was rejected.

I then began to sense hungry people around us, in the shadows, quietly watching. As if in answer to my question, I hear him say, “You have your feast now, but they will feast in heaven.”