August 27, 2015 admin

A prophetic vision the Lord gave me upon awakening one morning, spring 2015.

The horses of the Lord are forming on the horizon appearing out of the dark and nearly formless deep. Along the horizon one can see their shapes materialize out of the shadows of the darkness. As the forms begin to materialize the ominous silence begins to stir, and wind seems to pick up, like the stirring of the waters across an enormous body of water. The sound and volume increases and excitement begins to enter the consciousness. Fog drifts and swirls and one can almost hear a drumbeat, a roll– or is it thunder? The pulse quickens and expectancy rises in the heart and mind and still the picture sharpens and lightens. Rays of light shaft across the dark, and the vast and mighty army materializes, waiting patiently in silence, though the sound grows and grows until the stillness is nearly deafening. What is about to happen?

 

The quality of the waiting strikes one– it is quiet, it is patient, yet it is filled with focus, and purpose, and intent. The muscles are straining as though held by some great invisible hand. The skies, or eternal distances seem packed, full, as awareness of the air grows and it appears to be impacted with more bodies, more horses, more multitude than there is literally ability of the space to contain. There is more than one army, superimposed upon the other upon the other upon the other as if there is reality upon reality upon reality, more than one can comprehend. What is here, and to do what, is not natural, or possible, or thinkable in the human mind; and still the wind shifts and swirls and gathers, until one senses the direction of the blowing is from here and from opposite here and from there and opposite there. And faintly, distantly, indiscernibly is there the sound of a trumpet?

 

The horses begin to huff their breath, thousands upon thousands upon thousands as bumps chill on the skin and one continues to wait and watch, and the heart beats more and more rapidly. What are these forces, what is this vast, unknowing power? What is this intent? For the vast beyond number is organized, unified and deadly, awaiting orders from an unimaginable Being. And one is rooted to the spot, held by awe, and fear, and breathless anticipation. The spaces of eternity are thick with it.

 

There is a cry rising from the midst of the Body of Christ all over the world. It is a deep cry, unanticipated and undeveloped, rising despite circumstances, despite ideologies or doctrines or opinions, almost involuntary, one that no one understands. Yet it comes, gaining fervor and almost noticed. It is a cry for the Beloved. It is a longing yet to be fully expressed , yearning for the One Who gives existence and breath, the One who sustains us, even when uninvited. This One has hovered and brooded, never flagging, never losing patience, watching and warming with the hot fire of His mouth as these countless thousands begin to respond to the wooing of the One they never knew but only sensed, a sigh, a wind, not even yet a feeling. And so the cry rises, soon to be acknowledged, soon to burst into the realm of consciousness and sound.

 

And as the armies wait in the pulsing silence, the breathless shout for the King makes its way from the created to the Creator/King, and all of creation waits with anticipation for the resulting explosion as the two meet: the Hosts and the King, and the passion of the Saints. Who knows what it will be? Who can imagine what the burst of splendor and power will do? Who can bear it? Who will stand? And still all wait. And the roar of the waiting fills the universe as history and destiny tremble on the brink of something un i a g i n a b le.

 

Look! He advances like the clouds, his chariots come like a whirlwind, his horses are swifter than eagles. Jer. 4:13 NIV

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