For His Glory

And the hand of the LORD was there upon me; and he said unto me, Arise, go forth into the plain, and I will there talk with thee. Then I arose, and went forth into the plain: and, behold, the glory of the LORD stood there, as the glory which I saw by the river of Chebar: and I fell on my face. Then the Spirit entered into me, and set me upon my feet, and spake with me, and said unto me, Go, shut thyself within thine house. But thou, O son of man, behold, they shall put bands upon thee, and shall bind thee with them, and thou shalt not go out among them: And I will make thy tongue cleave to the roof of thy mouth, that thou shalt be dumb, and shalt not be to them a reprover: for they are a rebellious house. But when I speak with thee, I will open thy mouth, and thou shalt say unto them, Thus saith the Lord GOD; He that heareth, let him hear; and he that forbeareth, let him forbear: for they are a rebellious house.

I find that America is a most interesting place in this season. As was the excitement of hope when Ronald Reagan was sent to safe America, it is an excitement for those who know the dire state of events which are coming for this nation's sins and for the terror attacks stated against her. It is the time of our trouble, Jacob's Trouble, a time born in our loins of epic days when Assyrians skinned our forefathers alive and exiled us into captivity. A time of genocide on our peoples from the Ohio frontier to the waters of the Mississippi.
It is not an ecclesiastical time, so hear and understand that. For the ecclesiastics are those who will be blunted in this time of their dullness.
This is the time of the Evangelist, the Proverb, the Christ child born anew in Him. How blessed it is to partake of the cup of the survivor and the exiled. While our sinful natures lay rotting in the streets, dying from eating their own excrement, the chosen few survived.
The names long forgotten in lore and yet reborn in George Rogers Clarke, Sam Houston, Davy Crockett, George Armstrong Custer, Libby Custer, these are our people for the generation which is, which will see and behold all the wonders and terrors the Prophets were astonished over and wondered about.
What a blessing it is to be the chosen few. The chosen in some may die, some may fall, but some will live. Martyrs for the liberty we are responsible for and victors in Christ in the solemn assembly of those who will hear the trumpet call, the shining of that Christ dawn flashing from east to west, a day of discovery after our nighttime of Tribulation.
I look forward to the mixing of it up. The time to shed the falseness of civilized brutality and enjoin the savage, barbarian and brute upon their own terms and to vanquish them covered in the Shield of our Christ, the Sword of the Presence of our Father and the Consuming Flame of Their Holy Ghost.
How refreshing to be laws unto our selves in God's perfect Law and not enslaved by laws of Congresses who protect the criminal and punish the righteous. To stand there whetted in the night, awaiting the uncertainty, but being certain in our genuine freedom that this is our land and we will live and die as hardsells upon that land no matter the outcome, for this is our American land.
Selah, my family, think of our great peoples reborn again, Richard the Lionhearted, George Washington, arisen in spirit in these times as certain as Elijah in spirit made the crooked ways straight preparing the Way of the Lord. The battle not being ours as we stand in array in the future days, but the battle being the fire of Angels carrying out God's divine plans for His American people once again.
From the shores of the Jordan to our Mississippi coast and Alaskan frontier, this is our time as a peculiar people. How wonderful and blessed to be a race of Americans born to this season and seasoned for these hours, when others crawl into caves to be hidden, we shall stand on our frontiers and expand into that Christ appointed time. "Fear not, for I Am with thee", is the clarion call and while the shaken have the rains of tears of fear, our countenance will shine with the flash of lightning glinting in our eyes from the thunder in our hearts in echoes of the Word of God kept there.
To join our fathers and mothers of long ago in our epic saga from Adam's time to our completion in the last Adam now, we are that chosen people, that brave Spiritual race, that peculiar people who has stood in the mysts and shadows from Agincourt to New Orleans to the Bulge to Falujah, whispering in our dry mouths, "Come, come on, come on you bastards, come to the Angel's flame as we play taps in the rhythm of our fire".
What a delight to awaken, to finally be allowed to be Americans as the sheep follow a shepherd into the abyss and we the people forming our more perfect union, follow the better angels of our nature in their ministry and thee Shepherd, Who built this united people for His purpose, to our stand, upon our ground, living and dying, for His glory.
Come Lord Jesus. Come. In His Name. Amen
by Lame Cherry