Prophecy

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The clock strikes night. The whistle screeches in the distance. The rumble of the wheels on the tracks draw closer. The lights illuminating the path grow brighter. The anticipation ignites into a flurry of expectation. The excitement bristles the body with adrenaline. The dread of the conductor’s presence is mingled with fascination. The terror of what is to take place is outweighed by the exhausted time spent waiting for the arrival of Jesus Christ. He’s about to arrive.

The blackness of darkness is so thick it could be cut. Stars sparkle in the distance as but few specks of sand, hardly some. The coldness surrounds my weary frame like a blanket, encasing my tired body. The train is almost about to come. He’s about to arrive.

The clock strikes night and alone I stand on the platform. The yearning desire for others to join me can’t be displaced nor ignored. I see the train drawing closer to its intended destination. I don’t want to be the only one able to climb on board. My city doesn't know a tsunami is coming. He’s about to arrive in a tsunami of fire.

The ground rumbles. The leaves shiver. The noise bellows. The wind quickens. The light brightens. The legs stiffen. The hands moisten. The mouth empties. The heart hurdles. The soul dances. The mind pants for the arrival of Jesus Christ. He’s about to arrive.

Quickly, quickly His Spirit sends us forth. Hurry, hurry there is no time to be spared. There’s but moments till His return; He’s about to arrive. And there’s too few on the platform; He yearns for all men.

But it’s the middle of the night and men are asleep on their beds. Yet dawn is breaking early, daylight is about to spread across the land, and the seas, and the farthest corners of the earth to unveil the King in His glory, the Lord on His white steed. His garments magnificent are soon to be sprinkled red as He tramples the wine press of the nations who didn't respond. For this moment and for this time, He calls forth His bride, “Make disciples of all nations. May they be for Me and not against. Rise from your beds of complacency and idleness. Don’t miss My return. Are your lamps empty or are they filled? I’m about to return.”

We stand oblivious to His nature and dismissive of His return. To the majority of the bride, we won’t even be here the full seven years. A whirlwind of fire is about to strike through the heart of the U.S. We would be mindful to study the Scriptures to understand the judge who is soon to come. He’s about to arrive.

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