The Rapture Series
Why Do you Believe? What Do you Believe? How Do You Believe? Who Do You Believe?
“Reason to Believe”
One Thousand Years
Genesage
"King of Kings"
(Chp 6:3)
"Look to Me."
It was as if a pressure valve let go.
The steam whistle blowing, giving a call, the tsunami warning, the siren raid, a blast like a shofars horn.
The words gave impetus as they caused many in the mob, the crowd of thousands upon thousands, to begin to weep. It was too much.
So much had happened to everyone present.
As so often in mob mentality, or mass hysteria, one thought ran through the mob. One emotion which caught all, involving everyone. The mass became one in response, all cried.
There was too much raw power, pure passion, overwhelming feeling in the words themselves.
Having been so long in darkness.
Too many days in the cold.
Months in torture, years in suffering, now in the Light it felt as though in those words someone cared. Someone heard. Someone was listening, even responding.
In the light as it kept flowing upon them in golden almost rainbow-ic aura; that was enough. They were heard; someone cared; someone reponded.
Hope slipped in unawares by surprise.
At the same time an image came to mind.
Almost like a Michelangelo painting all those that had lost everything had a visage come to their individual mind. A view to a killing, one that occurred too long ago. A murder that had lasted too long and certainly could not have produced a more devastating effect on the human body.
The person who cared, the one who listened, He stood before them.
The messiahs body, the scarred remains of the man they could see now clearly as if standing in front of face to face, He was here. All could see Him as He is. The Lamb slain.
The scars Jesus as Christ still bore. He looked like the Survivors from the Tribulation Period. His image as theirs. They saw his obedience as the same Will that had caused them to survive, but as through fire. The cleansing purification of the Tribulation upon the World. They could see him as he was now in the Kingdom. Just like them, except they knew, and it was obvious they knew. They knew He had chosen to be scarred and marred for them.
Maimed and scarred more than any other man.
The saw his wounds, how he was pierced.
They Knew..,
"I Am."
The word themselves were spoken by the thunder as the Living Word reached out upward.
The results were instant.
Nothing could stand.
All fell down, prostrated.
Angels had easily bowed turning a knee to bow down.
But the thousands upon thousands who were in the plains alongside the Mount of Olives looking at the Son of Man, the Son of God, fell. A forest of prostration blown flat by the cataclysm himself.
They lay flat on their faces; weeping and healing; realizing and seeing; knowing and apprehending; waiting for the very words they knew were to be uttered to come forth.
They lay prostrate as they fell like dead men hardly breathing.
Hearing, not moving.
Trumpet like noise shouted in melodic declaration. They were notes on a scale everyone heard as words in the notes. It was as if all spoke in another language and knew that language inherently.
The language of sound; the rhythm of music; the very chords of perfect harmony. They knew. In that sound, the words were heard. The trumpet sounding blasts shouted.
"King of Kings"
As the words were sung; trumpeted; shouted; in harmonic or fulfillment in the notes of the sounding of shofar; there was a resounding blast of breath from God. The Spirit was there. Vocals and harmony descended upon him. That noise; melodic, harmonic, came from straight above and the force of the air that followed it was like a pressing hurricane downward. It alone would have forced any one not flat on their face to do so now.
"Hallelujah Hallelujah"
It was as one would have expected heaven to be of the angelic proportion.
None would have thought to have been blasted literally into prostration before the sound and by the wind that followed it. It was as if a giants breath, but in a magnitude never envisioned, carried the words that flew into each person. Each of the words were sown into the very fiber of their being.
So much so that if it were possible to know, it was found in the very center of their DNA code. Inscribed as part of the RNA forever. The words placed there King of Kings, inscribed.
Creation branded by the Creator of all.
The blast of horn, how could it speak?
It did. Resounding again in trumpeting effect and images flowed with the words themselves.
As incredible as it was no one felt anything anymore but a general sense of awe. A Pause prevailed, a holiness supreme.
There was a moment of silence.
A Silence of thought, heart, soul and mind
(blogger)
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