Raven's Call

Soon

ravenscall — Thu, 13 Aug 2009 15:41:33 +0000

The cry of the holy remnant rises to heaven

set your wind to the west, Adonai

for the west has fallen

it has fallen

a fire burns on the Holy Mount

a watchman waits for the dawn; pink tinges the sky.

The Lord of Hosts stands on the border of a far country

He looks across, watching for the signs of the times

that the great Abba has set in place and

will soon be in motion

the sounds of a host preparing for war rises behind Him

His eyes search to and fro

His hand is on His sword

He watches the movement of the enemy

He soaks in Abba’s love

His smile is sure and confident

His heart is immovable, His countenance flint

His eyes burn with passion and tears

Soon, Little Ones, I come soon.

Bringing in the Sheaves

ravenscall — Wed, 12 Aug 2009 17:56:02 +0000

The Lord comes dancing at the head of a host of angels. Both Jesus and the angels carry heavy bundles. Might they be singing “Bringing in the Sheaves?” Jesus comes to a church and cries, “Keepers of my house, look what I have brought – Little Saints, fresh from the pit. Yes, they are still filthy, and yes, many of them do smell, but look, my church, they are alive, they are free, rejoice!

The Lord then notices a sign on the door. Under the sign is a huge hasp and padlock. The Lord knocks off the padlock and pushes open the doors. Jesus sees the church is empty and swept. Lined up on both sides of the walls are rows of manicles.

“AAAAAHHHH!” Jesus cries in anguish. “My church is not fit for these little ones!” Jesus turns to the angels. “Where are the empty movie houses,” He roars, “Where are the empty strip malls, warehouses, garages and cellars?” Jesus cries to the host, “Watch. I will fill the desolate places with life but to the pharasitic parasites who steal life and warmth and bread, ‘Beware, for your millstones are at the door!’ “

The Things of God

ravenscall — Wed, 12 Aug 2009 17:37:58 +0000

When we approach the things of God, we must consider that since they involve and interact with God, they must be approached with the awareness of the attributes of God; our God, wild and exciting.

He is passionate and His love is furious. He is aggressive and He pursues and chases. Our God does not mutter, He roars. He does not turn on and off. He is always bright, burning, awesome, approachable, and lovable (even in his anger).

Our God will not be civilized or marginalized. He will not be feminized or masculinized. Our God will not be polarized or fossilized or politicized. Our God will not be closeted or silenced. He will not take second place. He will not be shelved to be taken out during crisis or holidays. He will not be boxed, manipulated, or changed to fit our momentary needs.

The things of God consist of prayer, praise, worship, giving, service, fellowship, and love. These things need to be approached with a wild passion, with a furious love. Prayer should not be a dry duty; it is an awesome privilege that connects us to Jesus in ways we cannot fathom.

Imagine praying for your brothers, side by side with Jesus who is praying for you. Fellowship is not only a potluck dinner, a chance meeting in Walmart can be a life-changing experience and should be approached with consuming caring and love – true koinonia.

The chance to serve others to the glory of our King’s name will send electric shivers through our spirit. Giving will be a blessing beyond understanding – Christmas morning in reverse. Praise surrounds us with blooms of roaring flame. Worship puts us on the lap of Jesus and brings us into the very heart of God.

Love, furious love suffuses, surrounds, supports, and sustains us; filling us with a wild passion for Jesus and aggressive desire to chase Him and a furious love.

Theology

ravenscall — Tue, 11 Aug 2009 14:53:16 +0000

Read by God

thrown out of the window of heaven

drowned in the deeps deepest depth

buried beneath deep mountain roots

incinerated in the fire of the sun

gathered by the wisdom of men

reconstituted by the pride of men

implemented by the control of men

enforced by the cruelty of men

here faith falters

love lessens

grace gives way

hope becomes hopeless

Jesus weeps

Expectancy

ravenscall — Mon, 10 Aug 2009 17:36:02 +0000

A child enters a holy place

a sacred isle he treads

full of wonder and holy fear

his shoulders sag under the mantle of expectancy

love fills his dry heart,

the balm of peace calms his bruised soul

his shriveled spirit swells beneath the Spirit’s flood

expectancy reigns explosion unleashed

a trill of notes, a song of praised released

his heart bursts aflame

whirling, jumping, shaking, shouting,

joy breaks out in love for our King

Glares, stares,

the world crumbles, the ceiling falls

the floor splits open, raging, crashing judgment falls

like a twig crushed by boulders, something snaps within him

he cringes, turtles, hides

cold stares cut like knives – elders turn away

an icy spear pierces his heart at pastor’s reproof

his peace is crushed

his faith like a candle in a gale is snuffed

satan laughs dark joy abounds

order is restored

A child slinks out of a holy place

broken, twisted, crippled

the church grinds on

another one ground

ashes to ashes dust to dust

another corrected who made a fuss

********************************************************

Luke 18:17 “Verily I say unto you, whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child shall in no wise enter therein.”

Luke 17:2 “It were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and he cast into the sea, than that he should offend one of these little ones.”

Listen

ravenscall — Mon, 10 Aug 2009 19:45:25 +0000

Horns, I hear horns
shofar blows across the land
entire congregations raise their hands and sing
Jesus walks amongst them
unseen, unfelt, unloved, as a stranger
I hear the rocks cry out

People pray for sustenance and blessing
full bellies and full pockets
but their ears are asleep to the cries of the lost
The Lord roars out of Zion
the earth trembles, hatred rises in the streets
lies pour forth as truth, fear falls in sheets
babies die, no one mourns, hell rejoices
the church turns away

In the distance a sound is rising
listen, those with ears and hear the sound
the sound of horsemen coming