Red Sky At Night

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Blood Moon over Jerusalem; Photo Courtesy CNN

It appears the world survived last night’s Super Blood Moon event. And Isaac Newton’s ‘100% certain’ prophecy of an asteroid hitting the earth on the 25th. And (so far) Shemitah.

Does this mean there’s no apocalypse to come?

Sorry. If you’re hoping I’ll say no, I couldn’t possibly. There’s yet a Piper (not John, heavens) to pay for the kosmos and the earth-dwellers who insist on their treason against the Almighty.

Just not last night.

Collective whew, amiright?

Even we believers ought to be grateful to the long-suffering mercies of God to extend the deadline to fallen humanity. Don’t even get me started on the pre-trib rapturists (of whom I was part for several decades) who woke up grieving they’re somehow left behind (again). Another time perhaps.

Before the set kill-date of the 25th went into full bloom and certainly before last night’s lunar event, I wondered before the Lord if we (speaking of the church) might be painting a worse-case shemitah scenario prematurely.

I said aloud,

What if this this seven-year cycle we just completed doesn’t look like burning buildings, falling asteroids, crashing markets, Russia amassing at the borders of Israel, and the world generally on fire?

And then I thought the unthinkable, startling even myself:

What if the present apocalyptic event looks more like a man in a robe standing before the world leaders, begging them to repent of the atrocities of the countries they represent?

*no Revelation 6:2 or 17:9 comments, please*

Out-of-the-blue it came, a thought filling my inner airspace like a mushroom cloud: could it be that God is setting the current stage, not with bombs bursting in air and nuclear winter, but more quietly, less helter-skelter, with a (coughcough) Pope issuing a sobering warning to the planet?

Easy. Hear me out.

What if, just what if, God has used at the close of this current shemitah a controversial vessel through whom to say “My wrath is coming, and this is your final warning”?

What if – again, only what if – God is giving us another cycle of seven years in which to get our global house in order?

Please. I’m not even setting dates.

Just … what if???

What if you knew (none of us do, so let me rephrase that) –

What if you actually had seven more years, but only seven more years, after which the things many were freaking out about during this multiple-sign month, will actually happen? Burning buildings, plagues, mountains splitting, massive earthquakes, global martyrdoms, har-meggido, the Great Deceiver, demons unleashed, great apostasy, stars falling…etc, etc…

Believe me, these things are on God’s unamendable calendar, which Revelation 18 unfolds in gruesome detail. And we may not have seven years. But still, we have (in a manner of speaking) some time.

So what will you do with the time left? As for me, I’d like to be engaged in a holy, meaningful, and supremely purposeful enterprise.

On the asteroid-less night of the 25th, our home was jammed from stem to stern with worshipping millennials. The shekinah cloud descended, but not the smoke of torment. There was favor and shalom in our home.

I looked around the three rooms teeming with these beautiful folk and thought if I had opportunity to share my thinking in this post with them, I’d just bet some of them would begin to worry less about getting asked out for a date, should they change their major or not, getting a callback from that store’s hiring manager, what color should they consider for their bedroom, and the like. They might go back to these thoughts as soon as the late-night air hit them on the way home, but just for then, in that sacred space of time, they’d be moved to consider.

A few might even think about surrendering to a Christly cause bigger than themselves, less pay, less notoriety and go after God with all their heart, mind, and soul. In the time they have left.

In South Africa. In Honduras. In the Inner City. In Dangerous Places. Needy Regions. Anywhere but “Here”. Anywhere but Comfort City. Or Marking Time Avenue.

Mariners have a saying, “red sky at night, sailor’s delight.” For now the coast is clear for us, but time is cycling down like sands in an hourglass. The next port might be the end of the world.

What might you surrender to in this sailing weather?

Before it all goes to hell.

The Tale Of The Backyard Hawk

My Father yielded yet another spectacular backyard blessing just yesterday.

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By now most of you know I’m a disabled wheelchair user. Some of you also know I’ve gotten into this photography thing (since May) with near-reckless abandon. I cite the numerous times I’ve gotten stuck in mud and loam attempting the perfect shot as Exhibit A.

As such, I often pray for God to send me specific birds to capture in my lens since I cannot always get to where they are in their natural habitat. Alas, my backyard is a veritable panorama of birds and small wildlife!

I’ve asked for redbirds and He’s brought them. I’ve asked for goldfinches and He’s wrangled some up. Hummers, we now have aplenty. Oftentimes, these aviary eye candy have shown up a day after, within the same week, and some even the the very day of my asking.

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God is good.

I believe I know why too. The Creator knows how deeply His flitting and flapping playthings draw me more deeply into worship and He mercifully obliges.

Which has taught me something about prayer: He doesn’t necessarily oblige Himself to deliver on every ask we lay before Him, but is more inclined to answer affirmatively when He knows how the askance will foment our worship of Him, result in thankfulness, and increase our awe of His Kingdom.

Case in point.

Just yesterday, there I was in my Holy Spot, digital Bible in hand and prayer book close by, sniffing delightfully at the pre-Fall air, listening to the warbles, whistles, cantankeries, clicks, and rattles of the menagerie caught in my yard when I felt it welling up in me. I was to ask.

Here’s where you’ll think I’ve come unbuttoned.

Pools of water filled my orbital cisterns. Emotions rose. My heart hopped on a treadmill. My breaths quickened. Something so strong came over me, prompting me to cast doe-eyes at my Papa. I’m not kidding when I tell you my emotional investment in this ask was as profound as the many times I’ve asked for various healings or financial need.

You’ll think it’s stupid.

Well, I’ve brought you this far, may as well take you the rest of the way. Okay, I asked God to give me a close-up glimpse of a hawk. Sandy and I have lived at this address for 22 years and in all that time I’ve only caught sight of one hawk in our backyard – and that was more than five years ago, closer to ten. This is what makes my story more pauseworthy and, dare I say it, miraculous.

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In less than two hours a hawk glided into our backyard, it’s body like a quiet missile to my left. It thudded clumsily onto a branch barely 25 feet from me and the branch sank a good six inches.

Well, hullo there.

It was majestic!

I cried out, letting loose my inner child on Christmas morning, slowly fumbling for my camera.

Please God, don’t let him fly away!

Lo and behold, he clung to that branch for a full five minutes, his only movement a slide along the branch so as to – I kid you not! – move clear from some distractful foliage. An unobstructed view. I literally ping-ponged between excitement and fear. My Cooper’s Hawk affected me in a way we might project wondrous joy and abject terror in the Presence of the Almighty at the same time.

Praise and worship erupted in the atmosphere. All birds had absconded, not wanting to be its next meal, but I served as the Sons of Korah Choir all by myself in that ethereal moment.

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Some might chide coincidence, but you’ll never convince me. In a very limited sense, I felt like Elijah by the waterbrook, birds sent to feed and be his companions. In those minutes I was fed from the Table of God, a Mephibosheth at the Royal Dinner.

Yes, my Alaskan friends, I know a hawk doesn’t come close to eliciting the majesty of a giant bald eagle, but I’m still enraptured.

God said:

Sure, My son; I’ll flush out a hawk for you! A big one, a terrifying one. Just for you, because you asked. I see that it will move you to worship Me, be glad in Me and increase your awe in Me.”

As for the giant bald eagle?

Oh I’m coming for you, just you wait. I’ll be getting my ask on pretty soon. When the Father prompts me, it’s a done deal.

When it happens, I might even be moved to jump out of my chair. 

Won’t that blow y’all’s minds?