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A call to Prophesy

This is a poem by my beautiful little sister (and the holy spirit). It’s a vision for the church that I stand by, that I’m in love with, when we see the church unite and Love like Jesus I believe we will see joy breakout and grace break through in a way we’ve never seen before.


The Call to Unity

Do you hear the trumpet call?

The call to gather,

the calling together

The voice crying out in the desert ‘make straight the way of the Lord’

The summoning of the Father ‘build up, build up, prepare the road! Remove the obstacles out of the way of my people’

and the crying of the son for his bride to be one.

This is the yearning, the churning in my heart,

the thirst for the first on His heart.

To leave behind the divisions that were brought about by the visions of those whose security was found in religions.

Instead to inherit the inheritance, 

the ground taken,

the dreams that were forsaken, 

the momentum that brought us here, 

the goals buried due to fear.

To reach over the walls that at present we lean on 

and join back together the limbs of the bride who for too long 

has lain disjointed 

not dancing the dance of love to which she was appointed.

Let this be our vision:

To love without measure, 

to always behold the treasure 

in the soul of the person that to know appears to be far from a pleasure.

To live life not by whimsical principles, tainted until they’ve fainted by the culture by which they’re increasingly painted but to live by the principles of the prince himself.

The kingdom of the king.

Let’s no longer dispute over doctrine or form

but unify in healing the heart of our nation that has been torn apart.

Let us gather at the banqueting table 

And drink and eat until we’re unable

to do anything but love

unreservedly, unconditionally, authentically.

And let love be the banner under which assemble, 

and Jesus be the one that to look on we resemble.

This is my prayer:

for the church to wake up, 

to shake up, 

to choose to be hungry, 

to choose to be angry 

and real. 

To choose to feel,

and not reel away from the orphans that steal,

the orphans who cheat, who lie, who truth be told, are scared to die,

That I for one would love them exactly as they are,

all covered in tar, 

in soot, 

in rags, 

in a shiny car,

in a top paid job, 

in a business suit, 

with a tough guy walk and stolen goods in the boot,

in the media, in the club, in Sainsbury’s, in the pub. 

In the rain when I’m worn out

because it’s not me that it’s about.

I’m sure of this that we hold the answer 

to why the girl with the gift never became the dancer,

to why the boy born a prophet lives unaware 

of the heavenly secrets concealed in the air

to why the one with a leaders voice 

never realised they had the choice

to live the dream,

to choose the option

to be all they could be and more

and here we are with the door 

to adoption

through which comes the sound of the father affirming 

‘I love you and it’s not due to earning,

It’s simply because 

I do’

Church, arise from your slumber and fall in love again with the one you fell asleep beholding and since have only beheld in your dreams 

unable to touch,

It seems 

there’s a stirring, 

an excitement burning, 

a renewed mind we’re learning, 

a blank page we’re turning to write the next chapter of the history book.

It’s a revival chapter, look,

you can feel it coming,

an earthquake that shook 

the very hearts of the angles that are assigned to this age

to welcome the king’s coming at every stage

through the story of time 

that is now yours and mine.

It’s on the horizon, the Glory of the lord has risen upon us his church, lets break though the deep darkness of depression that engulfs our world and bind up the broken hearted with the healing power of perfect Love. (Isaiah 60&61)

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