The Ravings of a Mad(Wo)man-- E-day minus eleven

(My apologies to those of you who do not reside in the USA. I trust that you will forgive the coming stream of e­mails from me, and be, in your own country, challenged by them.)

It advertised itself as a prophecy about the elections. I read the one­line introduction: "We can pray for mercy" and got no further. Why bother? I already knew there wouldn’t be anything good to follow. Lest you send me a bad­news email, let me warn you that I’ve read them until I’m ready to throw up—and if you send me yet another, I may throw up all over you.

So I’m raving, and I’m am angry. Outraged. I’m wondering who has so misrepresented my Father, to the point that the belief in His rage and short temper has become commonplace. Doesn’t God have any friends left? Are there none who are willing to say, ’What if there are five righteous men in the city? Will you spare this city—spare this country—for the sake of the ones who love You?" Does no one remember that He is patient? Has the memory of His love been completely wiped from every heart?

If we’ve so forgotten the one true God, maybe we are doomed to destruction. Maybe that’s all that remains to us.

Before I’ve finished raving, let me say something different. You see, in November of 2007, I opened the window of my own personal ark, and looked out. And I saw that the flood had ended, and there was greenery springing up. I saw that what I had doubted for years was true: the Lord was good. He is able and willing to deliver all who are oppressed.

How truly beautiful are the feet of everyone who is willing to say, ’Our God reigns." How beloved are the ones who are willing to comfort His people, and to tell them that their time of war is over. How unforgettable are the ones who are merely a conduit for the words of God, saying, ’I will not be angry; I will not rebuke you anymore."

In the time of my trouble, I cried to the Lord, because He was the only one who would hear me. And He did hear me. He did listen. He did lift up my head, and He told me what path to take. That path will lead me down to the pit. I want to go there, because in the pit I hear others who are like I was, hopeless and despairing. I want my hands to lift them up. I want my words to give them hope. I want my heart to give them love.

I want to be remembered as that beautiful woman who said, ’Never fear; our God reigns." I want to be remembered as one who brought comfort to those who were weary from fighting their own battles.

I can’t prophesy bad news, because the day of the Lord’s favor is in my heart. Now is the time for the broken hearts to be wrapped up tight, and to be made whole. Now is the time to comfort those who mourn in Zion:

The Lord will have compassion on you.

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