Dream 25
I stand under the patrolling beam of one of many lighthouses down a rocky coast bordering deep seas. A vast multitude of people tread water, some swimming in exhausted circles on the same spot. The crowd of humanity in the water is massive, it stretches far beyond the reach of our beam of light.
Down our stretch of beach, a few hundred people are throwing ropes into the water and pulling people out. Some of the ropes are old and fraying. A couple of them have small sound systems set up to help guide people towards land but there is simply too much noise out there, much bigger equipment is needed. Better ropes, more manpower, better sound. Meanwhile tens of thousands huddle around fires further inland and refuse to hear the cries of their colleagues on the beach for help and resource. My hands are calloused and blistered from a lifetime of throwing ropes into the sea. My neck sore from looking backwards to ask for help. I simply cannot believe that every single person on the beach behind me has been pulled out of that water and now refuse to help me.
My rope has snapped again. My sound system has stopped working. My screens explaining to those in the sea that dry land is this way no longer work so I turn around to shout for help. A few people on the beach yell at me to stop asking for stuff all the time. Some give me a few cents. One guy brings me an old rope. Another an old speaker.
I hate this. I hate them. I regret pulling them out of the water.
I don’t hate them. I am just disappointed.
I cry with frustration but gratefully thank those who helped with what they could and return to the railing. There is a team around me feeding and watering the exhausted and dehydrated swimmers as we pull them out of the sea. Every now and then someone blesses us with enough resource to send a few boats out to save more people. This is extremely effective and I wish we could do it every day but I have given everything I have, sold all of any worth and own nothing.
Behind me on the beach someone has built a huge house. I could have built a ship with the same money. The injustice of it makes me cry out in frustration while my speakers keep blowing and my ropes keep snapping.
Behind me, people dance and sing about how awesome it was to be saved from the sea. I begin to curse them in my heart. Why won’t they come and help us?
To my left and right, people drop from exhaustion and frustration. Some simply drop the ropes and walk inland to join the others.
I enter a time of depression where my hands do the work but my heart has failed me. My insides are numb. My mind is numb. I haul human after human out of the sea. The stream is endless. And then My last rope snaps. I have a small, exhausted team. We are all too tired to shout backwards for help. I tell the team that I’ll go and earn the resource while they keep working.
They cant stay. Most of them have not seen real provision in years. I don’t blame them. I head inland and get a job, spending every cent on sound systems, rope, nets, life jackets and boats while everyone around me are wasting their money on stuff that has absolutely no use on the beach. They simply don’t care. They are warm and dry and those in the sea don’t matter.
I can’t delay any longer and go back to the water with my new gear. None of my old team join me. Life on land is too good. Its fine, they worked hard with me for a long tine and I am grateful for the time they spent with me.
I set up the sound and make it loud. Hundreds in the water can hear me.
Those withe the strength to swim, swim towards me. Those within reach of my ropes and net grab on gratefully and come to shore. A few immediately help me. The vast majority simply head inland to join the praise parties and church services.
Some set up massive, expensive buildings and catch the hundreds and thousands coming through the hands of the evangelists. I beg for help but few send any.
We pull more and more out of the sea, every minute of every day.
I ask them all to come back and help, or send resource but very few do.
I decide to join a big inland church in the hope of money and manpower for the operations next to the sea. They tell me I have agendas and a rebellious heart. I try my best to fit in but they are content with a couple of hundred rescues a week. I want thousands per hour. I leave disappointed and go and work to get new gear.
In a few years, all my new gear is broken and all my ropes are snapped. My voice is hoarse from shouting for help. My team is tired but faithful.
We make do with old ropes but we need ships. We could save so many if we had ships. I pray but it feels like my prayers hit the sky and come tumbling back down.
I see a fisherman next to me receive a large amount of money for his fishing gear and I rejoice. Many will be saved with that money! He buys himself an expensive set of suits, a jet and a nice car. I curse him. I hate him. I don’t hate him. I just don’t understand.
I confront him. His followers attack me. They say he deserves honor for his hard work. I don’t have the energy to argue.
Hundreds of workers down the coastline do their best with what they have. It simply is not enough. Thousands in the sea are drowning and every time I see another slip under the waves my heart breaks a little more. I lift my voice and curse God for all that I see. I curse my existence. I curse the devil and every Angel that is not helping us. I stand there wishing I was never born. I curse the selfishness of those inland and start to regret pulling even one from the sea.
The muscles in my arms are damaged from using cheap rope and there are not enough resources coming in to hire more fishers of men. I look down the beach and watch as hundreds of others feel the same way, some only pulling with one arm as the other dangles lifelessly at their side.
Some sit and weep.
A few new fishers of men grab the old ropes and do what they can.
I sit down. No tears. No strength to do anything.
My lighthouse bulb is blown and I have no budget to fix it.
I am tired of shouting for help.
It has been almost 30 years of this.
Enough is enough.
I lie down and wait for death.
Gatherer:
“I remember that day son of sorrow.”
Gatherer has never had his hand on my shoulder before. He does now. Two heads taller than I, this Angel speaks gently to me, filled with the love of the Father.
We stand in front of a massive construction yard. I am not sure what is being build but it is a lot of massive structures.
Gatherer:
“It took six years, many faithful men and multiple legions of angels to restore you from then to now son of sorrow. Know that we have been with you in every battle and we are with all who fight as you fought.
For many drown in the sea of contestation. Many drown there, never knowing the love of the Father or the word of the son. Many sink under the weight of a spirit heavy with the ink of the deceiver. Many come from the water grateful for a savior but refuse to call him Lord. The Father loves all but wishes that they would have his heart.
None must perish. Not even one.”
We stand in silence for a while. The rush of memories from those long years and the collateral damage of so many lost friends along the rocks between sea and land brings upon me great sadness.
Me:
“Even now, with many new teams and hoarse voice do I fight to suppress those emotions from back then. Even with the revelation of these dreams do I fight frustration against those who celebrate their salvation and ignore the work. I don’t know if I would survive another breakdown like that”.
Gatherer.
“You would not. And you will not have to. But first must I show you things that will offend many who read your account of it. The chaff will reject you with greater contempt than ever before but a much bigger multitude will follow. Come son of sorrow, let thine eyes be opened.”
We are outside a large church building. A limousine pulls up and the pastor climbs out bedecked in jewelry from head to toe. Next to the pastor stands a demon, two heads taller than a tall man. It stairs at us with a sharp bloodless face. If he were human, he would look dead. The demon smiles arrogantly and rests his hand upon the shoulder of the pastor. Both walk into the VIP entrance of this elaborate building and we follow them to a pastor’s lounge drenched in opulence.
Servants scuttle around while the odd department head pops in to grovel before the pastor from time to time. All so grateful to be in his presence that they forget how to speak. He lovingly forgives their nervousness and issues his orders gently. All known that to disobey these gentle commands brings dire consequence.
Me:
“I really don’t want to see this stuff. Can we just focus on what must be done and not what others are doing?”
Gatherer:
“No, it is important that all is brought to light. Record all you see, hold nothing back.”
The pastors suit is immaculate. His shoes shine perfectly. Not a hair out of place. And the hand of the towering demon snugly upon his right shoulder.
A well dressed lady enters the room with a team in town. They set to powdering the pastors face for tv while a sound guy wires him up.
We are good to go.
We exit a single door to the side of this palatial lounge and enter large auditorium where band and choir execute songs in perfection. Every eye turns to the door as the pastor enters. Body guards wait at intervals on his route, two flank him as he walks to his seat. He waits for three worship songs and climbs the stage.
Every prayer is biblical. Every word polished and perfect. He delivers the message with thunder in the right places and silence in the right places. He reads the commands of Jesus to go and make the disciples. He quotes Paul perfectly. He takes up offering as if Paul himself had the microphone and does an altar call as if Peter were the preacher. Hundreds come forward. The service ends. I can’t find a single biblical inconsistency and have no idea what the demon has to gain here.
Me:
“I don’t understand, what was wrong with what we just saw?”
Gatherer:
“Builder will soon explain all in detail but know that nothing that you saw in there was commanded by Christ. It is man’s version, craftily created to keep him away from the fishing waters and comfortable inland. The Angels call this the counterfeit temple.”
Me:
“I can’t write that. You will have every church in the world turn their back on me.”
Gatherer:
“Not all. For many equip as they should but most do not.”
For the record. I have nothing in my heart against the way anyone practices their ministry. Please measure all that is written here against the word of God. I do not fear rejection but I certainly do not revel in embarrassing others. I encourage you to read what is said and adjust and correct your course accordingly.
Builder:
“The purpose of the five-fold ministry is to equip the saints for the work of the kingdom. The work of the kingdom is to expand the kingdom so that His will be done, His Kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven. To equip the saints means teaching them to make disciples who teach all that the Christ commanded them.
All that is required for this is that they are taught the Christ and the commands of the Christ.
For anything other than obedience to the commands of the Christ, who is the word made manifest, is counterfeit.
Man is to die to himself and his own dreams and desires that he may become one with the word and the kingdom. For it is only when the kingdom reigns that any personal success is righteous.
But with smooth twisting of the word do they tell you to chase your personal dreams and love your life and live a life that prosperous.”
Me:
“I have done this, I have taught this.”
Builder:
“Many have and many do. It is a strategy of the enemy to keep the eyes of man upon himself so that he is blind to all outside of the kingdom. You are commanded by the Christ to renounce all that you have and be HIS disciple. You are warned that those who preserve their way of living will lose it. You are commanded to leave family and lands and follow Him so that His kingdom may be established.
What you have witnessed is a perfected strategy to satisfy the blinded saint who will pour every resource into a well oiled machine that is designed to keep the resources from the front lines. A brilliant war of attrition.
Look at the budget, see how little is spent on widows and orphans? See how little is spent on missionaries and evangelism? See how much is spent on entertainment?
See how the members are discouraged from sowing into outside mission based ministries and told that this is the storehouse?
All they do is good. All they do is great. There is not one hair out of place with what they do. The strategy is on what they do NOT do.
This is neither hot nor cold, although it has the appearance of hot, it is lukewarm for the words of the Christ are not commands here. Here does personal prosperity reign.
This is supposed to be a house of prayer and equipping. Instead it is a house of attrition, cutting off the flow of money and manpower to the front lines.
The strongman of the house has done well.”
Gatherer:
“Every single person in every single seat is supposed to be upon that beach and upon those rocks, drawing out the multitude from the seas of contestation. They should be there, shining their light or pushing every resource to that beach and sending out boats.
But they sit here. Useless to the kingdom. Happy to be going to heaven. Loving their lives. Refusing to bow their knee to the words of the Christ. Thinking ignorantly that those responsibilities are for others. They love God but hate his commands. They follow leaders blindly like Israel followed Saul. They selfishly store up for themselves private heavens while billions live in private hells. Hear me now son of sorrow:
This is not the kingdom of God. This is the kingdom of mammon.”
The judgement is so harsh. I don’t want to hear this stuff.
Me:
“What’s the point of passing judgement on the body like this? I thought we were here to work in love and proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor!”
Gatherer:
“Time is short son of sorrow. The King is coming soon. Only the Father knows the time but all of heaven is mobilized for this great harvest and now too must all of earth follow suit. Warn all who have ears to hear that the time for lukewarm mediocrity is passed. Bring upon them a sense of urgency. Lose your life. Live for the kingdom. Reach the lost, feed the poor. Sell your possessions and build only the kingdom.
Those who are wealthy must be generous to the kingdom builders and withhold every cent from those who stop the flow of resource to the battlefront. Already now are horns blowing in the kingdom of darkness for they too sense what is to come.
These next 18 years will be the most important time in the history of this earth.”
Me:
“Wait. Are you saying that Jesus is coming back in 2033?”
Gatherer:
“No Angel knows the date, neither does even the son. Only the Father decides this and His desire is that none shall perish. But there is a mobilization in both heaven and hell like never before. The deceiver knows the importance of the harvest generation and his servants kill them even the womb by the hundreds of thousands every day.
For this generation shall be pulled from the waters and they shall bring upon this earth the heart of God and a victorious bride.”
Me:
“The churches that you and Builder speak of, are they in trouble eternally?”
Gatherer:
“Love covers a multitude of sins. Their actions are of great disappointment to the Father but he loves them still. When they hear this truth they shall answer the call. Only write what you hear and see son of sorrow.”
We return to the massive construction yard.
Gatherer:
“Behold son of sorrow. Great ships of the great harvest are prepared even now. They shall be sent out, captained by the workers to seek and save the lost.
Though the enemy wage this war of attrition to starve the battle front of resources shall the unrighteousness fund these ships. For even though Israel crucified the son was the Gentile who spread his fame. In the same way now does the bride turn her back upon him but rejoice for his grace knows no bounds. For he knows our adversary so well that he has used his own economy against him and now the saints, proficient in mammon, kept away from the the counterfeit temples shall answer the call. And blind eyes in the counterfeit temples shall open and they shall be converted into house of prayer and equipping of the saints and great ships shall go out to fulfill the commands of the Christ.
The time has come for the great harvest. Let all who have ears to hear hear. And let all who have eyes to read read. Repent, turn from your wicked ways and God will heal your nations.”
Uriel:
“The Father desires that all are one with the words of the son. For the words of the son are holy and to be revered. Every word of the son is a command from the Father and every command leads us closer to His will being done, his Kingdom coming to earth and being on earth as it is in heaven. Man cannot achieve this with selfish doctrine for you are to be one as we are one. When one lives in opulence while another starves it is not called prosperity, it is called disparity. It is a vile injustice perpetrated by the spirit of mammon. For this reason must the entire kingdom advance, that all may experience the goodness of God in equal measure.
But even the elite are fooled and lead millions of believers astray with doctrines of self enrichment. The Lamb says sacrifice thyself, the false teacher says enrich thyself. The Lamb says go out into the world, the false teacher says stay in my temple. The Lamb says feed the poor, the false teacher says give to my storehouse only.
All who read these words must awaken to the truth. You strive to gain the world at the expense of your soul. For if the good news is foolishness to you, you are perishing.
Do not give yourself over to these false doctrines. Come out from among them. Do what Christ commands. Move in the Love of the Father. Be filled with the power of the Holy Spirit. Be one with the word as we are one with the word. For all that proceeds from the mouth of the Lamb is holy and worthy of our submission. Obey nothing that contests against His words.”
Builder:
“The ships you see before you are tools of the harvest. Busses, stage trucks, tents, bible theme parks, high capacity places of prayer. Build these and use them for the harvest.
Create for children places of such fun and joy that the word is written upon their spirits in even their time of play. Convert churches into play places and have all teach their children the words of Jesus and the stories of the Old testament.
Take to the teens more than the world has to offer and unlock within them their imaginations to build one kingdom with technology that the Holy Spirit will reveal to them.
Advance the kingdom with every drop of technology at your disposal.
Build farms, farms and more farms for those who hunger and give them clean water to drink.
Share this vision and command unity. Warn those who will not come into unity twice and the third time have nothing to do with them.
Churches are to stop preaching self enrichment and start teaching the words of the Lamb and the advancement of the kingdom.
Shout this from every rooftop son of sorrow, for many hunger for this message with all that they are. Captains of thousands and tens of thousands will come. The time is now for the great harvest.
Write upon your wall and pray until it has passed:
Two billion souls by 2033.
His kingdom come, His will be done on earth as it is in heaven!
Pray to the Father in the name of the son. Keep rank as the son keeps rank. Fight to expand the kingdom with all that is in you.
The Father held nothing back. The Lamb held nothing back. The Holy spirit holds nothing back. The Angels hold nothing back. Son of sorrow, HOLD NOTHING BACK.”
I wake up.
I would like to publicly repent for all self enrichment teaching that has come from my mouth. I certainly meant well but I am blind no longer. There is only the kingdom and only the word of Jesus who is my Lord. I live only for him and no other. You must lay down your live so that the kingdom of God will expand. All else is counterfeit and contestation.