The dark skies wrap around the light inside my window. Water outside splashing against the glass, reminding me of the womb of rememberance…
A place that has come to pass, and is coming to pass again.
The waves of hardship dash against us, against everything that can be shaken, and then some.
The mighty fall, the weak become strong. And life as we know it will soon rupture in rebirth.
Birthpains, though some can’t feel them. Others call them braxton hicks, denying everything they’ve clung to, slowly slipping.
And yet, the church, the sinner, the saint, all respond differently, depending on their past life experiences.
Some wrestle to not see the birth of redemption’s tomorrow. Some, in their caved spaces, with screens lulling them into comfort are blinded to the coming reality.
And others, others, they rest in His wake, relax, let go, and trust God, in His sovereignty, to take the reigns, come as He may, do what He wishes…
Us just an infant, dependent upon a Savior.
The wise man built their houses upon a rock. In childhood, I sung it. But while the rains now, come tumbling down.
And how many ways has the rain been falling? On homes, health, finances, marriages?
Every soft spot, not surrendered, given to the storms, resting on sinking sand. All our idols made of dust, shrink, disippate, go splat, at last.
We see sports take the back seat, shopping isles empty, and our kids, who once were center stage, now given real places within the family.
How long can we go on?
And doesn’t the mother is labor cry out in sound? Why are so many silent?
Don’t they know this is the hour, to see righteousness come, hearts saved, people turned around by the power of His blood?
I see the temptations to get monetized, to be led astray, to be captivated by things that don’t matter.
It all makes sense, this pulling, this wrestling, like a bobbing symbol riding the waves of the ocean.
Yet, there is One who is our anchor. One who stills us in the storm, and gives us peace in torrents we still 
don’t understand.
They’ll be eating, drinking, getting married, like in the days of Noah. Yet, He will come, and we must understand, do we want to be with Him in that hour?
Great men will fall. Hearts will collapse. Fear will plague the land. People will lose faith, their hearts will soon grow cold….
But the One who made us still will remain; steadfast, holy, able, unwavering…
A shelter as our refuge, a rock in our storms, a wing we can rest under.
And we get to choose this day who we will serve. A plummet line has been set.
And while the whole world might crumble, no one can rob us from this chance to turn our faces heaveward, and know Him, really know Him.
Laws may steal some churches songs, but the voice of those crying in the wind, will reach the heavens with our sound.
Daniel was not quiet, though thrown into the lion’s den. Esther didn’t obey the mandates, to not approach the King or she’d be slain. David danced, though his wife even tried to stop him…
And what did he say? “I will be EVEN MORE undignified than this!”
Over and over again we see the call of God’s people to place Him as head, as King…
Lord, over their own lives.
Though laws come against us. Though fear tries to diminsh us. Though even our own family may scold and ridicule us…
The people of God will not be faint. We will not be silent.
We know the new birth of His reign is coming, as the whole world shakes from the pains within this womb.
A womb toxic with things never meant to be digested.
Yet He is good, able and can provide beauty from our nation’s crippling marriage between “holy” and things never meant to be eaten.
Be holy, as He is holy.
He is coming in the clouds and He is looking, not for perfection, but surrender…Not for good works….
But for a righteous heart, given fully, over to Him.
We wait. We wait, as the people of God, expectant for what He is birthing…
A people of praise. A people of dependency. A people of sold out faith, clinging to the One who is faithful….
Even when we are not.
I hear the sound. Do you hear it too? He is coming.
Let’s cling to His wisdom, anchored in His love, standing on the Rock that will not be shaken in this storm…
As tomorrow slowly comes.
He is coming. Light rising. Life asking, will we honor Him in faith. Rising in power with a grace to not just “get through” these birth pains…
But to testify of a loving God, with humility and the same grace that led Jesus to the cross.
If they persecuted Him, they will persecute us.
What an honor to take up our crosses and follow Him. Not a burden, but a gift.
Because at the other side of death, is resurrected life. Singing seven times around….
Until the walls come crashing down.
And the promised land is ours.
