It’s true that the King Himself rescues some of us from the back alleys and gutters of Rebellion, Hatred and Darkened Understanding as well as from the crumbling towers of Self Righteousness, and the gilded decay of Human Reasoning and Dead Religious Works.
Does He bring us into His Kingdom and deposit us on the back step until the angels have cleaned us up?
No.
The One Who wraps Himself in Light gently wipes the scum of unbelief from our brow, brushes the tangle of self exalting filth from our hair, bathes us in the sweetness of His forgiveness.
From the stench of the gutter to the opulent beauty of the Royal Chambers of the King.
He pours the fragrant oil of His anointing over us, again and again until we stand, trembling, dripping and soaked in glory.
Drenched.
King Jesus bestows gifts of unknowable value upon each of us and tenderly shows us how to carry them without causing damage to ourselves or others.
“Love”, He says.
Glowing from crown to sole with the beauty of His favor and the mark of His consecration, He sends us back out to the gutters, alleys and towers, where other lost children of the King are begging for life, for just a moment of peace, for a small thin ray of hope to carry them into the next day.
Some of the Anointed ones return to the Royal Courts with a vast number in tow; great crowds of limping, diseased and starving refugees.
Others are bewitched by the glitter and sparkle of the Old Dead Things, now freshly painted since their former patrons relocated to the radiant splendor of Heaven’s Courts…and don’t make it back to the gentle smile of the King.
At least, not yet.
Still others, and my heart pounds with Joy in the telling, lighten the very atmosphere of the fallen world they were once citizens of; their passage through humanity’s hooded sorrow is noted by the ecstatic sobs of crushed lives being resurrected and thundering shouts of glad rejoicing rising, rising and dancing, spinning, whirling mixed with angels’ laughter and Wild Celestial Celebration.
It is also True that of the three groups represented here, the Bewitched ones are, by far, the priority of the King.
You see…
They yet carry the Gifts, are still glowing with His Favor and each one bears the unmistakable mark of Heaven’s Consecration.
Gifts which can be twisted, Favor which can be prostituted, and a Consecration which empowers a false concept of God’s grace.
False prophets are born from rebellion against the King and His Word.
They have power, charisma and the form of godliness with no power to change.
The King is not willing that these should corrupt His Bride and calls to them in this hour.
REPENT!
Though These wander, stumbling through the once familiar, now excruciatingly empty and menacing places of self indulgent ignorance, their hearts are Somewhere Else.
The one who has been saturated in the fragrant oil of His Spirit has already known too Much.
The Voice of the King echoes in the far reaches of their soul; their dreams especially, are vulnerable to His whispered entreaty.
“Return to Me, My Treasure. You are My Everything.”
They belong to Him.
He will not relent.
“Return!”
“Come, and let us return to the LORD;
For He has torn, but He will heal us;
He has stricken, but He will bind us up.
After two days He will revive us;
On the third day He will raise us up,
That we may live in His sight.
Let us know,
Let us pursue the knowledge of the LORD.
His going forth is established as the morning;
He will come to us like the rain,
Like the latter and former rain to the earth.”
(Hosea 6:1-3)~nkj~
Throne Room Light!