The Prophet Speaks

For Zion's sake I will not keep silent, for Jerusalem's sake I will not remain quiet, till her righteousness shines out like the dawn, her salvation like blazing torch. The nations shall see your righteousness, and all kings your glory; you will be called by a name that the mouth of the Lord will bestow.
Isa. 62:1-2.


In times when new paradigms are being created, one thing that becomes indispensable is unifying leadership. Transformational leaders all through history identified this need to unite the forces and went through hell to see to the desired change. It isn't a pleasure trip. It is exhausting, arduous, and an audacious quest to attempt combining unlike poles. But success is for the one who stays the course to the end.


I remember the days when I was pensively in the mood with the Lord over my city. What I saw before me, even to this day, is an uneven people who take pleasure in disunity. For the most part we have a myriad number of unassuming folks who refuse to decide for themselves unless the order comes from above. Such will not rise to any call even when the trumpet is blowing. But they will run helter-skelter  once their overlords have demanded. They make up the bulk of the congregation, the political parties' groundsmen, and pockets of fun-clubs and unions.


I saw to my dismay, those who issue the commands. And my heart grew heavy with grief. For even as they speak, I heard a rant that called for more division and hatred. Even as overlords, they speak with little sense and their eyes see no further than they can look. All around them is thick wall built with separatist mentality -- the 'us and them' games.


So I asked the Lord, "How do we unite such a mixed people and succeed?" He whispered, "Speak, my Son. Speak and they shall hear you. And in hearing you, they shall listen to my voice and I will change them and save the land that I gave you before the foundation of the world."


For my peoples sake, the prophet must speak. Jacobu is blessed to see this day as the new sun shines upon the old city. But the sons and daughters still dance to the music of the old moon. They forget the moon does not lit except in the night. They sleep even when the night gives way to the day. They mourn in times of joy. And they scatter even the little that the gatherers have piled up. 


As the call goes out, let it fall on the ears that itch to listen so the heart may hear the Lord speak. Our destiny is in our hands and we have relinquished it into the hands of the greedy and the selfish; the haters sit on the unifiers' seat and I see their feet dangle from that higher ground. Simply put, we have put juvenile souls where the seventh-old kindles the fire. And the best these infantiles wish to do now is to toss the fire around as if there can be no consequences.


Come home and let's gather around the crack of fire so we can hear what the grey hair has to say. He sits humbly and stares with watery eyes as the blind are still being pushed to lead the blind. His heart pounds like evening mortar; his cloths smells ancient; his back arches with many years of distinguished thinking; his hand tremble as he writes these words; and I know he is only sent here to show us the way.


Come hear the Prophet speak!