The Vertical Climb

Outside my kitchen window I could see a huge black bird purposely dive bomb a gray squirrel. It was a big squirrel, but the bird was huge. I wasn’t sure who to root for, I don’t particularly like either creature, especially around my garden. The squirrel dodged the bird and ran straight up the closest tree. The bird took off to bother someone or something else. It was like he just wanted to torment the squirrel, then move on. No agenda, just orneriness. The squirrel continued his vertical climb all the way to the top of the huge fir tree. He probably climbed about 60 feet before stopping to breathe. At that point, he was hidden from view and probably feeling relieved and safe.

And that reminded me of us. When we are frightened or threatened, or confused, we have the privilege of being able to run straight up to Heaven to take our places where we are seated with Christ Jesus. (Eph. 2:4-6). In that spiritual place of peace, we find rest and comfort. All fear is gone, all threats fall away unfounded, and all confusion becomes clear. I just wanted to encourage all of you today, no matter how hard it is, how laborious it is, make the vertical climb. Jesus waits for you, with open arms. Make the climb and everything else falls away. Be refreshed, renewed and reminded of who you are. Climb that tree.

The Spy Report

        Have you ever gone on a mission in prayer? What would you do if the Lord called you to the enemy’s camp to spy out future plans? Would it look like this?

Part One

Into the enemy’s camp.

    It looks like any ordinary board room. A long table with executive chairs, pitchers of water and paper cups sit on a tray in the center. New agenda-filled notebooks are at every place along with legal pads and pens. It’s a summit meeting. The princes of the principalities sit at the table, the head is Satan himself. The room is almost ordinary; floor to ceiling windows anchor one wall, allowing for a spectacular view of a great city. The oddities lie in the décor. Featured in an air-tight container, perfectly preserved, is a piece of fruit; two small bite marks score the surface. The tiny foot of an unborn baby forever floats in a suspension of formaldehyde in a glass urn on a sideboard. Next to it, more gleaming trophies of successful deception are arrogantly displayed. A microchip mounted on a plaque of gold; the symbol of new vanities to come. Mementos of genocide and terror; super viruses and evil collectables adorn the furniture. This is the trophy room of the enemy. This is the planning center, surrounded by reminders of former victories. It’s meant to spark new ideas for evil in the participants.

    This is no ordinary summit, it’s a strategy conference. It’d a planning meeting of the high rulers of the air to prepare for the events to take place May 30, 2017 through August 1, 2017. The kickoff is being discussed; the design guys are coming up with ideas for nationwide destruction over the United States. It’s perfection, acts of terror, dirty bombs, power outages, tornadoes and cruise ship sinkings, are being planned for the Memorial Day weekend. The Marianas Trench is to swallow ships, both military and cruise ships. There will follow a twisting, a perversion of weather. This is a varied and all-out assault on the U.S. and other nations to follow. Kim Jong Un, the favorite son of this group, is about to be used again. He will destroy American ships in the Marianas near Guam. He is the tool, the wedge, that the enemy uses at the moment.

    I stand near the closed door of this inner sanctum, not alone, but with Jesus. We are invisible and undetected to the enemy and his room of blind followers. These are his most trusted minions, the elite of demons. These are the dark angels who followed him from the beginning. The prince of Europe sits at his right hand today. He is being rewarded for his leadership in terrorist activity. His demeanor is haughty. He is proud of his accomplishments and anticipates much more. The prince of Persia quietly seethes on the devil’s left side. He is, after all, the king of terror in his own mind. His underlings are advanced in the art of uncivilized horror. He will have his day again at the right hand of the master. He thinks harder, searching for new ways to create chaos.

    There are charts and maps and graphs in the notebooks. There is a list of highly populated cities where crowds will gather for the Memorial Day celebrations. There is a festival in France that is a planned target as well as a beautifully ornate church in Bulgaria. The room reeks with the stench of sulfur as the scaly dark leaders bring their excitement to a fevered pitch. They have consulted the law, they know where they may enter and how to pervert the lives of earthly creatures. Humans, how they hate them. How they desire to see death and destruction and perversion of those nasty beings God created for Himself. The more they can steal away and trick, the better. If they can deceive more, they can laugh at God all-the-more. It is a fearful laugh that pushes the truth of their own future to the depths of their reason, but a laugh none-the-less.

    Today they plan; they are encouraged to think outside the box and invent new unseen and unprepared for atrocities. They are all too aware that they must plan events that are so outlandish, that the pray-ers won’t think to come against. Satan spits out the word, “Intercessors”. He would love to destroy every one of them, but can’t. It is written, touch not God’s anointed and do them no harm. How he hates their protective covenant.

    The team has been working for hours. The room has taken on the foul perfume of ammonia and sulfur and offal. My eyes water but I remain, taking notes. They are agreed, Guam is the target. The first target. The plan is for North Korea to fire missiles at the tiny nation. Make the islands tremble! Let the inhabitants scramble for the hills they snicker knowingly.

    Satan pounds a worn gavel. Enough! I need more fresh ideas. An eerily quiet voice, gravelly with age and exposure to dank halls and putrid smoke, speaks slowly from the center region of the table. Let us make a surprise attack. Let us come from the unexpected. Consider Switzerland; a mecca of indifferent peace, finance and austerity. Let us stealthily use our well-groomed bankers to create havoc in the world banking system. Let us implement our one world bank, then take for ourselves all the riches of the world to use as fodder for next group to be called into action with empty promises. A self-financing faction of hoodwinked humans. Genius. A ballot was passed along the table, the ayes have it and the suggestion becomes a plot. A subcommittee will be formed and the evil plan carried out.

    Spurred on by the genius of the simple strategy, the others begin to toss out schemes. Evil, arrogant giggles spread through the room as new blueprints surface. They can barely contain their glee at the thought of such destruction and chaos. They know the time of free reign has come. There are enough of them now, enough of these stupid fragile human creatures that blindly ignore the evidence of the reality of Jesus. They have been carefully and painstakingly groomed to come alongside us and to carry out more of our dastardly plans.

    “Oh yes, my trusted lovelies, whispers Satan, we are ready to begin our assault.”