David Hood
Senior Member
Joined: 07/31/2005
Location: United Kingdom
Online Status: Offline
Posts: 355
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Posted: 12/09/2016 at 2:33am
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Let the Lion roar.
Yesterday, as I read the result of the first full-scale debate, by MP’s in the House of Commons since the Referendum on leaving the EU.. I saw the “ MASSIVE MAJORITY” of 461 to 89 in favour of triggering Article 50 by next March.
As I thought of this, rejoicingly, I became quietened and it was then I heard, in that ..quiet ..
I heard a single lions, single roar…….and it was being spoken into a night that was almost at it close, just at darkness but still yet light …and I felt it echo and straddle the failing light, traversing this days horizon, more dark than light. Against the dimming light I see a ruin falling
A building, it was now almost all falling, but just its bedraggled tower standing, silhouetted against the night. I’ts adjoining wall crumbling, its single bricks still falling in slow motion, in a quiet but eerie silence, as if I’m watching a grand epic but without sound. I see people running, darting from ruin to ruin, but I know and see, it’s Baal’s tower that is crumbling, its servants seeking cover, for this towers’ shadow covers them no more.
I see to the foreground a solitary soldiers grave, and upon the stake, its helmet and rifle hung, shrouding the name, to remind us of those fallen to get us here. Though the name is unseen, they are and will never ever be forgotten. For all this that has and will be won is not without cost. But remembers those who sought to do the will of the Father for its nation .But also, for the higher calling of the Nation, the kingdom of god, the kingdom of heaven here on earth
Much that has been, that is, that will be to come, will be due to the vigilance of the one who’s single roar, penetrates the gloom of this nights dying might, for the sun is not yet set, for it is still not fully night. For he has stood watch for aeons, across our centuries, watching from eternity, before all things began, eternities gate open, gives constant sight of our now. His voice utters the resonance of not just his support but also his determined interventions, purposeful and afore hand. The call of his kingdom is the call on ours.
But against this foreground, laid back, behind this soldiers cross, as if overshadowing yet accompanying it, there looms from the grounds’ rising mists another’s cross. Its wood rises, pulled horizontal from the ground, to stand upright, but not bare. Its timbers are cut sharp, in clear geometric dimension, each square and angle, perfect and accurate , and aligned to show the exact precision of what is happening here. These timbers have not been hastily and roughly hewn and put together, as if for ones unexpected death … they have been designed to show forth the 4 dimensionality of this cross … and upon it is held a soldier of old. Semi naked and beaten, dirt marked and blood streaked, our Christ, the Christ, though cloaked in death he is clothed with heaven.
But unmistakably a man … over whom is superimposed, the struggling soldier, arms akimbo, of Rome’s army, a single centurion in full battle robe.
But this soldier struggles, as Rome struggles, to free itself from the grip of the cross, whereas our soldier, simply is held by something more powerful than the will to escape. For he is held there by the desire to let his blood flow for the lost, rather than to be the cause of others blood flowing from the still living, as it seeks to follow Baal’s edicts and commands,
But the message is to us here, as we his own, footsoldiers, at times struggle and engage to see and find the victory won, even as we ourselves, count the cost. Fear not little flock its the fathers good pleasure to give you the kingdom, I will not leave you helpless, I will not leave you as one alone, as fatherless, as orphaned, I will come to you. By our champions final rest of obedience, we see the glory that he causes to be already won
For in it and though it all, we see that we are crucified unto Christ and Christ is crucified unto me. And … at all helmet strewn graves of his soldiers, though now laid quiet, finds opened grave not shut in death, but opened wide in life, that shouts of his victories that are ever alive. And every fallen warrior, will stand amongst, heavens fully accounted for ranks, for none that has been given him, will ever be lost.
But it is more than that, neither Rome’s centurion, Rome’s capi-tans of even its highest command, nor its mightiest Legion, will ever come down from the place of his nailing. Will never escape, from this cross that they sought to diminish and bring down, no matter how they struggle. For it is written, the Lord laughs for he has already placed his Own, high, wide and alive on mount Zion height.
Struggle as he may, like the bronze snake of the desert, the same shining snake of Eden, he will never come down from where Christ is risen from, and claim earth’s crown. For this is where it is forever written …13For the circumcised do not even keep the Law themselves, yet they want you to be circumcised that they may boast in your flesh. 14But as for me, may I never boast, except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, through which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world.
Yes not only has the world been crucified to me , but the world and all its power has been, and still is and forever will be, crucified to him. Held ever fast and from Him there is no escape. Held fast, though struggling still in its final night, to escape Christ’s grip, its like the flag, blowing faintly, ripped from its own pole, its own high place, and will never escape from our lions vice like grip.
Baal’s struggle, merely enforces and works still deeper the nails, fashioned by the blacksmith of old, I am victory and not for the Somme. Not here the needless disaster, Not here the slaughter and mess, But here the myrtle and larch grow ,Here, I bring my rest
For out of this gloom comes the shimmering rising son of his mornings might, putting to flight the things of the night. Exposing, burning and shrivelling up every root and branch, leaf and tree and seed of many kind that is not of him. Until there be be no place to hide, nowhere to shelter, not for its insects nor the larvae of its things that further seek to scurry, thought unseen in the night within the roots of earth’s mighty tree and its grounds. All will be laid bare and scorched as the axe is finally laid to this tree and its root.
Let the Lion roar.
Glory be to His name for ever
… for it’s all alone of Him, its ALL of Him, this victory he has graciously and joyously given as ours.
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Topic: Let the Lion roar
