Prepare for War

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Dear Jesus,

It was wonderful to wake up feeling refreshed.
I don't know what occurred during the night. No dream memory. All I knew was that I woke up feeling happy, even though I got out of bed a bit late considering the fact that today is a Sunday.

As I scrambled to take my Bible, something fell with a thud. It was the journal of Emily, my real mother. Grandma had allowed me to take it with me, saying I would appreciate it more. And she was right.

I picked up the journal and ran my hand over the leather surface. I brought it to my chest, humming a hymn of worship to You. I didn't open it. I haven't opened it since that first time in her room. It just feels too sacred, too intimate to open anyhow. I placed it back reverently on my locker and adjusted my body well to begin my Bible study.

"Holy Spirit, please will you minister to me. I want to know Your mind, Lord. Please commune with me as friend with friend. I'm ready to listen and, by your grace, obey."

The paper Lydia gave me was wedged between my Bible. It poked out when I was flipping through the pages. Again I saw the scriptural reference she'd scribbled on it. I felt Your silent nudging to study the entire chapter. John 20—the account of Your resurrection. It was as if my inner eyes were opened again and I saw many things hidden between the lines that I'd never seen before.

The empty tomb taught me that though I might not always see your form, you are alive in me. Mary Magdalene taught me the art of patiently waiting and earnestly seeking you. Your appearance to the disciples and your specific appearance again because of Thomas. I saw love displayed there. Your love. It was comforting. 

When I finished reading, I praised you for your new dimension of the Spirit of revelation and faith that you'd released upon me. Instead of praying and begging for you to return my sight, I didn't. I just praised You and asked You to give me the grace to walk by faith.
This was going to be my last Sunday at home, and I wanted it to count.

By the time we got to the church, all the ministers were already there, praying.

I was blessed by the message and your power was heavy upon the house as we rose to pray. I didn't feel bad or guilty anymore when I couldn't see into the spirit realm all the amazing things you were doing in the lives of your people. Instead, I chose to follow your lead, trusting blindly.

I kept hearing in my spirit, 'Prepare for War!'
However, just when we thought it was smoothly over, Holy Spirit hijacked the meeting and started in His style. And my my, it was epic as usual.

The music was ethereal. Those minstrels have a wonderful connection with your Spirit. It was like I was hearing the sound of Heaven. I wonder how the angels do it better? Will we be able to manage the harmony in Heaven like this without melting away from its glory of it?

It was a wonderful experience.
I basked in your presence like it was my second home. It felt so relieving to not be bogged down with concern that I am not seeing anything. I chose to hold on to the unwavering faith in my heart that you are with me.

As usual, afterwards, I preoccupied myself with entertaining the kids while Mom and Dad were bogged down with the usual meetings. 

It was around 4:00 pm that I was settled, having done all my chores. By 4:30 pm, after getting permission from Mom and Dad, I went to the park.

'Where are you guys? I'm waiting.' I typed the message and sent it to the Holy Priesthood group. Now, this was a branch group of the main one. Everyone on this group was Holy Priesthood members who are students in McChyenne College.

'Down at the lake,' came the reply from Kathy.

I made my way down there. All of them were there except three important people. After making calls of reminder, Portia, John and Mike trotted towards our group. I tried not to be distracted by John's fine face. I really did my best to think back to what happened the last time we met. *coughs*

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