I felt the Spirit quicken my heart. I had to rise and ask His design. My heart hurts. Oh, the burden!
Are great many are running hard toward hell. They march
like mindless zombies. Their stride is in rhythm with the Pied Piper's,
with Satan's hypnotizing melody. It is beautiful, but wicked. It is
unlike anything they've ever known, saw, or felt, but it numbs them from
feeling the sting of their conscience; the pull of the Spirit, checking
them, convicting them over the crimes they've committed against God.
Even many of those that sit on our pews are dabbling in the forbidden. They move forward with a glazed expression upon their faces. They're oblivious to the thick darkness that moves upon our land; of the imminent destruction that looms near. Their eyes are blinded by the god of this world. While their life consists of little more than cell phones and social networks, Delilah rocks them into a deep coma. Like Samson, they will be afflicted.
To the luke-warm, the self-righteous pharisee, the hypocrite, the prayerless mother, the burdenless, Spiritless father: Will we reject Christ? Will anyone try and stop the lost from following Satan to hell? Will anyone lift their voices, breaking the trance? Will anyone be alarmed? Will anyone break free from the steely cords that hold them, that have them entangled, making them slaves to this deceitful world and its diabolical ruler, long enough to make an eternal difference? Is there anyone who will pray; intercede for the souls of our youth?
God, wake us, shake us, break us before it's everlastingly too late. In Jesus' name, Amen!
Even many of those that sit on our pews are dabbling in the forbidden. They move forward with a glazed expression upon their faces. They're oblivious to the thick darkness that moves upon our land; of the imminent destruction that looms near. Their eyes are blinded by the god of this world. While their life consists of little more than cell phones and social networks, Delilah rocks them into a deep coma. Like Samson, they will be afflicted.
To the luke-warm, the self-righteous pharisee, the hypocrite, the prayerless mother, the burdenless, Spiritless father: Will we reject Christ? Will anyone try and stop the lost from following Satan to hell? Will anyone lift their voices, breaking the trance? Will anyone be alarmed? Will anyone break free from the steely cords that hold them, that have them entangled, making them slaves to this deceitful world and its diabolical ruler, long enough to make an eternal difference? Is there anyone who will pray; intercede for the souls of our youth?
God, wake us, shake us, break us before it's everlastingly too late. In Jesus' name, Amen!
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