PRISONERS OF WAR

THE GARDEN, PART TWO

Continued from "The Garden", 10/14/04:

PRISONERS OF WAR

Then the Lord lifted my head and I saw a concentration camp like structure before us that was some way away from the main Garden. And as the Lord Jesus gazed upon it, a terrible grieving passed over His countenance. And immediately I saw two black signs with white letters drawn in them and the first read:

P.O.W.

As I looked nearer, I saw thousands of those who seemed to be prisoners walking or shuffling around the perimeter of the huge barbed wire fences. Their prison uniforms resembled those of the second world war concentration camp, but their uniforms were not all the same. The prisoners to the left hand side of the camp seemed very bound, both their hands and feet were shackled by heavy chains. In fact, the iron chains weighed them down to such an extent, that they shuffled rather than walked and a large majority of this particular sector were stooped and bowed down almost double.

As they shuffled and limped by in an unending aimless single file past the perimeter, I could see signs on their backs and this entire sector seemed to be dominated by one particular legion of demon keepers who would take untold relish in whipping them mercilessly as they continued their unrelenting path around the perimeter of the camp.

But it was the prisoners faces and bodies that caught my attention. Their faces were horribly contorted and twisted, and in many of their eyes was a terrible rage and fury that they should even be there. Their limbs were without any exceptions completely twisted and knotted, their hands were misshapen and crippled.

Then I saw hunchbacks, many, many hunchbacks and as I studied them more intently, I suddenly realized that the misshapen hunches actually had not been intended as part of their bodies and I saw signs that read – BITTERNESS, WRATH, UNFORGIVENESS, SEDITIONS, CLAMORING and SLANDER.

I turned back hurriedly to look for Jesus at the Garden, but He was no longer there, and then I noticed an old man with white hair, simply dressed in a brown homespun robe, with no great attractiveness of features, who came and stood quietly next to me, watching my growing consternation over the prisoners before me.

‘They were once Followers of the Lamb’, he said softly.

I looked back towards the Garden where the magnificently beautiful flowers and plants were flourishing and shook my head vehemently from side to side. The prisoners before me, bore absolutely no resemblance in any manner to anything or anyone who had enrolled in our amazing Warrior Kings army.

The old man smiled gently, sorrowfully at me, as though smiling at a child who was dull of understanding.

‘Come’, he said, taking my arm and leading me closer to the perimeter of the fence.

As we approached, the prisoners at the edge of the fence, pressed their faces to the barbed wire and grimaced, spittle running down their gnarled chins, jeering and clamoring. Their ringleader was the most vocal and ugly of all – with a double hunchback. He held an iron cudgel in his hand and slammed it across the wire in rage, as near to myself and the old mans faces as he could.

Slowly, the old man eased his right hand through the barbed wire and placed it gently upon the ringleaders knotted hunched back.

I waited with bated breath, as all at once a soft warm fierce coral colored wind blew across the entire camp, and the ringleader stared as though one entranced into the old mans eyes.

In an instant, I saw the ringleaders features change and soften and hot, burning tears flowed unheeded down his cheeks. And as I turned to look at the old man beside me, I turned and wanted to fling myself to the ground as though one dead, for facing me was the Lord Jesus Christ, in all His majesty, in all His glory.

Over six foot tall, arrayed in the robes of the King above all Kings, His robes shone and flashed like lightning and they were silver and they were gold but as He turned, in an instant, they were aquamarine and they were emerald and they deep royal purple hues. His skin was as burnished bronze and His eyes were clear and fierce and yet carried the mercy and the tenderness of all the ages.

He wore a swordbelt around his waist that glistened with jewels of many hues.

And just before I, in turn flung myself to the floor, I looked around. Every prisoner at all four corners of the concentration camp quadrant were fallen prostrate onto the ground, face downward, worshipping.

And then Jesus smiled – and the whole of heaven was in that smile.

Gently, oh so gently, He took my hand, his right hand still on the ringleaders back and eased me back up onto my feet.

‘This man before you was one of my finest servants. He was a missionary in one of the most uncared for and unevangelised parts of the earth. It cost Him greatly to leave his country and his home to do this work. He sacrificed greatly for me.’

The ringleader now clung onto the Lords hand desperately, as though never wanting to let it go.

‘He served Me faithfully for many, many years, unseen by others, his family going through many trials of faith for my kingdom, fighting persecution, disease, deprivation. Even his church who sent him didn’t appreciate the magnitude of his and his family’s service and sacrifice for Us.

But he and his family were not unseen by Me and My Father, and His sacrifice counted greatly to us in courts of heaven.’

Now the ringleader was sobbing, clutching the Lords robe. They were gut wrenching, agonized sobs. The Lord held him to him tightly, as a mother with child and gently laid his head at His breast.

He looked at me with a terrible grief.

“After many years of faithful sacrifice, many new and younger missionaries came into his area and reaped greatly from the multitude of seeds that he had sown in the hard and fallow ground.

The area became such a harvest for souls that soon, there were great accolades from all over the world for the new missionaries. They were invited to world conventions, received vast amounts of finances for their mission work and were lauded by the Princes and Kings and Ambassadors of that region.’

‘And this man was overlooked.’ I whispered.

Jesus nodded. His eyes tender.

‘Yes. No one, not even the new missionaries gave him honor for the faithful tilling of the soil for years. It was not with intent. My young zealots were enthusiastic and still growing in my ways, but after all the hardship he had endured, it was too much for him to bear.’

‘But why is he HERE?” I looked in shock around me. ’This is the ENEMYS camp, but look how he clings to you.’

Jesus closed his eyes for a brief moment.

‘He is a prisoner of war. He has been taken captive by the enemy. In his agony of soul of being overlooked and his isolation, he quickly started to lose sight of the courts of heaven and eternity and fell into a deep, deep, depression. I sent some of my servants to deliver him and lift him out of it, but he quickly came to the place where in bitterness of soul, he refused all help offered. Then because of that same bitterness, the demons started to torment him day and night, telling him that I had abandoned him.

This was very difficult for Jesus. Oh, beloved child of God, if only we could each realize the incredible magnitude of his love. Jesus voice was very soft.

‘I said I will never leave you nor forsake you, that I am with you forever, world without end...’. Jesus wiped a tear from his eye.

’ This was a man of great prayer …..and of worship. But now, he stopped communing with me and my Father. And the demons voices held more sway in his mind and he started to heed them and became filled with bitterness and unforgiveness until even his own family didn’t recognise him.

He left them and led by his demon captors, lived as a recluse, consumed by self pity and bitterness, hating the church and rejecting My people…and Me.’

I looked in amazement at the ringleader on his knees, still clinging to the Lord Jesus hands, his gnarled face bathing in the radiance from that most beautiful face.

‘My Church gave up on him, until no one visited him, no one cared for him and He was left only with his torment. If My children had kept praying for him, if they had kept blessing him, if they had loved him with a love that believes the best, that endures all things, that never fails, he would not be here today. In the evil that overwhelms the earth today, it is imperative that my people bring the captives to me in prayer for it is their prayers that enable the visitation of my presence and my power to invade these captive lives .Tell my children to pray without ceasing for these ones, and to never give up. No, never give up.

But today, someone has petitioned me and my Father with powerful prayers for His soul..”

Jesus looked at me.

‘This is why I have been able to visit him today, here with you, my child….because someone travailed for him. My power alone is strong enough to liberate him. ’

The Lord placed both hands on the ringleaders back and immediately the two double hunchbacks became loosed and came away in Jesus hands, and as they did, I saw inside them were great black worms and thousands of translucent eggs hatching and they all had names.

I saw some of them were vengeance, fear, unforgiveness, hatred, dissensions, depression, self pity, and as Jesus lifted them off his back, the crippled, deformed limbs instantaneously became straight and strong, the misshapen face became smooth and at peace .The old missionary started to worship Jesus, literal glory flooding from his face.

Questions flooded into my mind – Who would look after him..what if the Christians didn’t? what would happen to him?

But the Lord drew me away from the scene and was walking to the far corner of the concentration camp where there was a completely different scenario. Why! It didn’t even seem like a prison, more like a holiday camp.

The prisoners had bright, vibrantly colored, striped uniforms, with hats of all kinds and colors. Bright vermillion feathered hats and boas, golf caps, stetsons, beautiful black velvet wide brimmed hats, hats and masks of every persuasion. There was great festivity and everyone was continually feasting and drinking and partying to the loud incessant music. In fact, the music never stopped. There were men with men and women with women and men and women together, everyone looked young and toned – it looked like a who’s who collection of ‘beautiful people’. A far cry from the gnarled ghouls at the other side of the camp. But as I looked nearer, their skin and eyes took on a glassy sheen, and I saw that they were zombie like in their carousing.

There were gargantuan demon guards whipping them at intervals, and each time a whip came down, I saw LUST OF THE EYES, DECIETFULNESS OF RICHES, PRIDE OF LIFE….

To be continued in PART THREE….

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