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COME TO THE LORD

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Come, beloved. Come to the Lord. Come because the river flows freely to all who thirst. The Spirit and the Bride say, “Come!”—and let the one who hears echo it still. Let the one who is thirsty draw near, and let the one who desires take the water of life without cost (Revelation 22:17, NASB). There is no cost but surrender. No price but your pride. No payment but your praise.

Let your soul rise now and walk into His presence. The Lord is holy. The Lord is above all, seated high and lifted up. The train of His robe fills the temple, and the whole earth cries, “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts, the whole earth is full of His glory” (Isaiah 6:1–3, NASB). Do not stand far off. You were made for this presence. The river is here. Come and be immersed. Come and be filled.

The wind blows where it wills, and you hear its sound—but do you not perceive the Spirit moving? Do you not feel Him calling you deeper? He comes to rest on the yielded, to dwell with the hungry. “If anyone loves Me, he will keep My word; and My Father will love him, and We will come to him and make Our dwelling with him” (John 14:23, NASB). Lay it all down. Every lesser thing. Every fear. Every idol. Let your flesh be silenced and your heart rise with the cry, “More of You, Lord. Only You.”

You sang the songs. You lifted hands. But now He calls you to live it. To walk where the river leads. To yield your vessel and be filled with fire from above. “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you shall be My witnesses” (Acts 1:8, NASB). This is not a performance. This is not an echo of yesterday’s fire. This is the glory of the Living God, descending now—hovering over you, waiting to rest within you.

You asked, “How long, O Lord?”—but He asks you, “Will you come away with Me?” You cry for victory, yet hesitate at the altar. The fire falls where the sacrifice is laid. The cloud descends where the people wait. The river breaks forth where dry ground is broken. Come, not with pretense, but with hunger. Come, not to be seen, but to behold.

Come to the Lord.

He is able. “Now to Him who is able to do far more abundantly beyond all that we ask or think, according to the power that works within us…” (Ephesians 3:20, NASB).

He is the One your soul longs for. “As the deer pants for the water brooks, so my soul pants for You, God” (Psalm 42:1, NASB).

He is the glory we cry out for.

He is the river we wade into.

He is the fire that rests on us.

He is the house we were made to dwell in.

Prayer

Lord, I come. I lay it all down—my sin, my striving, my self. Wash me in Your river. Rest on me with Your Spirit. Let Your glory fall here and now. I long for You, and You alone. You are holy, You are able, You are above all, and I surrender to Your presence. Lead me into the deep places. Fill me until I overflow. Let my life become a house where You dwell forever. In the name of Yeshua, amen.

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Visions

Vision of the Living Church: A Revelation of God’s Life

I was in the Spirit on the Lord’s day, and behold, I was carried away to a vast, open plain under a sky that seemed to pulse with the very breath of God. The air was thick with the scent of fresh rain, mingling with the fragrance of blooming flowers, as though creation itself was alive and rejoicing in the presence of its Creator. As I stood there, I felt the earth beneath me trembling, as if anticipating the unveiling of a great and wondrous mystery.

Before me, I saw a mighty tree, ancient and strong, its roots dug deep into the earth, and its branches stretching out toward the heavens. The leaves shimmered in the light, rustling like the whispers of angels, and from its branches hung clusters of fruit, radiant and alive with an inner light. The sight was both awe-inspiring and inviting, and as I approached, I heard a voice, clear and resonant, like the sound of many waters, saying, “Come and see what the Spirit reveals to the Church in these last days.”

As I reached out and touched the trunk of the tree, the world around me began to shift and transform. The ground beneath my feet softened, as though it had become as smooth as velvet, and the sky above darkened, not with the gloom of night, but with a deep, majestic hue, as if a great veil had been drawn over the sun. In that moment, I beheld the Church as it is today—a multitude of faces, some bright with joy, others dim with sorrow; some burdened by the cares of this world, others wearied from the long journey of faith. The air was thick with the scent of smoldering embers, the remnants of fires that once burned bright but had now nearly died out. Yet amidst this scene of weariness, I sensed a stirring, like the first breath of dawn, carrying the distant scent of a fresh anointing.

As I watched, the wind began to blow stronger, carrying with it the scent of spring—fresh, vibrant, and full of the promise of new life. It was as though the very breath of God was moving through the assembly, awakening those who had fallen asleep and kindling a new fire in the hearts of the weary. I saw the breath of God breathe life into the dry bones of a people who had grown faint, and as the breath touched them, their eyes began to shine with a new light, their faces lifted as if catching the first rays of a rising sun. The fragrance of life filled the air, and the weary were refreshed, their spirits quickened with a renewed zeal. It was as the prophet Ezekiel had seen, “I will cause breath to enter you, and you shall live” (Ezekiel 37:5).

Suddenly, I heard the sound of rushing waters, and from the roots of the mighty tree, a river burst forth, crystal clear and flowing with unstoppable force. As it surged through the plain, life sprang up wherever it touched. Along its banks, trees rose, their leaves shimmering with a silver hue, and fruit bursting with the sweet scent of ripe figs. The waters sparkled, reflecting the glory of God, and mingled with the song of birds, creating a melody of creation—a symphony vibrant and alive. The words of Scripture echoed in my heart, “There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God, the holy place where the Most High dwells” (Psalm 46:4).

Wherever the river flowed, the barren land became a garden, and dry places were filled with green pastures. People from every nation came to the river, their faces alight with hope. As they drank, their strength was renewed, their spirits lifted as if borne on wings of eagles. It was the river of life, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb, bringing healing to the nations (Revelation 22:1-2).

As I stood by the river, the presence of the Lord was with me, and His voice, like the gentle rustling of leaves in a summer breeze, said, “Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28). The invitation was open to all, and those who were weary came to the river, and as they drank of its waters, they found rest for their souls. The river was the life of God, flowing freely to all who would come, and it brought healing, restoration, and peace to all who would drink.

Then, as the sun began to rise, I saw the Church transformed before my eyes. No longer were the people burdened or weary; they stood tall, clothed in white garments that shone like the morning sun. Their faces were radiant, their eyes filled with the light of Christ, and their voices joined in a song of praise that echoed across the plain like the sound of many harps. The air was thick with the fragrance of myrrh and frankincense, a sweet offering rising to the heavens. The words of the prophet Isaiah rang in my ears, “Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord rises upon you” (Isaiah 60:1).

I saw a great multitude standing before the throne of God, their robes washed clean, their hands raised in worship. The scent of incense filled the air, and the voice of the Lord thundered like a great storm, “Behold, I am making all things new” (Revelation 21:5). The Church, once weary and divided, now stood united and strong, a bride adorned for her bridegroom, ready for the day of the Lord.

And I saw the heavens open, and a voice from the throne declared, “Now the dwelling of God is with men, and He will live with them. They will be His people, and God Himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away” (Revelation 21:3-4). The vision was clear—the Church had been purified, refined by the fires of trial, and now stood as a holy people, a royal priesthood, ready to inherit the Kingdom prepared for them from the foundation of the world (1 Peter 2:9; Matthew 25:34).

The vision began to fade, but the fragrance of life remained, lingering in the air like the memory of a beautiful song. The voice of the Lord still echoed in my heart, calling out to His people, “Rise up and live in the fullness of My life, for the time is near.” The words of Jesus resounded in my spirit, “I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly” (John 10:10).

This is the vision I saw, a revelation of the Church as it is to come—a Church alive in the Spirit, walking in the fullness of God’s life, and proclaiming His glory to all the earth. Blessed are those who hear this word and take it to heart, for the days of fulfillment are at hand. Amen.

#visions

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