The Pen of the Ready Writer

A Midnight Word From the Lord for Prodigal Sons

I got a word in the middle of the night for the Prodigal Sons out there, the Father loves you and is calling you to come home. And we, your brothers and sisters in Christ want you back as well. Come home. 💜

I sit at ease, in the place that I please,
With none to bother me there.
With an air of Hope and words- ready to seize,

I await the vision to become clear.

As the rain drips down on my window pane,

The methodical sound like music to the soul
And words dance ’round, with neither sight, nor sound-
itching to land down, with new life to be found,
Ready for their story to be told.

So when finally they come, and finally they flow,
As the tip of the pen scratches across the lines of the paper
The mind, soul and hand become one in the air-
holding the Pen of the Ready Writer.

Like a horse at the gate, chomping at the bit, ready to run his race-
With rider in tow,
he sets his pace, confident in his breeding:
thorough.

My spirit it longs, for His Holy Spirit’s deep songs,
Deep mysteries of future, present and past-
Words from above, spoken out of His love
For the poor, the lonely, the sinner or outcast.

I have a word for you, it’s time to come home-
You’ve been on the road far too long.
Like the prodigal son, you’re wrong deeds have been done,
Now come back from the lost places you’ve roamed.

There is grace and forgiveness and arms open wide,
None of which you deserve.
But it’s there nonetheless, if you cast down your pride-
And submit your heart to be purged.

The bridges you set ablaze, with your fury and rage-
Can be built from the heap once again.
But
you must be there, with the first brick to be laid-
For the miraculous healing to begin.

“Come home my sons”, the Father calls to you day and night-
Never ceasing in his passionate love.
He is longing for your safety, and can’t protect your rebellious flight.
But he can as soon as you cry out: “Jesus save me!”

All is not lost, you’re not too far gone-
The mess that you’ve made can be cleaned.
Hearts that break, can be mended with love-
God sews on patches without any seams.

And the family you discarded, with disgust- in disgrace
The beautiful gift through His kingdom He gave-
Is ready to forgive and receive you home once again-
From all of the hurt and the pain.

You see, the love of the Father “Seeks not its own”,
Neither power, fortune, fame or self-gain.
It seeks to encourage, exhort, love and support-
No greater Love is there than to lay down one’s own life for a friend.

And there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother,
A loyalty, noble and true-
A bond like Jonathan and David that says-
“As I love myself, I love you.”

Come home to this love, it’s been there all the while-
Even in your shame, you’re wallowing in pigs mire-
Alone- and defiled.

God places the solitary in a family,

It is not good for man to be alone-
You have a home finally

Now rest by the Hearth and the Stone.

Rise up, oh man of God, for your time has come upon you at last-
“Take hold of shield and buckler”,

Make yourself ready.
Stand- fast.

You were made for much more than you know,
You can stand on the sidelines no longer
Step out in faith, in righteous indignation
As your fervor for justice grows stronger.

I am calling the men, “put your childhood behind”,
Step up, step out- begin.
With the mantle of the Founders, firmly on your shoulders-
This is the battle you win.

It is time for the men, to lead once again,
But their hearts must be holy and pure-
You must be refined, cleansed in the fire-
And light up on the steed-
The White Horse of Liberty
The Mount of the Ready Rider.

Watch the word from the Lord from this morning with bonus encouraging word!

Rumble

BitChute

Clouthub

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ALSO: This word from our dear brother in Christ; Serge- goes hand in hand with the word that the Lord gave me above- in order to lead, you must be a servant, but you must serve in the proper SEASON God has placed you!

Bonus- Word from a viewer after listening to the word above:

“Michelle, I just listened to your word as a result from you visitation during the night and your poem. Caused me to remember the following which happened to me this year. I think it is a kind of like a sister poem to yours.

Before I share the poem, a little background: God has been speaking strongly to me through Ezekiel, on and off since the early 90s, warning about His coming judgment and laying it on my heart to pray for His wandering, back-slidden people. Now is the time for every one of His sheep to return and follow Him as their King every day! This last spring, God started speaking to me again through the book of Ezekiel. One morning, Ezekiel 37 suddenly came strongly into my mind. My thoughts about verses from this chapter were so clear and profound that I got up from bed and sat down to write about them. About thirty minutes later, I had a poem in hand that was about a great spiritual army that God was going to raise up on this earth in the not-to-distant future. I named it, “A Prophetic Poem,” (my background and place of learning hard lessons is evangelical Christianity… in which such a title does not fit well ). I think it speaks to the coming revival that I believe will come out of the current time of judgment we are under. Praying it will be soon!

A Prophetic Poem

The valley filled with scattered bones was silent, full of death.
Then through the air a question came, “Can these bones take in breath?”
They do not know that they are dead, for life left long ago.
Their usefulness was paralyzed by following God’s foe.

The man who heard the question posed was told to walk around
And see how many lives were lost and fallen to the ground.
There was no water anywhere; the bones were dry and bleak.
They could not hear the question posed, so none of them did speak.

Well, “Son of man,” can these bones live?” “O Lord, my God, You know”
And then He said, “Go prophesy, my pow’r to raise I’ll show.
Go tell these bones to listen up to what I have to say:
‘My Words will surely cause My breath to enter you today.

‘And you shall live and you shall know, dry bones that have no breath,
I am the Lord who breathed on you and brought you out of death.’”
The man then spoke unto these dead the words he had been told.
A mighty noise of rattling bones throughout the valley rolled.

It was a rumble from the ground, as if the earth did quake.
Then came together bone to bone in union none could break.
And on them muscles came with flesh, and over all came skin.
But still upon the ground they lay; there was no breath within.

The man again was told to speak; the prophecy was plain:
“Come from four winds, O breath, and breathe; give life unto these slain.”
The man did speak, the Spirit blew, and overcame their fate.
They lived and stood upon their feet, alive, an army great!

A heavn’ly chorus echoed loud across a brilliant sky:
“This army, filled with breath from God, it nevermore will die!
Its presence will cause foes to fall before the great throne-seat
To be a footstool for the King, a place to rest His feet.”

So what did this great army do? What vict’ry did it win?
The vict’ry Christ already won to bring dominion in.
The army with triumphant voice praised God and God alone—
The One who cast the devil out: God’s lamb upon the throne.

Jane Carole Anderson 

About the poem. God gave it to me just as my husband and I were finishing up a book we had been working on together for about two years (Return to Follow the Rightful King). As a result of the poem, we changed the subtitle of the book to A Timely Word to Dry Bones in the Christian Valley. We included the poem in the next to the last chapter.”

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