Thundering dust gardens

You're in the arms of the angel...may you find...some comfort here.

I can't help but notice little things. Little things that catch my eye at the perfect time, and all in consecutive order like placed before my eyes like reading the pages of a book. I wonder why, always why. Wonder what they are pointing to and wondering where they lead...how does this book end?
911 hit on the truck mile counter yesterday, along with red flags pointing to an end time battle. Today I feel my soul is wailing on the inside...and today pigs fly...like the old phrase 'so-and-so will happen...when pigs fly' and I wonder if this too points to something impossible that will manifest before our eyes.
But we all know how this book ends already, and it only ends well for some of us. I would like to think for all of us, all of us, even though I know not all of us are worthy. Hopeful that even at the last minute second, something on the insides of those of us who have ever drowned in the darkness could be lifted out to safety...even at the last moment, there's still hope. But I also think we have to want to be rescued....and unfortunately I don't think many people want to be. And I feel His pain of this truth.

Today it rained...yes here at our house, but has already stopped. Blessed rain set afoot on the parched dust-ridden ground where the clovers have shriveled to crunchy brown death. Too late to regrow now, much too late. Garden flowers somewhat still lingering on despite the love from heaven...but 10% of surviving flowers are not such a great thing when 90% of the green growing things suffered death. Maybe it's the same way with us too. Can only reap what survives, can only reap what is watered, but the rest...perhaps they must wait until the next harvest....as this one is almost over.
Be a flower. Drought tolerant and roots grown deep, shady green leaves to protect your roots, blossoms of color, joy upon the graveyard. Always stretching upward towards the sun, and thankful of each and every rain....and every cloudless day...and every night under the stars.
Flowers gardens are nice and all...but sometimes its the flower that grows out amidst the field that is prettiest of all. Standing proud to give Him a face upon the earth.


So much more to write today, but I think I'm going to wait.
Busy week so far and busy for the rest of it...and now is not the time to be idle.
Shall I write of the wind, of mountains and of dreams. Upon His presence that nears so close. Thunder rolls, breathing nears. It is not the breath, it is not the light, but something there are no words for. Listen and see. So close now and there are no words, nothing standing in the way. He comes....


Take me, to the magic of the moment, on a glory night...where the children of tomorrow share their dreams, with you and me...