The Middle Space of Time
And he will send his angels with a loud trumpet call, and they will gather his elect from the four winds, from one end of the heavens to the other. – Matthew 24:31.
The trumpeters stand poised, on the edge of the field, waiting for his commissioning. The birthed few linger in anticipation for the Holy One’s nod to release the sound.
“Who are they?” I inquire.
Gabriel whispers, “They are the messengers.”
The sent ones wait patiently for the Ephphatha dew that opens the ones to behold. The restrained alarm waits for the few who ready for what is to become. The middle space of temporal time transitions into the fullness of unity and the tick-tock of waiting from one to the other prepares the ear to hear the new sound.
Those who contend in the waiting of time are those prepared to stay awake on His battlefield.
The wind hovers waiting to seize and carry the messages of the trumpeters to those, who in the waiting, have trained their ear for war. The trumpeters stand ready, to tap out Heaven’s Morse code to the earth’s few who hear the wind’s whispered call of Ephphatha.
The enemy takes aim at the trumpeters, hoping to silence the signallers on the edge of the battlefield. He quietly waits to intercept and deflect the new sound so that those who slumber miss the trumpeter’s plea.
For without the trumpeters who will hear Heaven’s battle cry for war?
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Between us
There is a line in the sand beyond which I proceed no further.
Where grace meets dismissal,
I hide from the line of the stick I carry.
I see borderland but not the one of my making.
I cry out for mercy for the line I now see
between us.
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Borderland
“He marks out the horizon on the face of the waters for a boundary between light and darkness.” Job 26:10
The middle space of war narrows to a hairline fracture as kingdoms prepare for war. The borderland kingdom of God is here. We camp on the edge of war, and in borderland discernment speaks.
Glory readies to shatter earth’s glass ceiling, slicing the veiled invisible. Holy smoke trickles up through the cracked glass beckoning thy kingdom down. Bleeding hands stretch up through the cracks in want of the shield and the white stones of peace.
The dim glass clouds the seer as he struggles to discern what his heart sees. Invisible leaks light to visible as the convergence of kingdoms bleed out the line that marks borderland.
In communion of shields we ready for war and with faith cupped hands we release the white pebbles of peace at borderland.
“He grants peace to your borders and satisfies you with the finest of wheat.” Psalm 47:14
Borderland – land located on or near a frontier or boundary, an indeterminate region
Kingdom Borderland – the spiritual frontier located between the visible and the invisible
HearJaneMuse 