I’ve touched the sky.
I knew not the why
Except its glory drew me nigh
O Who am I?
Earth stretching high
On Heaven’s terms I made my cry
And when the earth had strained its length,
With all its strength,
The lightning sprang.
Light slashed through dust with powerful bang!
Air’s stillness rang,
And angels sang.
Oklahoma got hit by tornadoes.
There was a sign reported on the news:
A cross hanging on power lines.
A woman said. “God is with us.”
This is my interpretation.
A cross hangs from the power-lines
Lifted unlit by the sun brightened clouds
The judgment of a nation brought down from the sky
Stopped short at the suffering servant raised up
Before the swirling torrent of the Heavens
Which could touch the land with fingers
Not a fist.
There are intercessors fitting into His palm.
Who pray that His hand might open.
He is good. But will He find faith upon the earth?
To you who pray for God to bless America, and to have mercy on us, but are unwilling to get involved, I have this word against you.
Why do you pray
And ask Me for things
When you are unwilling
To do anything
As a part of the solution?
Who do you think I am?
Who do you think you are?