Prophet Amos
This is from the blog Susanne Schuberth’s Poetry:
The Prophet’s Call
By Susanne Schuberth
Those who are aliens here on earth
Endure tormenting pangs of birth
They make the call to share their pains
Alas, the whore is bound in chains
She’s looking for applause of crowds
The prophets though are His ‘all-outs’
They call the stout to leave the wall
So they can hear the desert’s call
That calls for you and me, my friend
To leave that church which is a blend
Of truth and lies we might not see
And if we stay, we won’t get free
God calls us to the narrow path
So that we may escape His wrath
That is to come so very soon
When sun is darkened, and the moon
Where you can hear the weak one say
“He strengthened me, I’m on His way”
Don’t we reject the voice we hear
Through prophets’ words and by our ear
They urge us that we make our choice
And listen to His longing voice
The Lord’s still speaking to our heart
Because He wills that we take part
In joining them wholeheartedly
Who prayed to Him for eyes to see
The wickedness down to the core
Of Satan’s wife, his bride, his whore
See, all the years she took from Him
The fat, the wool, the sheep at whim
Still there is time for us to come
Unto the Lord before it’s done
The prophets who stand in the breach
Were called for us to pray and preach
Don’t we despise their words that hurt
Since Christ now wants to sift from dirt
A Prophet’s Eyes
The Prophetic Voice
Josephus on John the Baptist
Tim and Susanne,
This so well describes the journey I have been on! It is so good to find others here with me. As long as I was in the whorish system, I could not hear His voice clearly… I was a mixture at best. I had to go outside the camp unto Him and endure the stripping away from me all that was of Babylon. The lust for a Babylonian garment and a wedge of gold had to be crucified in me. I am so glad that He loved me so much that He let them turn on me and drive me out.
“We have an altar, of which they have no right to eat who serve the tabernacle. For the bodies of those animals, whose blood is brought into the sanctuary by the high priest for sin, are burned outside the camp. Therefore Jesus also, that he might sanctify the people with his own blood, suffered outside the gate. Let us go forth therefore unto him outside the camp, bearing his reproach. For here have we no continuing city, but we seek one to come. By him therefore let us offer the sacrifice of praise to God continually, that is, the fruit of our lips giving thanks to his name.” (Hebrews 13:10-15 KJ2000)
Your brother IN the Son,
Michael
The best fellowship is to be in the Presence of God, which is usually outside the camp of modern churchianity. The next best fellowship are with those who have been driven out of man-made church structures, those who have taken up their crosses and have followed Jesus.
Here is a great description of Spiritual Babylon:
“The Babylonish Church—Isaac Penington”
https://hitchhikeamerica.wordpress.com/2012/10/08/the-babylonish-church-isaac-penington/
“The Hidden Streets of Babylon”
https://hitchhikeamerica.wordpress.com/2012/11/10/the-hidden-streets-of-babylon/
Thanks Tim, I will check these to article out. I agree, the best fellowship is IN the presence of the Father and the Son. I am glad that they have let me find other pilgrims who have found no continuing city which they can call home, but seek that City which is to come. Have you ever read this allegory about our journey? “Escape from Christendom” http://www.awildernessvoice.com/Escape.html
God bless you, my brother,
Michael
Thanks a lot for sharing my poem on here, Tim. Much appreciated! 🙂
Susanne: Thank you for obeying the Lord and writing your poem. Sometimes poetry communicates what is in your spirit much better than prose.
You’re very welcome, Tim. Yes, that is so true, poetry can communicate the (sometimes more or less hidden) truth way better than prose does.
“The religious spirit hates the prophetic.”
–Dr. Sharon Stone