The sound of singing like muffled rain drops on a tin roof can be heard in the distance. The heralds have their songs muted by the utterly chaotic noise of a confused generation, but make no mistake, they are singing still.

They bare on the wings of their song the blessing of God’s timing and His hand of Providence working in the lives of ordinary men and women. The Lord, Himself, is coming with an unfurled banner in open hand and a flaming torch in the other lighting the way for all who will soon be awakened in the morning of His greatest harvest. What a harvest it is sure to be! There is a revelation that leads to demonstration.

Let the wonder of His revelation grip our hearts that every barrier seeking to divide us will be consumed upon the altar of intercession.