🌙Twilight

I woke to the stillness of the early morning twilight. I looked to the bedside table and began to study intently the black-and-white photograph taken around 1947 of my Mother and her three sisters. They were all in their prime, ranging in age from their 20s to their 30s. The gift of "Jesus" belonged to their time. Christ and Him crucified, risen, and ascended, with the promise of heaven in the sweet by-and-by; this was the spiritual table set before them for their generation and generations before them. Congregations that gathered and filled many churches every Sunday sang hymns of the "Old time religion" and Amazing Grace. The Commandments hung on the wall and were like a beacon of "how to be good" and pleasing to the Father. The Covenant they represented was boiled down to forgiveness and grace, with little attention or understanding of the history behind it, which began at Mt. Sinai so long ago. There was a simplicity to their religion; the same "religion" I was raised in. But something was missing, something I sensed even as a child and teenager. It felt as though I was carrying a suitcase full of puzzle pieces with no key to unlock it. In turn, I carried it with me as my mother and her sisters did for decades. I had yet to really understand the indwelling of the Ruach- the importance of the Commandments. I had yet to go onto the threshing floor, to be emptied out and refilled with the desires the Father would place in the very core of who I am.

Now, in my 60s, I have the powerful and mighty restored Hebrew Name, the revealed Name, the authentic Name of "Yeshua," instead of "Jesus." I've embraced His Hebraic culture of righteousness through His Royal Law, which is His Commandments, as well as His Jewish-Hebraic ways. We are washing our robes in the blood of the Lamb daily. We are preparing ourselves to stand before the King. There's no more time for "religion": crisp, structured church services with designated, rehearsed choir programs; collection plates full of coins and dollars for restaurant dinners; padded pews; and church programs. No time left for three-point sermons, with a 3-verse benediction. We're now in an age of direct relationship; drawing nearer and being fed and nourished with the pure elixir of Truth, with the witness of the Ruach ha Qodesh. Jesus has taken on the title of "Messiah," Yeshua ha'Mashiach. He's a Royal High Priest, and a Bridegroom who longs for us as much as we "pine" after and long for Him.

We've seen the mistakes and short-sightedness of those gone before us. But in every generation, people are shaped by the revelation they're given. Unlike my mother's generation, we've come to know the unspeakable extent of evil in the world. The sin once committed in hidden darkness is now out in the open, legalized, and shamelessly on display. Today, I understand the vital necessity of keeping Covenant with YHVH through Yeshua's Atonement and by keeping His Commandments. We've been given an ointment for our eyes to see far more than our parents. Many are burning with a deep love and desire for Holy Elohim and our righteous Messiah. We've seen the world's bondage and cruelty. We've now entered into a time of hardened hearts, willful ignorance, and blindness. We've all seen it with our own eyes. We sense a separation happening; not one of our own making, but a communication impasse, brought on by the difference of "wills." Few are willing to completely submit to the eternal authority of the Word of Elohim, and others insist on worshipping at their own self-made worldly altars of iniquity.

My Mother's generation would not have been able to bear the enemy's wickedness and all the different directions the Beast system is coming together. The way insanity is "sold" as normal, and the fact that facts don't matter to the very people running the world, would have had them holding their heads in their hands in tears, wishing they could "go on" to escape the insanity we live in. My Mother died at age 91, and I remember her saying, "I don't belong in this world anymore." She was so grieved with evil on parade that she WANTED and was ready to go- it broke my heart. The evil of our day is incredibly intense, but the revelations that we've been given for these last days were reserved for US- for our generation; we are the "new wine-skins." Knowledge has greatly increased; prophetic events unfold almost daily; we live in the age of A.I., and mountains of digital information are at our fingertips. We live in a time where so much more is available for understanding. I'm completely humbled and so grateful that He still graciously speaks to our hearts in quiet, still moments. I can so clearly see His Spiritual gifts for His people being poured out, so His people can endure and win this epic battle that's been fought since the Garden of Eden.

We will enter His Kingdom by joyfully carrying our cross as we were instructed to do. We also will have come to the end of ourselves, and have but one desire: to be like Him; to be free of sin and its curse. When we see our Messiah, we will fully appreciate what His deliverance means to us as "set-apart people." The joy and reverence of that moment make me shudder!

There's no sweeter worship than the contemplative moments spent conversing with the same Ruach ‘ha Qodesh that descended like a dove upon Yeshua when He was baptized by His cousin, John the Baptist. My heart can almost hear the faint echoes of stringed instruments, flutes, and gentle plucking. I sense light permeating the unseen realm around me, and angels rejoicing as I am drawn, becoming "one" with the Ruach. Oh, to stay there- to linger on for a time- but not so, not yet. I dry my cheeks and wipe my eyes dry from the glory that just permeated my soul.

The cross I laid down long enough to rest in Him and worship waits to be picked back up. In the beauty of the afterglow of precious worship, the cross doesn't seem as heavy as it did; as though someone- something is helping me bear the load. Nothing replaces time spent in His presence. I love Shabbat, but those unplanned twilight moments when time seems to stand still, when the heart bows low and exalts His unspeakable majesty, are simply beyond words to describe. The humbled heart is revived, renewed, cleansed, and rejuvenated; it's whole again and strengthened, ready for another day to be lived in Him and for Him; ready to wield the mighty sword of His Word and stand in our identity as His set-apart people.

If you've enjoyed this post, please leave a comment and let me know you were here. I'd love to hear your perspective as well. Shalom