Faithwalker's Journal

Jeff Strong, Associate Pastor of Anawim, wrote this in his journal in 1992. His blog is:


Oh Lord, help me I can barely hear your voice. The dither and the clamor almost succeeds in drowning out your sweet voice. I find myself straining at times, to very limits to hear you clearly.

This world is locked in a death throng. Convulsing, screaming, thrashing about as some animal that was forced to drink a caustic concoction, refusing to accept the gift of healing and restoration.
The inhabitants are locked into slavery, through fear and deception. Their chains they themselves have forged with great care, link by link and ring by ring, long lengths that now they wrap themselves around with and each soul is securely bound.
Hear their cry, O how they weep and lament and plead for deliverance........ and yet they have rejected the Deliverer!

The Bride whom you have chosen lies on a bed of her own design. With symbols of power carved in adornment over the four posts and rails.
From a far it seems to glow with righteousness and the ground on which it stands is deceptively deemed holy. Upon closer inspection the righteous glow is the glistening light,reflecting on the blood of the innocent that pools and turns dark in the soil, as it stains the thirst earth under her bed. Drawing closer still, the bed trembles. It is not because of the earth, nor is it some holy supernatural presence;.....
No rather it trembles from the continuous act of adultery and whoring with many lovers.The Bride has polluted herself, with many diverse spirits and luring the souls of the unclean, to come lie with her. Calling come taste of me, for my betrothed is far away.

But the Groom stands on a hill across the valley. Watching and weeping as the procession of lovers enters and exits His brides chambers, knowing her defilement ever increases.With a broken heart the Groom with His Father, watch as the bride dances in Mockery of the grooms holiness and sings praises to her betrothed with poisoned lips and blackened heart. Secretly desiring the next encounter with her latest lover.

Anger grows and righteous RAGE explodes and I feel his white hot wrath emanating from his very presence. His patience is at and end. No longer is there a place for and intercessor. He summons His host to rouse the Prophet to alert the faithful who have not soiled their garments in the putridity of the whore.
The Lord has unleashed His judgments and will not call them back no matter how great the wailing of repentance.NO! matter what promises are made or dedicated or even done; for the abominations are many and the defilement is very great and the purging will be thorough, for my Bride will be ready.

Death in God is the birth of your spirit.
Death without God is eternal.