Message, Poem

Seek Me While I May Be Found – Ruth Johnson

Seek Me While I May Be Found

Nov 23, 2019, 3:51 PM
Ruth Johnson

Bring these Words to a lost and dying world:
Men who refuse to seek My Word get caught in their own spirit.
People have no purpose because they do not read My Word.
They suffer needlessly, I AM only a prayer away.
They only pray when they are in trouble then put Me away!
I AM A HOLY GOD!!! NOT AN idol!!!

Ancient of Days

The Harvest is Nigh

The Harvest is nigh
Going bad in the fields
The floods and the fires
Are destroying the yields.
Not only that, folks are running in fear
From homes burning down
In the cold time of year.
There are some heads standing
Above all the rest
Strong and demanding
To pass the test
When the angels arrive,
Sickles wielded,
Their presence made known
Their value revealed.
The wind and the rain,
Hail and snow, tornadoes and fire
May toss to and fro,
But these will still stand
Until cut by The Lord,
The only way to go by the sword.
The Sword of The Lord
Is His Sacred Word
Written in Blood
And sent to save the world
From the fires of hell,
From the demon’s snares
To bring us all Home
And release us from cares.
We worry about money,
We worry for our health,
The world is at war,
We war with ourselves.
We turn ourselves to chaff
Blown about on the wind,
Not knowing we are the harvest
Waiting to be brought in.
The workers are few
And they must work swiftly,
Winter is here, storehouses bare,
The wheat still standing
Will fill the Lord’s coffers,
The consuming fires
Will fill the tares.

Please! O children!
Hear My cry!
When the angels come,
The reapers arrive!
Be wheat not tares,
Be sheep not goats,
And please do not be caught
It is happening now!
The Final Harvest!
A blood moon soon to rise!
A third of the stars,
In the blink of an eye,
Fall straight out of the sky!
Do not be late to The Festival!
The Celebration Feast!
You could be dining
With your Father!
Or out in the cold with the beast.

All Praise, Glory and Honor to my
Father in Heaven through His Son,
Our Brother, Jesus Christ.

Thank You, Thank You, Thank You,
For giving us these poems and not
Just the pied piper of Hamelin.


Share The News
  • 0
%d bloggers like this: