His Fire.
What a dream.
In it I saw the silhouette of high rise buildings. Of a modern landscape. Of our city.
In it I saw a fire kindled from one end.
In it I saw the flames skimming across the top of the buildings. It spread. From one end to the other end.
I woke. I asked myself whether it meant otherwise. A scene of destruction. A scene of the end. It was not. There was nobody screaming, no suffering, no wailing, no cries for help. It was something else. It was the Fires of revival.
Revival is coming.