Sunday, April 26, 2026

When the Wind Is Lifted: The Quiet Departure Before the Storm

 

Harpazo*Rapturo*Raptured


There is a stillness that comes before unraveling.

Not loud.
Not violent at first.
But like the hush of wind leaving a field...

“For the mystery of lawlessness is already at work; only He who now restrains will do so until He is taken out of the way.”
— 2 Thessalonians 2:7

The Spirit Who Holds Back the Tide

“The Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.” — Genesis 1:2
“He will convict the world concerning sin…” — John 16:8

The Spirit restrains what would otherwise consume.

The Revealing of the Lawless One

“Then the lawless one will be revealed…” — 2 Thessalonians 2:8
“With all power and false signs and wonders.” — 2 Thessalonians 2:9

Where Are the Believers?

“We who are alive… will be caught up together… to meet the Lord in the air.”
— 1 Thessalonians 4:16–17
“God has not appointed us to wrath…” — 1 Thessalonians 5:9

The Church is gathered. Lifted. Called home.

Not Absence, But Transition

“You are the salt of the earth…” — Matthew 5:13

Without salt, decay comes quickly.

What It Means for the World

Truth will feel distant.
Deception will feel natural.
Power will masquerade as peace.

A Gentle Urgency

“Today, if you hear His voice, do not harden your hearts.” — Hebrews 3:15

Closing Reflection

The wind still moves.
The Spirit still calls.
And the invitation still stands.

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Poem Template

A Whim to Write
On the art of starting again

I have a whim to write so write I will.
Can’t believe I am being this still.

I type and I type to no avail.
I can’t believe it, so I guess I will.

What says the key — can it really be
an a or a y? I really can’t say why.

I have a whim to write, so write I will.
When night time comes, I pick up my quill.

Some say I’m lazy and others say naught.
When I sit here and write, I’m not such a snot.

I love the sound of the keys that clank,
or the pen that strikes as I sit down to write.

Well here we go again, picking up where we left off —
not quite sure what to write, but at least it’s a start.

Good night my protagonist.
It was good to see you again.
I’ll finish your scene without you letting out a scream.

The days are long and the nights too short.
I’ll finish your story sometime in the morning.

With coffee brewed and in the mood,
I’ll pick up where we left off,
and again we will start.

— Written in 2015

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