H.B. Tweedle
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Sunday Sunrise - October 23, 2016

10/22/2016

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Father says "Look over my city". I look. The city of Jerusalem. His city has already woken up. I see the sun rising, washing across the stone upon stone buildings. Illuminating. Bringing light, birthing light, through windows into the hearts of homes like he shines His light into us, illuminating our hearts of stone.

The light of His Son. His Son Rise. His Son Rises over His city. He says, "I will come. I will do what I say I will do. I will do what I say I will do."

Early morning street-sweepers, delivery trucks and construction jack hammers rattle their wake up calls through our walls, shake us, urge us to close our natural eyes, to see with our spiritual eyes.

This nitty-gritty city. Indeed, this land, strives not just to stay alive, but to thrive, to shine the brightest light it possesses to illuminate the world.

He calls from the roof tops of His city. He whistles for his children. All who have ears to hear let them hear. I say to you, all who have ears to hear, let them hear.
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