reconnaissance and refreshing

her life had gotten out of balance with too much work and not enough play. it was no secret she was a type a, often needing friends to give her permission to slow down. she’d given herself a day trip to the beach, sensing jesus beckoning her with his hand. it was time.

when saturday morning arrived, she slept in an hour or so. when she did get up, she went about her preparations quickly and purposefully to have a full day at the beach.

coffee in hand, she packed the car and drove down to the highway, turning right to go across the mountain pass. only half a mile down the road, her car seemed to steer itself into a u-turn in the middle of the road. now, she was headed west taking a different route to the same destination.

this was the second time in a month she’d done a u-turn in the middle of the highway. at least there were no flashing lights in her rearview mirror this time. that was a different story. the prompt to change directions did signal that something was afoot.

 

Megler Bridge
photo credit: pixabay

memories began to flood back as she thought about the other times she’d been on this highway with him. she thought of the places they went. there was the coast guard museum, baked alaska on pier 11, that crazy long, high bridge that crossed into the next state. they were good memories but she wasn’t going to those places without him today.

today was about rest, refreshing, anticipating good things to come. they would begin again right where they left off, but better than before. they would be stronger as a couple. father said so. he knew.

previous dinner conversations at baked alaska came back to her. how he watched her expressions as she talked about seeing them in the future, hand in hand jumping off a cliff filled with joy and excitement. it was great vision for a great life. they’d eaten there three times. three was a good number.

oh nuts, she missed him. and she was fatigued and burned out. tears came to her eyes. father said, “when they come, let them come.” she nodded. she knew what was being worked out in each of them was best.

she took one deep breath and exhaled. and another. she did it until her shoulders began to relax. after driving about 45 miles, the tension begin to lift off of her.

the drive was peaceful. it was early, not too many people were out yet. in the distance, she saw the fog drop down to kiss the tops of the mountains. it was delicate and breathtaking. father was a master at romancing her through creation. he never failed to win her heart.

she was within city limits when she saw the black, unmarked law enforcement vehicle pass her in the opposite lane. it wasn’t a local leo.

no road trip was complete without some undercover work. something was going on in this port city. whatever that something was was going to shift from darkness to light.

she went into tongues, and the revelation came quickly. human trafficking. this is a port city, of course it would be that.

like deborah had done in the old days, she judged this activity as unrighteous work of the enemy, commanding it to cease and desist in the name of jesus.

she released light into the darkness commanding all these hidden things be exposed. then she called to the prodigal sons to return home to their father. he was waiting for them, loving them right where they were. she released angels to release all the captives.

sand dollar
photo credit: pixabay
her work done, she drove on to the beach to meet father, jesus and holy spirit for the day.
(copyright © 2017 jane doe)
Advertisements

hidden victims

it was monday night. after she got home from work and made dinner, she went upstairs to stream the show she missed on sunday night. father always gave her revelation through the stories and visuals. tonight would be no different.

human trafficking was the topic in the department of state. one nation’s leader insisted it was ‘under control’ within their borders. but this president was willing to take his blinders off for a minute and lend his cooperation if a famous american starlet agreed to attend his birthday party. he was narcissistic, yes, but not unredeemable.

after much back and forth drama, the starlet agreed to go. operations were put in place to protect her and to rescue those being trafficked.

at the beginning of the program, several of their faces had been shown and their voices heard.

their captors were angry that they’d spoken when they were supposed to remain silent. they paid a price for speaking. but their voices were heard. they were now real to the rest of the world.

the state department staff watched in horror as the operation played out. their faces fell as they watched the foreign nation’s ‘police’ allow the traffickers drive away unimpeded into the dark night. the men’s faces were unseen, their names unknown. their identities remained hidden.

the revelation struck her suddenly. the enemy had no issue showing the world the women and girls he had taken hostage in this underworld drama. he let them speak occasionally, and he let them be seen. it added to the drama, the trauma and the fear factor.

but the other victims? they remained hidden.

 

Hidden victims blog
photo credit: pixabay

 

these victims were the men, lost and desperate for father god’s love, his nurturing heart that would fill every void.

the enemy had perverted their need and given them other men’s wives and daughters to satiate the desire. but it was never enough and it never satisfied. it was why they had no problem allowing a truckload of women and girls to suffocate to death.

father showed her the men were just as much victims as the women and children. but the enemy hid them, knowing his game was over when the men were freed from this bondage.

god made men to be the head of the family.

when the men are strong, the families are strong.

(copyright 2017 jane doe)