IT IS TIME

It is clear.  As madness spreads—and the church wrings its hands—it is time for the eagles to leave the turkey yard.  You know who you are.  There’s a fire inside you can’t put out.  You are ruined for church incorporated.

For too long, you’ve been told to be a good little birdie.  “Don’t ruffle any feathers.”  You can’t stomach the stale kernels they toss at you.  You must have fresh meat.  All around you, the turkeys peck at the ground.  All you can see is the clouds and skies where you belong.

Your home is in the glory.  Your place is alongside the heroes of faith that changed the course of nations.  Survival teaching sickens you.  The idea that tepid happiness is the goal enrages you.

You made the mistake of looking at old YouTube videos.  You saw Oral Roberts.  You saw Kathryn Kuhlman.  You saw Smith Wigglesworth.  You jumped…