Dec | 11 | When one man’s madness was turned into music!

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When one man’s madness was turned into music!

Habakkuk 1:1
The burden which the prophet Habakkuk saw.

Habakkuk is no insightful ‘deducer’ of present circumstance, he is no futurist ‘perceiver’ of coming possibility, he is a ‘seer;’ a man of God granted future sight.

Yes, either in dream or in vision, Habakkuk is shown a coming horror movie, a film so vicious, so fearful, that it keeps him awake at night and through his long and burdensome days, bends his knees in complaining prayer, the volume of which seemed to increase in logarithmic decibels all directly related to God’s lack of response. In other words, the more God declined an answer to Habakkuk’s prayer, the more the volume of the prophet's pleadings increased, and to such a volume, that the sound barrier of the spiritual environmental noise levels were left smashed in pieces on heaven’s front porch, seemingly forcing God to finally come to His door, only to then dump six more carrier bags full of cinemascope full color Chaldean violent ‘slasher’ movie, into the shocked hands of the much troubled seer, with a now further command to ‘watch closely, and write an honest and no holds barred movie review’ concerning that which God was about to release. Now then, how is your prayer life? Now then, do you still want to be a prophet?

In response to these malevolent movies from the Most High, Habakkuk’s cacophonic and conclusive written review contained such powerful, such awful, such majestic and moving, fabulous and fantastic observations on God, his nation, and his own calling as a prophet and a man of faith, that it could only be rightly expressed and communicated as a stunning symphony, accompanied by a fully tuned up professional orchestra all attacking their instruments in full and vigorous volume, and in the so doing, Habakkuk delivered a film score which make even Scorcese weep.

Little is heard in the Scriptures of the ‘seers sheer delight in delivering a tasty little talk on God,’ however, much do the Scriptures speak about the prophetic burden, the weight, the knee squatting exertion of iron pumped heavenward, of the pregnant pain of pictures convulsed, that will only disappear in the delivery of the same. Note then, that the prophets of God are the pumping poets of the Most High, they are the poorly paid members of heaven’s Public Broadcasting Service, all painting pictures with words, whilst frothing at the mouth in unkempt discomfort, wet with sweat, wrestling with God whilst walking with a hammer in one hand, and a chisel in the other, with a paint brush and a pallet knife in their back pocket, whilst swaying over the face of blotted paper which has been pierced with broken nibs that indented hard words on sermon notes bathed in hot salt tears. Now tell me Pastor, speak to me preacher, what is the atmosphere of your study? What is the aroma of your place of work? How replete with blood bought Holy Spirit caught and prayed over arrows is your quivering Lord’s day message?

TALKS! “Come and here our talk!” “There will be a brief talk on the Bible!” Man – for I refuse to call you a man of God – man, if all you can do on a Sunday is deliver a tame and timid talk, then you may as well go buy yourself a feather duster, a furry top hat, a pair of buck teeth and coat made of budgie feathers! For all you are is a comedian, a joke, an amateur of letters and feathers. Church. We need to pray that God would make our preachers men with a burden! Even men with a message from the Most High God. And I tell you this, if all you are getting on a Sunday is a piece of dry bread on your dry hungry table, then I counsel you to stay on bed, for the comedies better when it’s delivered via cable.

Listen:- The burden against the Valley of Vision. What ails you now, that you have all gone up to the housetops, You who are full of noise, A tumultuous city, a joyous city? Your slain men are not slain with the sword, Nor dead in battle. All your rulers have fled together; They are captured by the archers. All who are found in you are bound together; They have fled from afar. Therefore I said, "Look away from me, I will weep bitterly; Do not labor to comfort me Because of the plundering of the daughter of my people." Isaiah 22:1-4 NKJV

Pray: -  Lord, send your men to the coal face of the study, to the hot stoves of heaven’s kitchen, that they might bring us back some coal for our cold hearts and some got food for our empty souls. Lord Your church is hungry! Send us some battle chefs into the field to feed Your sheep once more. Amen and let it be so.

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