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Prophetic Story - The Mercy Seat

I had never felt so lonely in my whole life. A multitude of emotions flooded my being, intense inner conflict and confusion churned within me. Each thought, each emotion, each feeling pushing me in a specific direction - suicide and death, relationships and sex, perversion and pleasure, alcohol, religion and spirituality, success, fame and achievement, all leading me to follow their path and leave behind my aching emptiness. I was so driven to pursue any one of the paths surrounding me that I could barely resist. All logic as to which path I should take left me. I had been crying out to God for some time concerning the state of my nation, pleading with Him to intervene and asking Him to give me His heart of intercession and mercy. God had given me some success in ministry but it had barely touched the surface of the vast need. I was doing all I could to minister to broken lives and heal the woundedness of my nation, but I felt so powerless to bring about any permanent change.

My pleading with God had become more and more intense over the last few months. I went once again to my prayer closet and cried out to God, feeling utterly frustrated with my barrenness in intercession. Sudden loneliness had overwhelmed me. God had put me in touch with the heart of my nation and I could feel every pull and path Satan was using to bring about destruction to those made in God's image. Each of the paths around me seemed to be personified. As I turned to each one it would plead with me to follow and come. I turned to the path marked suicide and for a brief moment felt it was the only alternative to get out of this hell.

"God, this is more than I can bear."

The pathways that surrounded me disappeared and I found myself looking at multitudes of people moving to and fro. Some looked purposeful, like they knew where they were going, some just followed wherever there was a crowd and still others just mulled about aimlessly. My focus was drawn to a couple of young children clinging to each other for support, searching for someone to help them. They looked frightened and confused. Mostly they were completely ignored. Frequently someone would collide with them, only to move on as if they weren't even there. My heart went out to them. They looked so lost and lonely. I wanted to help them, but realised I wasn't a part of the scene. I was seeing them in a vision. I prayed that God would cause someone to reach out and help them. The more I looked at them the more the Lord revealed to me. I saw them cowering in the corner of a room as a woman yelled and screamed at her husband. The man hit the woman and sent her reeling across the room. The two children were shocked and terrified, fearing that they would be the next victim of their father's violence. They desperately wanted him to recognise them, affirm them and be their Dad, but because of his anger and emotional distance they were unable to give themselves to him and receive his nurture. Instead the tender shoots of their developing lives withered and died. I looked into their hearts and saw who they were each called to be and I saw the destiny and the reality of the dreams God had placed within each one. Fear had so gripped their hearts that they were no longer able to be themselves, no longer able to be real. My heart sank in despair and grief overwhelmed me.

"Lord have mercy and cause what has been destroyed to live again. Open the eyes of this man and woman to see what they are doing to their children."

As I looked at the man I saw into his heart. I understood that he too had been the victim of violence and abuse. I could see him socialising with his friends. Behind the veneer of camaraderie were feelings of fear and insecurity, the need for acceptance and a place to belong. Abandonment and loneliness ripped at his heart. Although outwardly he was in control, inwardly there was great turmoil. He was frightened to let anyone see what was going on inside in case he was rejected. Alcohol and pretence had become the tools to sedate his wounded heart as his true self became drowned and forgotten.

I looked again at the multitudes which had first appeared to me and noticed a great throng of young people in their teen years. They were all moving, but not in any clear direction. The throng moved in mass, but every now and then there would be a distraction, a period of confusion and they would all start moving in a different direction. The throng moved in mass, seeming to look for something, but never quite finding it. After watching this for a time I began to hear music. It came first from one direction and then another. The crowd followed whichever direction the music came from. The music seemed to be in a universal language that the young people could understand, each song carrying a message. I listened for some time and realized these young people were being mesmerised and pulled toward the same paths of destruction that I had just encountered. Each song promised something, something to live for, something to satisfy the deepest yearnings of the heart, something to fill the void which was pictured and mirrored on their faces. Within the crowd I began to recognise three different types of people.

First there were those who gave themselves with reckless abandon to the pursuit of whatever looked good, felt good and promised to deliver. The second and largest group were simply swept along by the direction and movement of the crowd, looking confused and disorientated. The third group was relatively small and largely unnoticed by the first two groups but it was rapidly growing. These young people had become acutely aware of the false promises that were being presented to them and had gone beyond disorientation to disillusionment. One by one they were making their way out of the crowd to kill themselves. The reality of this was more than I could bear, more so because I was able to see the destiny and call of God on each one that died. Among them were apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors and teachers, musicians, artists, innovators, pioneers, managers, every conceivable destiny. I could also tell that the magnitude of the gifts and callings on this generation was greater than any other.

"Lord do something, anything, save the lives of these ones who you have chosen and called to preach the gospel of the kingdom to all nations."

As the scene faded from my eyes, I heard the cries and screams of the unborn children who had been aborted. Amidst the agonising and tormenting cries of the unborn I could hear the voice of the Lord, declaring over and over again, "for such a time as this, for such a time as this, I destined these for such a time as this."

"Lord it is more than I can bear. Forgive us for the blood of the unborn crying out to you from our nation. Lord the bloodguilt of this land is great, convict us of our sin that we may repent."

Then the fear and guilt of the many women who had had their children aborted overwhelmed me. I could feel their pain, their remorse, their agony, their guilt, their shame, the accusations and despair. My heart broke for these women as I felt God's mercy and love for them. The yearning of His heart to see them released and healed from the emotional trauma and guilt of what they had done was so great, I could hardly bear it. Lord set these women free and make them jealous guardians of life. Lord they have had to bear the guilt of this sin alone but I knew in my heart we were all guilty of following the idols of convenience and comfort that had led to the destruction of the unborn.

I was acutely aware of how destruction and death had permeated every sphere of society. Before me flashed the scene of the father hitting his wife, the children cowering in the corner, the teenagers and young adults trying to find some meaning in life but ending in despair and suicide, the silent screams of the unborn and the guilt and abandonment of the women who had been robbed of their destiny to nurture and bring forth life. The cry of adult men and women, children, teenagers, the unborn and the childless merged and came together with the cry of hopelessness and despair coming from the nations of the earth. I was overcome with the reality of wars, of poverty, of untold misery, of the loneliness of those orphaned through death, war and divorce, of conflict within families, regions and nations, brother against brother, and sister against sister. Truly the nations of the earth were wet with blood.

"Lord this is more than I can bear. Is there no hope? Is there no hope? Is there no hope?"

In my despair I was caught up to a scene of indescribable beauty, majesty and glory. I saw before me the throne of God. I was overwhelmed, the scene beyond comprehension. I watched as people from every nation came before the throne in intercession. I could see them kneeling and crying out on earth as they simultaneously came before the throne in Heaven. Each was gripped with the heart of the Father and cried out for mercy for their nation and the nations of the earth. Before the throne were multitudes of vessels, each containing precious oil. Recklessly they would take hold of one of the vessels of mercy from before the throne and throw it violently over cities, regions and nations. The vessels would smash, causing the perfumed oil to release its fragrance and healing and as darkness continued to cover the earth, whole regions were bathed in glorious light and revival such as had never been witnessed before. Coming before the throne in intercession were both young and old, men and women of every nationality and race. Never before had I seen such determination, purpose and resolve.

"Lord, call forth Your end-time champions who will come before Your throne to receive mercy in time of need. Give us grace to carry out the task You have given us. Abba Father, we need You. Let Your great mercy and love be made known across the nations of the earth. Wash us with Your tears O God. Cleanse us with Your words of love."