T h e   S c r o l l s

Are Being Opened to the

   R e a d y   W r i t e r  

by Theresa Phillips

May 25, 2009

Intro by editor, Julie Smith of ElijahList & ElijahRain magazine:

I love this word by Theresa Phillips! The visions and words she shares resonate deep within.

You see, God has spoken in depth to me about the upcoming "Scroll Writers" who are being released; the very words they write will change the atmosphere.

In the darkest environment, they will "smite with what they write."

And being Asian, the Lord has specifically spoken to me about the "Ancient Asian Scrolls" being revealed. There are two God-given gifts the Lord has given to the Tribe of Asia - wisdom and honor. Both go hand in hand. Wisdom and honor is Asia's inheritance and God is opening up Ancient Asian Scrolls that will be a legacy to Asia and an inheritance for its children's children.

Lord, we say YES to the scroll writers being released!

Julie A. Smith, editor
The ElijahList & ElijahRain magazine

 

Theresa Phillips:

"My heart is indicting a good matter: I speak of the things which I have made touching the king: my tongue is the pen of a ready writer."-Psalm 45:1

While driving, I saw a flash in the sky. I looked up and saw a huge cloud shaped like a quill -

I saw a perfect feather and tip...

I was stunned. I was in awe. I began to think, I wonder what the angels are writing? I wonder what is being written?  Is a record being taken? What have I done?

So much went through my mind at that moment. That is what happens when Holy Spirit is moving...you react.

The WORD was on my mind. Just words. I felt a slight panic. What is it, Lord?! Lots of thoughts flooded my mind with great anticipation, so I pressed in to that moment with great fervor.

"Let us acknowledge the LORD; let us press on to acknowledge Him..."   Hosea 6:3

Then I saw in the spirit, a high mountain. On the top of that mountain was a man dressed in clothes of long ago. I gasped..he is from the Ancient of Days! I just knew it. Who was he? He was writing on parchment paper; he had a scroll. My heart leapt inside, and I knew something was being released.

He, the Lord, was speaking to me,

"It IS time. Time, time, time, time...

The scrolls of the ancient ones are being opened to the ready reader...

scrolls of Law, Righteousness, and His total will and essence.

Write, write, write, write!"

"When he takes the throne of his kingdom, he is to write for himself on a scroll a copy of this law, taken from that of the priests," (was he a priest I saw?) "who are Levites. It is to be with him, and he is to read it all the days of his life so that he may learn to revere the LORD his God and follow carefully all the words of this law and these decrees."  Deuteronomy 17:18-19

The Pens of Ready Writers are Going to Write as Never Before!

They will write:

• The words of plenty during famine.

• The words of hope during despair.

• The words of healing during mass illness.

• The words of grace during unease.

• The words of peace during battles.

• The words of love during times of hate.

Then I knew: the writer is being released.

The prophetic writer, who will prophesy from the realms of Heaven, the word of Heaven-looking for that great and beautiful day.

Even memories of the evangelist, speaking of that day of the coming of the Lord, will emerge...but they will be different.

They will speak of glorious encounters with GOD.

Heaven to Earth, Heaven to Earth, Heaven to Earth, I saw the quill writing across the sky.

The Quill Turned Into a Paintbrush

"And He carried me away in the Spirit to a mountain great and high,

and showed me the Holy City, Jerusalem, coming down out of Heaven from God."    Revelation 21:10

As I continued to pray and press in to know HIM, to seek what He is doing, I saw the quill turn into a paintbrush (the sky was ablaze with magnificent color) and paint glorious star-studded skies and plush green grass and trees filled with all the seasons of the earth, all blooming at once.

The scene was approachable and filled with light and the light became life - it was abundant!

"The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament sheweth His handywork."    Psalm 19:1

Then I heard again, "It's time - TIME, TIME, TIME of the creative writer;

TIME, TIME, TIME of painters of mighty words.

Even in song, WRITE, WRITE, WRITE.

Be a ready writer of the GOOD NEWS!

The paintbrush will write across the heavens and declare the beauty of the Lord.

Look up, O Church! Look Up, O lost!

I will call upon the gifts of the artist in the days of darkness."

"...my tongue is the pen of a ready writer."    Psalm 45:1

Theresa Phillips
Praise Ministries International
Email: Info@chicagopropheticvoice.net

ElijahList Publications
310 2nd Ave SE,
Albany, OR 97321
www.elijahlist.com
email: info@elijahlist.net
Phone 1-541-926-3250

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The Wheat and the Tares

The Wheat and the Tares, the Wheat and the Tares,
the harvest is coming soon!

Come now and hear a story, a story about the sod.
A story of good and evil, told by the Son of God.

The kingdom of heaven is like a man who sowed good seed in his field.
And while men slept, the enemy came and bad seed there concealed.

When the wheat sprang up, to the servants' surprise,
The tares did with them grow.
"Master, shall we gather them up?"
And the Master answered, "NO."
"Let them grow together now until the harvest time.
Gather then the tares to burn - the wheat put in barns of mine."

The Wheat and the Tares, the Wheat and the Tares,
The harvest is coming soon!

The good seed are My children, the tares are the devil's own.
They both grow in this weary world, until the end is known.

The reapers are the angels who gather out the tares,
And cast them into a furnace.
What a terrible doom is theirs!

Choose now, choose now which seed you'll be
Growing up in the earthly sod.

The righteous shall shine as the Son that day
In the kingdom of their God!

The Wheat and the Tares, the Wheat and the Tares,
The Harvest is coming soon!


(from Matthew 13)

(c) 1965, 1990, 2009 Raylyn Terrell

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AMERICA'S TRUE FREEDOMS . . . a Meditation

Communication

Good and effective communication requires that there be some common bond as a basis for understanding.  Here in the United States of America most of us have the English language.  But there are many people within our borders who do not yet speak our language. We must teach them.  It would be good to learn their languages and at least, 

we can learn their songs. 

                       

Music can cross barriers in minds and hearts, better than anything except love.

                       

Love is the most universal communicator of all.  Love means acceptance.  Love means forgiveness.  Love means reaching out to help each other in time of need, and love also  means a willingness to convey liberating truth whether people want to hear it or not.  Let us learn to express the truths we hold dear so as to draw the hearer, if his mind and heart be open.

                       

          Truth can open up the prison doors of the soul.

         It takes love and courage

         To walk through those doors.

            

On the other hand, deception and outright lies are the tools of freedom's enemies.  If a society can be convinced that universal realities such as love, truth and freedom are vague concepts open to all kinds of hazy interpretations, that society will be like a piece of swiss cheese: full of holes.

                       

If, however, those who practice love, seek and respect the truth and possess freedom, will communicate these realities to others, they will become the bearers of peace.

                       

The other necessary ingredient to this recipe is self-discipline.  Many wrongs against individuals and the American public have been committed by those who have not been trained in the responsibilities of their liberty.

Let us join forces with those honest brothers and

sisters who seek to bring the remedy. . .

 

AND LET US PRAY!

Practicing Medicine?

 

            Another freedom-syntax problem is the phrase, "practicing medicine."

                       

    

Most medical doctors in the U.S.A. are not true health practitioners, and hospitals in the main, are not healthy places.  M.D.s diagnose and treat symptoms.  They are trained in institutions funded primarily by the pharmaceutical industry and foundations controlled by the same profiteers. 

An organization such as the American Medical Association (A.M.A.) HAS LITTLE CLAIM ON THE WORD 'HEALTH' TO DESCRIBE ITS ACTIVITIES.  Medical practice in the U.S.A. has for many years meant drugs, surgery, radiation and little else.  All three modes of treatment are often harmful and sometimes fatal.  This situation has long existed, in spite of Hippocrates exhortation:

FIRST, DO NO HARM. 

                     

The second dictum of Hippocrates was hidden from public view by the medical societies for most of the 20th century:

                      

LET FOOD BE YOUR MEDICINE 

                 

There are true health professionals however, and these include chiropractors, nutritionists, midwives, naturopaths, and physical therapists.  They also include some medical doctors whose eyes have been opened to the possibility and promise of human wholeness, understanding the purpose of the immune system and its care. 

                     

Let us acknowledge and understand these truths:

We must teach ourselves and others the laws of health, taking personal

responsibility for ourselves.

 

This will change the American medical system.

 

This will change the insurance industry.

 

This will change Medicare.

 

Therefore, the American people will be set free from

the strangleholds of these systems which have

bankrupted families and the nation. Avoiding the tragedies

of disease and early death is not "practicing medicine." 

In the United States of America, medical science concerns itself

with diagnosing disease and the attempted removal of

symptoms.

M.D.s in the main, know very little about building and

maintaining true health. 

 

Let us remove the smoke and mirrors of allopathic

propaganda and practice.

 

"I Am the Lord who heals you" is one of God's names.

 

He did not create the present American medical system.

In fact, since its roots are planted in greed and deceit,

it's got to be abolished.

 

No more band-aids. No more life-support.

No more inflated dollar infusions.

Especially, NO MORE ARMY OF LOBBYISTS

TO CONGRESS AND STATE LEGISLATURES.

 

The rotted tree is coming down and its roots being

pulled up.

NOW is the time for the American people to learn how

to naturally prevent disease, early aging and death,

and the impoverishment of their families by America's

so-called "health" system.

 

Every time we speak or write the truth of these things,

we drive nails into the coffin of the system that's

already dead.

 

It's time to bring forth the new, healthy model for

America and the world.

Compassion! Education! Moral and financial support!

 

Let's go for it!!!

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It was nine/one one, of year '01; a day His mercy covers.

I'll not forget, it's with me yet; as with so many others.

To the Tower that day he went, his office in the sky.

A banker he, with soul so free, not knowing he might die.

 

Across the way that fateful day, the fire was raining down.

No time to doubt, "Let's get out!" What a bad day in this town.

The "temp" and he, 'twas plain to see, they should not wait 'til later.

He had to flee, my son Stanley, and ran to the elevator.

 

Cover us, Lord, oh cover us. Cover us under your precious Blood.

 

Others joining with them too, ran to save their lives.

Then at the concourse they were told. "Go back!" as they arrived.

So back they went, by authority sent. "It's going to be alright."

The "temp" was sent home. My son returned alone, to his office in the sky.

 

A fearful sight, from that great height, my son then saw before him.

To run was vain, as the airline plane was about to ram the building.

Miracle started, by God imparted; the plane's course veered just slightly.

Jumping under the desk, this was no jest! God's hand covered him tightly.

 

Loaded with fuel, under Satan's rule, the airplane tore on through.

Exploding then, killing women and men; missile in the terrorists' coup.

A wing was there, so close to where Stanley strained to arise from the rubble.

The evil one's lust spewed flame and dust; yet Stanley stood in a bubble.

                                                            

He did not cower, but with great power, shook off the debris cover.

He felt God's strength and all the length of him rose as an angel did hover.

"I want to see my family. Lord! Help me through this hour!"

Though cut and bruised, defeat refused, he resisted the Devil's power.

 

A flash of light brought a beam so bright, from a man beyond the wall.

They called and prayed, in faith obeyed; God's Spirit would not let them fall.

"You're no match for me and My Lord!" God's strength was pouring through him.

Punching through, the man helping too, the stairwell they entered in.

 

Stanley and Brian, battered and sighin', made their way down 81 sets of stairs.

To Trinity Church they came besmirched, to offer thanks and praise.

As they reached the gate, on that nine/one one date, they turned around to gaze.

And as they looked, the building shook; that giant and proud endeavor,

World Trade Tower Two, like its twin Tower One, collapsed and was gone forever.

Cover us, Lord, oh cover us.

Cover us under your precious Blood! 

© 2001 Raylyn Terrell  

To God be the glory! 

[From testimony of Stanley Praimnath written by a friend, and posted on the CBN website. Stanley was
a deacon and Sunday school superintendent in an Assemblies of God church on Long Island. He was an Asst. Vice Pres. In loan department of Fuji  Bank. His office was on the 81^st floor of World Trade Tower #2
in New York City.]

                                                                                           

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Have you ever read, "All things are possible to them that believe?"

 

Yes it is true! Miracles still happen.

 

It was the middle of June, 2006. I had just spent six weeks in a family homeless shelter for the second time in a year. I had no money, and there were no invitations.

That night I pulled my car into the lighted parking lot of a shopping center. Trying to stay cheerful, I prepared to sleep. It was do-able but not comfortable. The ambience of the lighted parking lot was mine again the next night and the next, and the next. That fourth evening I asked someone I knew for permission to sleep in my car, in their driveway. The answer was NO, so back I went to the parking lot. The next morning found me fatigued, frustrated and angry. I walked around near my car, venting to God, and praying every way I knew. Then His touch of love came and I became more peaceful.

 

 

It was Sunday. I drove to the church and went into the lobby.

A friendly missionary-in-training who knew of my homeless situation asked,  "How are you doing?" 

(I probably looked awful!)

Wearily I said, "Do you really want to know?"

His voice showed his concern. "I really do."

So I told him.

His face registered shock, as he heard my story. "That's horrible! 

Don't leave after the service. Wait for me. I'm going to go find some pastors. Then I'll come back and tell you what they say!" He said this over his shoulder as he quickly walked away.

As the service was ending, my friend rushed up to me with a grin that lit up everything around him "It's a miracle and they know it! A mobile home was donated to the church, and they want to offer it for your home! While they get the place fixed up you'll live with me and my wife. OK?

Now I was the one who was shocked! Only God could have done this, and to think that my emotional pit was only two hours behind me!

 

A friend and I celebrated at lunch, then I drove twenty miles to the home of the missionary couple. They were sitting on the front porch with their two-year-old twins. Their warm and welcoming smiles and hugs drew me into the family in a hurry. I was nearly numb with relief and quiet joy.

 

Their home was my home for the next five and a half weeks as I came and went, attending three college classes a week, studying and working on computers at the public library. During this period I also watched after a pair of fourteen year old twins while their parents were working.

 

When three weeks became four, we were getting concerned and really trying not to be anxious, because my friends had just sold their home. Their moving date was coming up fast!. Then in the fifth week, I was given a key, and with the help of two friends, entered the trailer home to do some cleaning. Several days after that, I said farewell to the missionary family, loaded my few things into the car and moved into my new home.

 

It was July 21, 2006 and hot -- very hot. For that first week, I would arrive  home after dark, when the temperature had gone down a little. Since I had agreed to pay for the utilities, and had not yet been able to arrange an account with the electric company, I did without the power. No refrigeration, no lights, no water heating, no stove, no clothes washer and dryer, and

NO AIR CONDITIONING!

 

On July 28th, I was able to make delayed payment arrangements with the electric company, and within several hours, all the above were working. Did I ever sing praises and thanks that day!

 

When I moved in, it was to a decently clean place with only a futon and a unique blue rug. Other than these, there was no furniture or accessories. That first week I camped overnight, with doors on opposite sides of the trailer partly open to admit whatever breeze might be blowing. Of course I was praying and trusting God for my safety and wellbeing. I really needed the cooler air.

 

Then with the electricity turned on, things began to improve quickly. The youth ministry of the church had scheduled a home invasion for my place, and the week before, I was asked to submit a shopping wish list.

 

So on Saturday the 29^th, twenty-five teenagers, their youth pastors (with wife and baby), and several parent helpers, invaded with basic kitchen equipment, shelf unit for one bathroom, new towel and washcloth sets for both bathrooms, and a tall bookcase.

 

The refrigerator and freezer were well stocked, and staples put on shelves. It was a wonderful gift! Before they all drove away, we went onto the porch and everyone sang "Happy Birthday" to me! Their final gift was the killing of some wasps, and the removal of their nest. I was really being well cared-for.

 

Several days later, two strong men and I drove the twenty miles to my friends former home, now empty, and from the garage took the lovely blue sofa (double reclining), and table with six matching chairs. These were gifts from the missionary couple. Later, after they were placed in my living area, I said to myself : NOW this is beginning to look and feel like home!

 

Week by week the gifts continued to come: a pair of end tables with drawers, and two brass lamps. Several nice pictures, a microwave, plates, cups and glasses, a coffee maker, iron and ironing board. A computer work station came, and a computer system as well. Then a television and VCR were added.

 

A bed, desk and chair, pillows and bedding furnished the guest bedroom. A nice bed linen set was given for the futon, and in my favorite colors! Two armchairs-man size, were given as well.

 

Now I was ready for company.

 Yet, even as my household was being given to me, my automobile was taken away.

When an official of a non-profit organization heard I was in danger of losing my car, he said: "I'll see what I can do." But somewhere along the way, he gave up on the idea, and did not inform me. My hope for this particular help was in vain. So, on the morning of September 5, 2006, I opened my front door to find that my car had disappeared from its parking space.

 

Several phone calls revealed that the car had been repossessed while I slept. The shock lasted for several days, and my way of life became greatly restricted. Since I live more than three miles from the nearest bus stop, the bus is not a practical answer for me. I was over seventy-four years of age and in quite good health, thank God. By grace, I prayerfully resigned myself to a new lifestyle, mostly lived in the mobile home.

 

There were occasional phone calls to the company which did the actual repossession, because my personal property within the car was not returned to me. The license plates were not returned either. After nearly six weeks, the company agreed to make a nominal payment to me for these things.

 

There were calls to the bank which owned the note on the car. There were calls to prayerful friends. Gradually I was at peace with the situation, and began to make the most of the peaceful tranquility which was God's gift to me at this time.

 

Internet research, writing and editing, along with prayer and Bible study were my daily activity. For exercise, I walked to the postal lock-box, and some blocks further. I walked to the shopping center five blocks away, and carried back my purchases.

 

While in the grocery produce section one day, I admired some tomatoes, thinking how nice one would taste. Considering the small cash amount in my purse, I passed by the tomatoes thinking-"Another time, perhaps." As I walked with my shopping bags to the highway where I would cross, I stopped to push the pedestrian crossing button. My gaze went down to the base of the pole. Then I saw it!

On top of the cement footing holding the pole, lay a fallen leaf.

Perfectly centered on top of it was a beautiful, ripe tomato.

Now I got very excited, and as I imagined an angel placing the tomato there for me to find,

 I thanked God! The reader may try to explain this away somehow, but it was very big for me, and it really did make my day!

With an extra spring in my step, I finished the walk back to my home in the park, repeating to myself: "Seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you."

And then, "Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you

the desires of your heart." Oh yes!!!

 

 

 

 

A word to the wise: 

Don't ever try to tell a plant lover: Speaking to plants is foolishness!

Down in his spirit, he knows that whether spoken to fellow humanity, or to plants or animals,

 When truly spoken, words of love and encouragement are the

carriers of LIFE !

       May we speak the words of LIFE as well.

 

 

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T h e    F l o w e r    C l o w n

                                                                                                      

The Watcher waited, seasons changed,

While the inner work was done.

A perfect preparation arranged

Fed by soil and water and sun.

The seed had been sown in fertile ground,

The roots had grown down into love.

Strong roots they were in the garden's mound,

Making healthy the plant above.

The leaves coming forth in verdant hue

Proclaimed His loving power.

Then from the branch there sprang anew

A radiant glowing flower.

The branch is brown, the leaf is green,

The flower purple and pink.

An Artist's delight to His eye so keen

And to heaven a glorious link.

Now beauty and joy will bloom as one

As the loveliness joins with mirth.

For He has created a Flower Clown

To reflect His own joy in the Earth!

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

!ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

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Literary Connection II

Literary Connection III

High Flight

Ballad of the Tree

Drivin' Home

Power of Gold

Rainbow Dancing

The Seniority Factor

Three Kinds of Prayer

True Freedom