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Word of Prophecy

by Pamela Russell

February 19, 2006


Oh watchman what of the night?  What is thy cry?  Do ye cry, “all is well?” For ye know in your hearts that all is not well, no, neither shall it be for that day is upon all thy land, yea, ye have ripped away that very thin thread that held thy land to me—yea , ye have severed my hand that held thee—even my right hand, and ground the love that I have for thee into dust, and spread it in the mud of thine obscenities.


Hear me now, ye ungrateful generation, ye generation of vipers—seeking only that which will fill thy flesh with pleasure.  Surely Sodom and Gomorra would hide their eyes from thee.  Now is the day of JUDGEMENT upon thee. Thy land shall suffer as no land hath suffered; thy children also—because ye have not taught them my name.  They are without a foundation.


Surely the Angeles weep with me for the little ones.  Those who have been ripped from unwilling mothers and those who have, in their pain, turned from me, instead of to me—all because they do not know me.


Where are my warriors who will storm the gates of heaven and bring peace and salvation to pass?  Long have I waited for this day and long have I waited for thee to get upon your knees and cry out—sound the trumpets—sound the alarm---gather the people for a solemn assembly and beseech thy God.  For who knows but that He may hear thy cry and come and heal thy people, saith the Lord.



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