ANCIENT GATES AND EVERLASTING DOORS….

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He buried his nose in the eternal scrolls like a pig sniffing out the heavenly scent of truffles. This morning it was the last verses of the 24th section of the Davidic songs that held his attention.  He could not wrap his mind around the reality of ancient gates and everlasting doors that heard and spoke. As he meditated on the puzzling chronicles, he found himself in an alternate world…..

..The Traveler was on his way to Honey Meadows where he was supposed to cash in the title deed that resided in the breast pocket of his garment. In his sojourn for destiny and fortune, he had met a certain Nazarene and they had become intimately close. However, the two friends had run into the most terrible bandits in the treacherous road they trekked (a place so dangerous, it was called the valley of death). To enable the traveler escape, the Nazarene had given himself up but not before giving him the title deed. “Take this to Honey Meadows and find my Father.  The deed has been signed in my name with my blood. With it whatever accrues to me; My Father would give to you. Go…RUN!” The sojourner ran, looking back every now and then as the agony of the Nazarene reverberated around inside the canyon with undying echoes. The punishment being meted out to him was brutal to say the least. With eyes full of the prickly sensation of unshed tears, The Traveler wondered what kind of love would make a man give up his life for a friend.

He got to where the City gates where supposed to be and could not believe what he saw. Instead of a human structure of concrete and steel, he came upon an ancient site of human sacrifices and altars erected to malevolent beings older than the world. The place reeked so much of wickedness that he gagged.  Foul mists of the offensive odour swirled around him.

Wild hyena shrieks of laughter and crazy ululations from principalities and powers from whose core evil was spawn mocked him to scorn. Goose pimples erupted from his skin like a harvest of apples in an orchard of death. The cold fingers of fear caressed him from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet. He knew there was no going through here. Desiccated skeletons of more hapless travelers picked to the bone littered the site.  Others milled about, sheep without shepherd whose lives journey had come to an end. Frustration, discouragement and weariness were tragic tales etched on the haggard landscape of their faces.

The small dirk by his side was useless against such timeless foes that contended with his progress. His journey had come to an abrupt end. However something in him rebelled! If he did not go through then the Nazarene’s journey would have been a waste… So what to do…

…as he meditated, he saw himself as one with the traveler. How to breach the gates became an overpowering issue.  Instead of looking elsewhere, he plunged deeper into the oceanic depths of the scrolls. Within the living letters were keys that were able to unlock even conundrums that existed before formed clay was infused with The Adonai’s breath in Eden’s vale.

As he dove deeper, the dove like essence of The Parakletos opened his eyes to revelatory treasures that stunned his spirit. The secret was to bring in the King of Glory on the scene. To know how to do that, he was led by the dove from the Davidic songs to the Acts of the Elders, an era filled with gates of restrictions and limitations that could not keep down the prevailing power of The Sovereign’s Rhema.

He discovered that there was a time, the Leader of the elders was incarcerated and the whole Ekklesia prayed for his release. A ministering spirit was sent from the heavens to release him. He was gently released with the gate quietly opening of its own accord. There were no frills and thrills. People around did not know that anything had happened. The gate could actually be shut again. The hinges remained intact. The guards did not know anything had happened until the next morning.

As he dove in deeper, he realized there was still a better way. He happened upon two members of the early Ekklesia who were also jailed. There was no intercession made for them but the two of them prayed and went further. They praised and worshipped thereby the two achieved greater results than a whole community of the praying early church. The Almighty did not send a ministering spirit this time, He came down himself.  He arrived on the scene with a loud noise. He tore the gates apart from the hinges, destroyed their foundations with an earthquake. People around knew something had happened! The gates were messed up for good! They were broken, torn asunder, distorted. Bands were loosened, manacles were destroyed and chains torn apart.

As he read, he knew what to do. The song “King of Glory” by Melissa How of the Jesus Culture group welled within his spirit and he gave utterance to it…

Verse 1) Your face outshines the brightest sun, Jesus you’re glorious. You are so glorious. With eyes that blaze like burning fire, Jesus you’re glorious, you are so glorious.

(Verse 2) Your face outshines the brightest sun, Jesus you’re glorious. You are so glorious. With eyes that blaze like burning fire, Jesus you’re glorious, you are so glorious

(chorus)
King of glory, have your glory.
King of glory, have your glory.
King of glory, have your glory.
King of glory, have your glory.

(Verse 3) Your voice like rushing water sounds, Jesus you’re powerful. You are so powerful. In your hands you hold the stars. Jesus you’re powerful, you are so powerful.

(chorus)
King of glory, have your glory.
King of glory, have your glory.
King of glory, have your glory.
King of glory, have your glory.
King of glory, have your glory.
King of glory, have your glory.

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As he sang, the songs filtered into the other world…

…..The Traveler found himself worshipping with bended knees and became oblivious of the pervasive maelstrom of diabolic intent around him.

Suddenly there was an explosion that shattered every altar within site, a raging fire that consumed every trace of evil. Within the fire, he was shocked to see it was the Nazarene.  He was alive!!! He looked different though. There was a ferocious leonine quality to him and he was surrendered by a host of ministering spirits with fiery swords that splintered the dark into sparks of jeweled fire.

The mocking tones of the keepers of the gates became whimpers of fear and imploration. They were quickly dispatched. Such carnage froze the feet of the Traveler, It was all very dream like.

Passage created, he was escorted into the land he sought, a place where the sweet meadows where evergreen and where songs never sleep…

Lift up your heads, O ye gates; and be ye lift up, ye everlasting doors; and the King of glory shall come in. Who is this King of glory? The Lord strong and mighty, the Lord mighty in battle. Lift up your heads, O ye gates; even lift them up, ye everlasting doors; and the King of glory shall come in. Who is this King of glory? The Lord of hosts, he is the King of glory. Selah.

You are cordially invited to THRONE WORSHIP’S April Holy Ghost party tagged “Resurrection Worship“. Venue is De Orange Place, No 5 Tokunbo Macauley St, off Emmanuel Keshi Street, Magodo shangisha, Time: 10am-5pm. April 19th.  Join us as we celebrate the greatest event in human history and experience the resurrection power overwhelm dead situations.  Please come fasting, Refreshment will be served, invite a friend, God Bless you as you come!

© 2014 Ekpo Ezechinyere

 

 

 

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6 thoughts on “ANCIENT GATES AND EVERLASTING DOORS….

  1. A wonderful blend of psalm 24 and the death and resurrection story along with the Acts of the Apostle and the good samaritan accounts. It brings back to us the reason for this season which is the supreme sacrifice of Jesus for us. Thanks Da king God bless you for this reminder.

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  2. the synergy in the word of God leaves me breathless every time, was breathing hard after reading this piece. Wow. well-done, more grace!!!!

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  3. Dr Swag, you have outdone yourself, the picture of the King embedded in the Lion is awesome and breathtaking. I broke out in songs to my King, singing He is exalted, the King is exalted on high and Frank Edwards’ Imama. This piece is a revelation for me, worship and warfare. Great work

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