MY SINGING BECOMES ALL THE MORE CLEAR AND PRECISE
Jesus speaking: “As you move deeper into the spirit, My singing becomes all the more clear and precise. I sang this world into being and I will sing at its funeral a requiem so fitting, so beautiful –and a new world will be born. My Word is the music, and as each generation passes, the Andrews, the witches and those that allow their carnal mind to rule over them, relegate My Words to the same page as men’s words –no longer divine. The Music dies in their hearts and minds, and they drift away into the darkness. The long, cold winter is coming to a close, My loves; your prayers are as the opening stanza to My Millennial song of awakening. Our duet is bringing this world out of the darkness, and a new dawn is about to break forth. Stay with the rhythm, follow the Words, and don’t tell yourself that what is happening around you is not real –that it is not a song that you are hearing. Do not fear. Sing My beloved, sing with Me, sing with all, sing with all the angels and all those that have gone on before you, sing with all creation. Did you know the animals and the birds already know that change is coming? They are like My brides whose lamps are filled with oil, who wait expectantly for the voice of their Bridegroom calling. They know because they trust Me for their very lives. The sparrows and the grass of the field know because they are in My hand. It is My hand that feeds them, and it is My song, My Words, that will soon set them free. They know this, and so must you, My loves. You must know this too, but to be as these little ones, you must put aside your carnal mind, for are you not greater than the sparrow? You only have two things that these little ones don’t have –free will and majesty of choice. Choose to stay snuggled in the palm of My hand, choose as these that have no choice, trust as if you too have no choice, make the choice to be as they and put your lives on that limb and saw it off. That is the choice you can make. Or would you be as the world and choose the Devil’s own system, working as slaves for a world that is collapsing and crumbling like all the empires that went before? What are those mighty empires of man now but ruins and rubble where the bats and screech owl reside, where the dragons and satires prowl and the desert sands blow? In time they are covered and gone. In a thousand years, this last and final empire of man will be gone under the sands of time. It will be no more, with no trace, and will even be gone from the memory of most men. It will be as if it never existed, stricken from the minds of man, stricken from the records and history books. Only in their foolishness does carnal-minded man try to hold on to the past in order to justify their present existence. “Learn from history,” they say. They are hypocrites and liars and are of their father the Devil, a liar and a murderer from the beginning. They are following their father to that place where the bats, dragons, satyrs and wild goats live. Come away with Me, My brides, take My hand and let Me lead you across the sea of obstacles that stands between you and the spiritual wilderness. Those obstacles are not put there by Me but by your carnal mind. You are in many ways like Uncle Andrew. You tell yourself it is not possible to live by faith. It is not possible step out onto the sea of impossibilities, so you allow your mind to create the obstacle. You need an excuse as to why you cannot do it, why you cannot follow Me. “It is too hard; we must take things into our own hands. We cannot live in the spirit whilst in this land of the living.”
Away with you, Uncle Andrew; you will not listen and therefore you will not sing the song of awakening. You have missed the signs in My Word; you have missed the melody of faith that only the faithful can sing, which only the one forty-four thousand can learn. Away with you now, you and your system ways, you and your practicalities. We leave now, for the day of man is closing. We must cover the Earth with this song, with this symphony, for the day of My return is upon the world, and those that go down must go down and those that are to meet the new sunrise must follow Me and trust Me as the little sparrow, the lily and all the animals of the field.”
Excerpt from C.S. Lewis Book The Magician’s Nephew
We must now go back a bit and explain what the whole scene had looked like from Uncle Andrew’s point of view. It had not made at’ all the same impression on him as on the Cabby and the children. For what you see and hear depends a good deal on where you are standing: it also depends on what sort of person you are.
Ever since the animals had first appeared, Uncle Andrew had been shrinking further and further back into the thicket. He watched them very hard of course; but he wasn’t really interested in seeing what they were doing, only in seeing whether they were going to make a rush at him. Like the Witch, he was dreadfully practical. He simply didn’t notice that Aslan was choosing one pair out of every kind of beasts. All he saw, or thought he saw, was a lot of dangerous wild animals walking vaguely about. And he kept on wondering why the other animals didn’t run away from the big Lion. When the great moment came and the Beasts spoke, he missed the whole point; for a rather interesting reason. When the Lion had first begun singing, long ago when it was still quite dark, he had realized that the noise was a song. And he had disliked the song very much. It made him think and feel things he did not want to think and feel. Then, when the sun rose and he saw that the singer was a lion (“only a lion,” as he said to himself) he tried his hardest to make believe that it wasn’t singing and never had been singing — only roaring as any lion might in a zoo in our own world. “Of course it can’t really have been singing,” he thought, “I must have imagined it. I’ve been letting my nerves get out of order. Who ever heard of a lion singing?” And the longer and more beautiful the Lion sang, the harder Uncle Andrew tried to make himself believe that he could hear nothing but roaring. Now the trouble about trying to make yourself stupider than you really are is that you very often succeed. Uncle Andrew did. He soon did hear nothing but roaring in Aslan’s song. Soon he couldn’t have heard anything else even if he had wanted to. And when at last the Lion spoke and said, “Narnia awake,” he didn’t hear any words: he heard only a snarl. And when the Beasts spoke in answer, he heard only barkings, growlings, bayings, and howlings. And when they laughed— well, you can imagine.