American Gods – September 17, 2020

The heathen’s idols are silver and gold, the work of men’s hands.

They have mouths but they do not speak, they have eyes but they do not see; 

They have ears but they do not hear, nor is there any breath in their mouths.

 Those that make them are exactly like them, so is every one that trusts in them. (Psalm 135:15- 18)

The gods of America are about to be stilled. Their tongues are about to cleave to the roof of their mouth as I touch down and manifest myself among them. They’ve spoken lies in my name and prophesied to my people a very long time. They’ve set up temples to themselves and built arenas that put the Greek and Roman colosseums to shame. Lights, camera, action. They have filled my people with carnal desires, these people love football and baseball more than they love Me. They will do anything for season tickets to anything: ballet, opera, NBA, concerts – all the enjoyments they had in the past are their gods. But now the stadiums are empty and the gods sit idle, enjoying million dollar salaries for doing nothing. Now the temple is shut and the stages are bare, the arena sits empty and all the tricks are see-through. 

America where are your gods? Didn’t you worship them? Didn’t you call on them? Didn’t you weep when they rose and fell on TV? Isn’t your compassion and sense of justice more roused for them and what they go through in their make-believe lives than it is for the widows and immigrants, don’t you care more what the tabloids tell you about them than you care for a homeless person freezing in winter RIGHT ON THE STREET IN FRONT OF YOU?? You have money for yearly subscriptions to worship your gods but “No change” is what you tell a flesh and blood human being starving to death on the street.

No change.

That is the condition of your black and hardened hearts. I have called you to repentance these ten times but the diagnosis in Heaven is “No change”. So be it.

I am coming America. My servant has warned you and still you refuse it. I have a whip in my hand, with it I will scourge the temple and overturn the tables of money-changers still begging for tithes even when churches are closed. A god is something you serve and worship, something you bow down to and give your praise and fidelity.



Such wide and sweeping words for a flimsy, perishable thing that will topple and shatter in my Holy presence. Your eyes can’t see their clay feet, nor your ears hear how they have no answers for you now that tribulation comes. You are blinded, your arms still raised, your tongues still sing praises to all the American gods!

Mirror mirror on the wall, CHRIST IS THE FAIREST OF THEM ALL. So says the Lord of Hosts.

Bow down and fall, bow down and worship. All you American gods.

This is the end of the prophecy. 

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