The House by the Tracks
A vision of calling, voice, and the lifting of the Word
I was given a house in the desert. Outside the house, it was a humble-looking structure, covered with heavy moss and surrounded by trees, as if it had been left abandoned in a forest for a long time. Right up against the house was a train track. I knew it was busy, but I was never able to see a single train go through, but I know the trains did go through even when I was at home. A chain-link fence was between my house and the train tracks.
A woman came by to help. While helping, I found a podium I didn’t see before. It was facing the fence and the train track. I opened the book, and as I spoke, I noticed my voice seemed to permeate from the depths of the canyons and into the ground. As this happened, a climbing set of benches showed up and people, the train also, as if I was seeing a time lapse. The more I focused on speaking, the fence seemed to disappear and the podium grew. It was huge and started to surround me, and it started to lift me up as if it could fly on its own.
I felt as if I were having the same moment Jesus did when He read:
“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor; he hath sent me to heal the brokenhearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised, to preach the acceptable year of the Lord.”
“And he closed the book, and he gave it again to the minister, and sat down. And the eyes of all them that were in the synagogue were fastened on him. And he began to say unto them, This day is this scripture fulfilled in your ears.”
— Luke 4:18–21, KJV
As I was reading, the book was in front of me, sitting open on the podium, but I wasn’t looking at it. I wanted to see what I was reading before I left, so that I could come back. When I looked at it, the white of the pages looked as rich as the sky air and seemed to be as deep as it. The writing was a mirror-shine gold and I saw a seal rise up from it.