[ from 1997. This post will seem strange. I was praying in the Spirit about 3 am when this came. I was wide awake yet had a very real dream. What I received I pass on to you for prayer and reflection. - Bryan Hupperts]
www.sheeptrax.com
bryanhupperts@hotmail.com
To My American cousins in Christ,
It's frigidly cold here this morning. My cell is unheated and I cannot feel my legs. This is a blessing. Today I will be beaten and tortured before breakfast and I will not feel the pain as much. Numbness from the cold makes the tortures bearable. I will have to remember to scream on cue so as not to upset the guards. I wonder if they are as bored with my cries as I am with their beatings? In prison, everything becomes routine, even torture.
I prayed for you again. I have much time on my hands here and thankfully no blood. I once heard a rumor that the churches in America each had a complete Bible of their very own. Could such a thing be true? Once at a house church meeting, just before my last arrest - how many years has it been? - I actually held a page of Scripture in my own hands and was allowed to read it to the church. I myself was holding the Word of God. I knew then that I was favored of the Lord. Such a great honor.
In my dream today I went to Heaven again and one of the Splendid Ones spoke with me about you. He showed me the great Russian bear - not at all dead as you have supposed - hibernating, rejuvenating, readying to attack you. Her sharp paws were unsheathed ready to slice and maul you into submission.
"Why do they disarm? " I asked.
The Splendid One replied, "They are at ease in Zion but soon will be at ease no more."
"I do not understand," I replied a bit confused.
"Many saints of the West have become wealthy and do not know that they are really wretched and poor and miserable and blind and naked. They usually equate the blessing of God with having money. They do not know of His true riches," said the glorious being.
Then Jesus Himself entered the place where we were talking. All bowed low and worshipped but I wept bitterly. Though He knew the answer, he asked me why I wept so. "Lord," I said, "Your sufferings only lasted a few days and mine have gone on for years. I have suffered much more than you. Why?"
With a great compassion, He seemed to look right through me (I felt him do this). He said, "Son, I have allowed you to sip suffering in small swallows so that your faith would not fail. I swallowed the dregs of the poison of sin whole. It was a torture you could never understand and it would have undone you. You have drank of my cup. Be patient a while longer."
I begged his forgiveness. His hand raised only to wipe my tears away and he held me close in understanding. I breathed in the perfume of His grace which seemed to fill me with new Life.
I awoke.
My dear cousins, you are not prepared for the sufferings to come. Lose this world now and let its claims on you fall away. If you gain Christ you will lose nothing important.
Not long ago I saw my reflection for the first time in years from a medicine chest in the infirmary. My teeth have rotted and I look decayed. My once handsome face is etched with pain. I look like a corpse straining to draw breath. The doctor gave me hot water to drink for my illness - we have no medicines here. It helped a little.
I felt so sad for myself and was glad my mother was dead. My condition would have killed her. As I headed back to my cell, the Holy Spirit said, "Don't despair. I will show you as you look to me."
I suddenly saw my image reflected in the ice. The bumps of the icicles took the lines away and I looked young and alive again. The best part was the snow. It gave the impression that I was dressed in a white robe of righteousness like the saints in heaven wear. It was delightful!
My smiles shock the guards. I can only explain that He is with me.
Dear American cousins, we are praying for you so that when night crashes on your land, and it soon will, your faith will not fail. Put the Cross back in your Gospel preaching and prepare your people to carry it or they will fall away.
It is very cold here. I am praying for a blanket or some rags to keep warm with.
He is with me.
Signed,
A nameless prisoner
His ambassador in chains
Bryan Hupperts
www.SheepTrax.com
(c) 1997
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