Road runners and watchers
Don Bradley Cheshvan 16
We were just talking about the old road runner cartoons from back in the day with Wile E. Coyote, then a few minutes later, the watchers put out a show for us. They all used the clouds to create road runner imagry for us to appreciate. Which we did with laughter and shouts of joy.
Dad also threw in a rainbow for us, while it all lasted, a reveal of His Blessing on the moment.
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| There are several road runner cloud formations in this shot. |
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| Here is the most obvious road runner. Can you spot the rest? There are quite a few of the boys all making a nice joyful time, while out doing some rather ugly business - closing demonic portals in various Northern Arizona sites. |
I still show this to friends from time to time and we still, to this day, get a giggle out of it.
Watchers, angels in the sky, want what everyone with a true heart wants: to be appreciated and to have purpose. Well, big fellows, we appreciate you all at this house and we always will. You serve the most high. You refused rebellion and stood with YHVH when your fellows came to earth and made a mess of the place, all those years ago on Mount Hermon.
We appreciate that you stood with the Most High, YHVH. Dad, as we refer to our Adonai. For us, He is our Dad, in a most personal and loving way. Not as some GOD abstract figure; unknowable, and all that. It's a relationship and once you see it, feel it, and know it, your heart and soul and life is never the same again, afterwards.
I call these fellows recording angels. They record everything they see; for the books.
To serve the most high.
They also appreciate it when the people down below - for whom all this creation business is ALL ABOUT - notice and appreciate them. The word spreads. You see and know. Everywhere you go, the shimmering visage of these etheric dimensional realities steps into brighter view, always giving off a hello of sorts and a nod to the seeing soul. In our experience at least.
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| Some outlines to help you see. It's one thing to say a thing is so; happily, Dad always gave me proof of everything I was seeing, when no one else could or would, see. |