I see the sky open up over Bridgeway. Leaflets fall from heaven as if a whole fleet of bombers were flying overhead dropping them.
The word of the LORD rains down over that church.
The prophetic is born.
I see angels parachuting down. They watch over the words and insure that they are performed. It’s not propaganda.
I see lots of snakes below on the ground. But, they scatter when the word falls. They dont like the rain.