I see an erupting volcano and out of the explosion comes wolves. They are spewed up out of the mouth of the volcano in the fire and lava, and all land on the ground at the base of the volcano.
They are fierce. Many are being born. They line the mountains and peer down at the sheep below in the valley. Their eyes are red – blood red. Their mouths are full of teeth and saliva and drool. Hatred is written on their collars. Death is the name on their leashes.
I see the devil as the father wolf mates with Jezebel below. She is reproducing at great speed.
The light on the horizon is getting brighter and thicker. I can see that angels hover over the cloud as it approaches the valley. Dust kicks up as the riders come forward on their horses. All of the horses are white and have extreme determination on their faces. They snort fire.
The saints of Boulder Valley are coming. They are coming. I see the youth on their faces, and I see a great love for their God. They carry His face with them everywhere.
They are not ashamed. They are not afraid. Together, their individual lights forms a much greater light. They can ride in darkness and still see clearly. Purity is on their hearts, and love is their banner. But, their swords are big. They know who they are. They know that they belong to the King. Great grace travels with them everywhere. I see fruit falling behind them as they ride the plains. There is no hesitation yet they are extremely patient as they move forward. Their arrival will be timed perfectly.
The battle is near. I see the watchman raise their trumpets to sound the call. They see the wolves and know that the enemy is great in number – much greater than the saints.
The time is near. A storm is brewing on the horizon. Lightning and thunder but no rain. The rain has not yet come. The air is charged with energy.
The plowshares are being beaten into swords.
A wind starts to blow through the town, and the saints are brought into unity.
The time is drawing near.
There is a great multitude of angels ascending and descending over the valley. There is much activity. Preparation is being made. They are intentional and well-trained. I see them taking their places along side each saint. Some of the saints have many, some few.
It looks as though the battle will begin as the snow piles up. Until then, all are simply being prepared.
Rest in Me is the word over the valley. Not by might nor by power, but by My Spirit.