Dear John,
Tomorrow is your birth day, and I just wanted to write and tell you what type of world you’ll find yourself in. It’s a dark place to be certain. For 400 years I’ve chosen to be silent. There have been no prophecies. There have been no dreams. I gave my people a chance to try to do things their way—that’s what they wanted, isn’t it? They say they’re serving me, with all their rituals and rules. But their hearts are as locked tight as a sealed-up water jug—nothing’s going in. Nothing fresh and living is coming out.
But among the self-protected people are some faithful ones . . . like your parents Zacharias and Elizabeth. They’re righteous before me. They live their lives blamelessly. They follow my rules, but more importantly I see their hearts. I’ve also seen their tears. I’ve captured all of Elizabeth’s tears in a bottle as she’s prayed for a child, as she’s dreamed of a son. She’s been so brave, forcing a smile at each new pregnancy announcement from the women in her village. There have been times she’s questioned why I made her barren, but she’s never questioned my goodness, my Lordship. I like that. And in her darkest moments, when Elizabeth dares to allow the softest, whispered prayer to escape her lips, I take joy in dropping down and wrapping my arms of love around her. I allow my Spirit to whisper. “Just you wait and see what I have in store.”
The world isn’t without hope, even though it may appear that way through the eyes of desperate men.
I’m using your parents—both well advanced in years—to start the show. I had to wait, you see. I needed mature parents who’ve seen the ups and downs of life to be able to handle the ups and down of raising you. Through a messenger, I’ve told your father your name will be John and you will be great in my sight. I need you to be, son. You see, you’re Act One.
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