It is Time!

A man dressed in metal armor raced into the center of the grounds of a block of flats.
“It is time.” He said shouting, and laughed with joy. He looked up into the sky and ran out again. All the house residents could hear the commotion happening out on the streets, and most came out to their balconies to see what was happening. Earlier, people moved about in the six flats, going about their day to day tasks, as they always did.
On the second floor lived an entrepreneur, and next to her, a publishing company.
Two families occupied the first floor, one with no child, on the left, and another with two children, on the right.
The ground floor housed a shop and a family with one child. The grandmother bathed the child, a one-year-old boy, on the verandah outside the house, enjoying the child’s squeals of laughter.
All the occupants were living their lives. One day spilling into the next, from morning to evening, and night until morning. Not so that day.
A group of three ran out of their houses to join the crowd and were clothed in the same silver armor once they left the gate. They stopped shocked, laughed, and continued on their way. It seemed like they had gone mad. The three were the entrepreneur, an editor from the publishing house, and the children’s mother from the first floor.
Next, the residents watched as the baby’s mother, from the ground floor, rushed to the gate carrying her child. She was changing him as fast as she could. Both received the armor as she raced out of the compound.
The grandmother screamed for her grandchild as she ran after them, but stopped at the gate. She was almost hysterical as she called her son’s phone over and over, with no response.
The people who remained looked on, some with fear, and others with pity. They wondered at the powers which possessed the minds of the people running out to join the crowd of absolute chaos. The covering with armor wasn’t visible to the natural eye, and the people on the streets seemed to them in disarray.
An older man stepped out of the house and walked to the gate. His steps were swift and sure. On seeing him, the grandmother barred him from leaving the house with her body.
“Director, where are you going?” She asked.
“To join the army.”
“What army? This band of mad people?”
“They may look mad, but God has chosen the foolish things of this world to confuse the wise.”
“My daughter-in-law joined them with her baby!” The grandmother said, almost screaming in anguish as she pointed to the crowd. “Help me find them and bring them home, please.” She said, kneeling before the man.
He strode to her side and helped her up. “The best you can do is to join us. God is here to change things, to dwell with us, be in us, and to work through us.”
“No.” She said, extracting her arm from him. “My God does not work among misfits. Just bring those two back for me, please.”
The man shook his head as he walked to the gate. Once there, he was clothed in armor, as well. He understood what God was doing and turned to the woman and everybody else in the compound.
“It is not by might, nor by power, but by the Spirit of God.” He said and joined the crowd moving forward.
The second married woman on the first floor strolled down to the ground floor and joined the old lady.
“Can you imagine this?” The grandmother asked, still shocked.
“Don’t mind them. When it is time for God to manifest, the whole world will know about it, not just a sick few.”
“Madam, if God wants to work, He tells His own.” The shopkeeper said, walked past and out of the gates, taking her position.
“And you are one of them?” The lady asked, calling after her and laughing.
“I don’t think this is a joke. What if it’s real?” Another editor asked, stepping close to the women and looking worried.
“Well, why are you waiting? Join them and find out.” The lady said, gesticulating with almost every part of her body, and in doing so, showed her frustrations.
The Editor kept quiet, deciding to keep his thoughts to himself.
“Look at them, and for what?” The grandmother asked, spitting out her words in disdain and shaking her head.
“We run like mighty men, marching in formation, and we do not break ranks.” An apprentice editor said, running past his boss, and into the streets with the crowd, joining the body of Christ.
The people left behind remained blinded. They chose the world they could see and touch over the eternal.