Turning onto the tree lined road I immediately felt a rush as the Holy Spirit swept over me with a wave of anointing from the thinness of the place. Whithorn; cradle of Christianity in Scotland and the the southern point of prayer. I had been there in the Spirit a few weeks before; removed from time and from the cares of this world, I stood in the presence of the Lord; feeling the wind in my hair, the sun on my face; I could hear the crashing waves upon the shore and taste the salty air upon my lips.
The experience was as real as any I’ve ever had.

I knew the Lord would meet us here; that we were to pray and that He would speak to us. But as I have learned and yet am continually learning, the reality is oft far different than the imagined, and so I try, sometimes in vain, to leave preconceived notions behind, that I might embrace the fullness of what the Lord has ordained at any given moment.

We walked in silence down the path leading to the sea; the beauty of the place only heightened by the presence of the Lord. The woodland floor wore a carpet of bluebells, buttercups and starry white wild garlic blooms, mixed here and there with giant ferns still opening their lacy fronds. Trees stretched their limbs ever upwards to the deep blue sky above, their leaves whispering praises to God, joined by the songs of birds and all of creation worshpping the great I AM, Creator of all that was and is and evermore shall be.

Soon the woods were behind and the hills on each side gave way to the rocky shore before us. To the right Ninians cave could be seen in the distance, with one lone pilgrim heading our way; his time of prayer completed as we were about to begin our own.

All around were the signs of those who had come before as they have for hundreds of years; hand tied crosses of various sizes and a multitude of etchings in the rocks…
An essence of faith remains from the countless pilgrims who have come there to pray. This is indeed a thin place for those who have eyes to see and ears to hear, a place where time and eternity meet and the veil between heaven and earth is thinner; even lifted at times. A place that in a way reminds me of Iona, a place not made by human hands.
There was a little darkness there as well, from those of the enemy who would come to steal the anointing, but the darkness can never overcome the Light…
No, the gates of Hell will not prevail, nor thwart the plans and purposes of God. He is always found by those who seek Him with an honest heart.

The minute we stepped inside the cave I heard in my spirit “He hides me in the cleft of the Rock”; Richard heard this as well.
He lay on the rocky floor; I sat, both silently praying, then listening to what the Spirit was saying. After some time I felt impressed to go outside and climb up on the rocks overlooking the sea to the side of the cave and pray. I was so overcome by the Holy Spirit and trembling, I could barely climb over them, but in the strength of Jesus Christ, our Lord and our King I did.
There before the Lord and in the presence of His angels I sat, gazing out across the Irish Sea, the waves crashing below, their salty mist upon my face.
And as I prayed for Scotland, revelation was given; not what I wanted to hear, but I knew it was true. This nation like our own is in the process of receiving it’s final call to awaken. I quieted my mind to listen and hear what the Lord would say.

“This is a stiff necked and rebellious people; they will not listen to My words nor turn from their own ways, therefore My Spirit is being removed from their midst and they shall go their own way. But there is a remnant hidden in this land; they will arise and be a mighty flame” .

I understood that the Light He had placed in this nation when the foundations of the earth were laid, somehow resides in the land itself, buried beneath millennia of darkness, bloodshed and oppression, but still it remains and it will break forth and be released.
The Holy Spirit will breathe new life into the hearts of His remnant, quickening their spirits to the fullness of Jesus Christ light, love and life, setting their hearts on fire, radically changing and transforming them. They will awaken and rise up in His power, anointing and strength; Sons and Daughters of the Most High God. A holy fire will spread consuming and transforming the lives of all who are touched by it.

It must have been two hours I sat overlooking the sea; it seemed as if time stood still and I was transfixed, my heart pierced with sorrow for the state of the church, yet captivated by the Lords tangible presence.
Then it was time to rejoin Richard for prayer. We climbed to a spot on the hillside to the other side of the cave and sat overlooking the sea from a higher vantage point. We prayed and proclaimed the Word of the Lord, calling forth that which is to come, praying for it’s release and as we sat there I felt two very large, powerful angels standing right behind us, and knew there was a host surrounding us.

When we climbed back down I stood in the cave, a hand on each wall; I could feel and hear the prayers of the saints that had risen in this place over the centuries, a trace of each heartfelt prayer and godly faith lingers in the timeless realm of eternity.
There the Lord asked me a most unexpected question; I felt a grace and anointing fall upon me, as more of Jesus life was breathed into me.

Walking out of the cave I looked to the hills and then saw them, a great host of angels sitting on horses, swords at their sides and spears in their hands, glistening in the afternoon sun, looking out to the sea as if they too were pausing for a moment before the final battle begins.

I walked down to the water and stood there, the sun on my face, the wind in my hair, the sound of the waves crashing on the shore, the taste of salt on my lips, just as I had in my spirit a few weeks before. The presence of the Lord permeated everything around me, His Spirit was in the wind, in the waves, in my very being, filling my heart with awe, thanksgiving and wonder…