VISION: THE BURGUNDY RED BRIEFCASE

 

VISION: THE BURGUNDY RED BRIEFCASE

16^th February 2015

I saw this vision 15^th February 2015.

I saw men and women, standing alone along the edge of a forest. They were not visible to each other. All were holding a purple coloured pen which had a gold nib.  This fountain pen was long and tapered at the end. I noticed it had no cap.

None of the pens had ink in them.

As these people were busy examining their writing implements, wondering where they would get the ink from, when without a sound, a stream of ink trickled down from the north, and swelling mid-way, flowed past the side of them.

On divine instruction as they stretched out their hand towards the stream of ink, as if to dip the nib into that it, that it suddenly turned into a rushing river and the men and women were swallowed by the torrents.

NEXT

This swelling river of ink cascaded over the precipice, and instead of the men and women tumbling down this ink fall they were descending standing upright as if in an elevator.

Every man and woman in this ink elevator, on reaching the ground stepped out, and stood on a rock, and began to write with their pens, on the old-fashioned slates which they now held in their hands. These writing slates were encased in wooden frames.

After they finished writing, the slates disappeared and now I saw a bright shining briefcase stood upright, on their right. The briefcases were all alike. All were burgundy red in colour.

NEXT

I saw each of these men and women, carrying their briefcases, in their right hand, entering large buildings and making their way into plush corporate offices.

Though these edifices resembled corporate headquarters commonly seen in New York, I understood that these buildings were located world over in business districts.

I saw each man and woman make their way directly to the boardroom of every office they were sent to, and place the burgundy red briefcase atop the large table. From it, the writer would pull out a single sheet of bond paper upon which was a brief message.

Wheresoever these writers were sent, each one would hand over this single page to the person in charge of that particular corporation.

Whilst one CEO, looked aghast at the message and questioned the writer, “Is this the budget for the entire era?”

In another office, I saw the head of the company on his knees, weeping; he wore trousers and a white singlet. The man had lost his shirt. As he arose to his feet, to his utter dismay, he found himself wearing ill-fitting clothes that were several sizes too small for him.

“But these clothes are too small,” he cried out.

“Don’t worry, you’ll shrink into them”, replied the man with the burgundy red briefcase.

Every message being different, it invoked varied responses from the recipients. Some were puzzled, angry, upset, disappointed, repentant, but none among them looked happy, ecstatic or relieved.

On the 16th of February 2015

I saw the river of ink again.

Now there were no more men or women, no more slates, no more burgundy red briefcases.

Swimming like fish in a flooding river, were the same pens, I had seen at the beginning of this vision.

Immersed in ink, these moving pens were writing on the bond paper. Every sheet of paper had Scripture written upon it.

There were three pages with three different Scriptures. ( Strangely, one word was common in all three Scriptures……..HOWBEIT).

 1 Corinthians 2:6

Howbeit we speak wisdom among them that are perfect: yet not the wisdom of this world, nor of the princes of this world, that come to nought:

1 Corinthians 15:46 

Howbeit that was not first which is spiritual, but that which is natural; and afterward that which is spiritual.

1 Corinthians 14:2 

For he that speaketh in an unknown tongue speaketh not unto men, but unto God: for no man understandeth him; howbeit in the spirit he speaketh mysteries.

 

Bombay-India

Swarna Jha