Date: Wednesday 20th February 2019 Prayer service. Subject: The Eagle Is Not Heir With The Hawk. Inspiration: Planting the Vine and Where to Plant it?

Speckled Bird Fellowship

Mathew 24 vs 24

"For there shall arise false Christs, and false prophets, and shall shew great signs and wonders; insomuch that, if it were possible, they shall deceive the very elect."

65-0218 - The Seed Is Not Heir With The Shuck

112 Just reminds me. As I was coming from Phoenix the other day, coming to Tucson, from the meeting, the Spirit of God called my attention to something; as wife and I were going along, talking, and the children were asleep in the back of the car, getting late. Called my attention to a hawk, and I watched that hawk a little bit and studied him. He’s a very type of the church today.

113 Now, the hawk, as we all know, has lost his identification of his original creation. That’s exactly right. Once he was similar to an eagle, his greater brother; a hawk was. But now he doesn’t fly in the skies no more, to hunt his heavenly manna, but he has gotten soft. He don’t fly in the skies anymore. He hops on the ground, like a vulture; sets upon a telephone post; hops along, hunting for dead rabbits. The hawk wasn’t made to do that. No, he was made to be a similar to an eagle. Now, that’s just like the church. It was made similar to the eagle.

It should take the place in the Heavenlies. But, instead of that, it’s got soft. It don’t fly into the unknown no more, into the blue. No, sir. It’s depending on its modern ways, of adoption, of education, and theology, in some man-made denomination; looking for a bunch of dead rabbits, half rotten, that something else had. That’s right. Hopping along on the ground now, you see, that’s right, a hawk. See, that’s what tells.

The eagle hasn’t changed a bit. He stays a eagle.

114 He doesn’t soar into the skies, a hawk doesn’t, any more, to catch his fresh manna up there, but he depends on what he can find already dead. A hawk don’t hardly…say he’s supposed to get on the ground. But watch an old hawk today. Go down along the road, you see the telephone wires setting full of hawks, see if he can find something—something is killed, some rotten something. He’s got so he hasn’t got wings enough to fly. He’s…The first thing you know, he’ll be on the ground, altogether, grounded because he’s got soft. He don’t use his strength, no more, that God give him.

115 His special identification was to sail into the skies and watch down from below, but now he gets down below and can’t even look up. He’s got his mind on dead rabbits, to find out what he can find on the road; some skunk, opossum, or something somebody has run over. He’s not an eagle, but he’s something like it.

Just like the church depending on its food for education and so forth, a dead diet that died years ago, through Luther, and Wesley, and the Pentecostals, and gone on, he ate. It’s looking back for some man-made creed; instead of flying up into the Heavenlies of the Word, where,

“All things are possible to them that believe.”