Paul's Torn Mantle

~ A vision by Bonnie Franklin ~

PRAYER: (11/06/04)

Father God, sometime ago you gave me a dream and you showed me Paul sitting all alone in an airport terminal with a leather suitcase. The flights came in and the flights went out, but Paul had no where to go. Finally after sitting there for what seemed hours, he got up and made his way back to his empty hotel room all alone. I wept as I sensed the intense depression and loneliness, which surrounded him.

At the time I thought you were showing me that Paul had searched all over the world and been involved in so many ministries, and yet none lit a candle to the ministry and the church that he knew could exist in you - the one he's been searching for all of his life. I called friends and emailed others close to him urgently asking them to pray for Paul, because I could sense his sadness and depression. You only showed me a fraction of the loneliness, only a fraction of the pain.

Now the dream has become a reality and there really is truly no where for him to go, but to you my Lord. And yet I feel and sense your great, great love, your grace, your compassion, oh Gentle Savior. No, you don't condone our sin, and you don't accuse either. Are you not the One who said so long ago, "Let him who is without sin, cast the first stone."

I have no stones to throw, my Lord, only tears to let fall. I have no accusations to say, only prayers and intercession. I will never give up, never, my Lord, on the dreams and the visions you have given me for your servant. For he is your servant and he is your son, whom you love. I will stand by his side in love knowing that your blood covers all of our sins and mistakes, everything that we knowingly or unknowingly do. Each day is a new day in you, and you count the good days, the good minutes, the good moments in our life and you lay them on the scale with the price that you paid for our Salvation. We are all lost without you, Lord. Our righteousness is as filthy rags. We are miserable sinners; we are but dust in the sight of your glory.

Forgive us our sins; wash us clean in the Blood of the Lamb. Take our hand in your hand and help us to walk again renewed in you. We still believe in your dreams - the dreams and visions you have placed deep within our spirits. We will not give up on the dreams of God; we will not give up on the dreams of God. We will not give up, on You, oh Lord. You are our only hope and our only Salvation. In you we find Eternal rest and peace.

Comfort, my brother Paul this day. Fill him with your Spirit. Cleanse him and may he wear white robes of righteousness in your sight. I call for many, many angels to encamp round about him pushing the hordes of darkness aside. Comfort and strengthen his mind, his heart and his soul. Come be his friend and the lover of his soul. May he find total and complete wholeness and joy, yes, joy in your presence. Cover him with your thoughts night and day, night and day, night and day. Love on him, I pray. May he be yours now and forevermore. ~ Bonnie Franklin

Vision of Paul's Torn Mantle:

Several years ago, I had a vision of Paul as he lay at death's door; he was in my home bed ridden as I was feeding him chicken soup. He had placed his mantle in my husband's care for safe keeping. It was known among the ranks, of two prophets who both argued and fought over Paul's mantle saying, "I'm the elder." "No, I'm the elder." "I'll receive it." "No, I shall." Words became blows and blows became swords but each was an equal match to the other. Finally, under the cover of night, one of the prophets comes upon the other unawares, pulls out his knife and stabs his brother from behind. It's a deadly blow, and the one with the knife pulls the other off to the side of the road and leaves him there to die. The next day, there is a great procession and funeral for the fallen prophet; the people follow behind his body not believing he is gone as it is placed into a sarcophagus within a crypt.

My husband lingers there, as do I, when in from the shadows comes the prophet who had slain his brother. Seeing the glint of the knife in his hands still with the telltale signs of blood, my husband turns from his mourning to angrily say. "Do you come to fight with me now? Hasn't enough blood been spilled this day? You two, who could not come to terms in friendship, who could not join arms to fight side by side, you two, who could have united the brotherhood, yet chose instead to rip and tear at each others' kingdoms, you who could not even sit together at the table of the Lord, and chose to fight endlessly so consumed by your lust and desire for the mantle of another, that you would even take it from him while he yet lives... if it's this mantle that you desire so badly, that you would kill your very brother just to lay hold of it, then you two shall have it!"

Reaching inside of his cloak my husband pulls out the mantle of Paul Cain from around his neck ripping it asunder from top to bottom. One half is thrown to the prophet in the shadows, and the other half he gently wraps around the stone figure of the prophet who was slain saying, "Though I was your enemy, but you were never mine." The prophet in the shadows throws the torn portion of the mantle to the ground, as he stomps upon it saying, "I have no use of a mantle that's ragged and torn."

When all is quiet and the prophets have gone, I slip from my hiding place having witnessed all that took place. With tears I reach down to pick up the portion of Paul's mantle from off the ground, then turn to retrieve the other half from off the figure of stone. Taking them to my secret place, the pieces of cloth are sewn by hand back together again with a scarlet cord and kept hidden from view.

Some time later, Paul begins to reminisce of his mantle saying he wished he had it to hold onto just one more time. I say, "But it's here; it's been here all along," and reach into my sewing basket pulling out the mantle and placing it into his hands once again. He runs his fingers over the scarlet cord with tears coming into his eyes, but then he calls over a young lad who is playing nearby and places the mantle around his shoulders. Then Paul slips into eternity with his laughter echoing down the hallways as he hears the young boy scamper about giving words of knowledge about everyone in the house just as he had in his younger days - naming everyone's sins.

Comments: I'm not sure at all what all this means, and I don't even want to know, yet what I do know is that the Lord has given me a heart of a mother for Paul; it's been there for many years and I know he has his purpose in it. It is a heart that will shield and love and help. We are going to fight the hordes of darkness coming against those with a prophetic call upon their lives. We are here to protect and to defend the prophetic words of the Lord and there would not be any without his prophets. What does it say on the Roundtable website..." Dedicated to preserving the prophetic word of the Lord." The theme song for the ministry is "Lord, have mercy." It's the cry of our hearts.

This is a house of hope. Our home is to be a safe place, in order to redeem, in order to restore, in order to protect, and to never give up on the dreams of God until he says to stop praying, as he spoke to Samuel. Until that day comes we will pray and obey and believe in the dreams of our Lord for his sons and daughters that his perfect will for their lives would come forth upon the earth.

Prophetic Roundtable Ministries