I am a newspaper boy riding on a red bike. I carry scrolls from heaven that are bound with gold seals in my saddlebags. I ride my bike from house to house, neighborhood to neighborhood and town to town. I go to the mayor’s house and read the scroll over him.
I see his wife faint from the word of God over him. I see his house push up out of the ground like the earth below were suddenly raised up. I see the old white church up on a hill. Its bells ring and ring. There is an atmosphere of jubilation. America shall return to the heartland.
She shall rise up again into the place of prominence. There is a return to the old coming back. Old value that drove our country to be the blessing.
She will be golden.