#239 | Tears at the Foot of the Mount [Pt. 5] – The End

As the young lion stood before the bridge of snakes, the Voice of Sight kept whispering:
“They are dead… Don’t be afraid. They’re just dead snakes… Harmless.”

And they did look very harmless. Long dead. So, the lion chose to believe sight this time around.

He began his journey on the bridge, and truthfully, there was no harm. Or so he thought! Just as he was about to have crossed fully, the snakes suddenly came to life — their fangs flashing, their bodies tightening around his legs.
They bit him repeatedly, injecting poison over and over again as he bled profusely.

Now twice bruised, twice broken, and twice desperate, the lion limped toward the river — hoping to be healed.
But the river, which he had seen through the eyes of sight, was not as it appeared — no, it wasn’t just dark and murky. It had something more sinister hiding in it.

He had barely gotten to the river when suddenly, black, shadowy hands — apparition-like — emerged from the water. They grabbed him, dragged him in, and drowned him in the river.
He was consumed. Dead forever.

But What if He Chose to Walk on Air?

The vision rewound, showing the lion if he had gone with the other choice.

This time, he obeyed the voice of faith, choosing to walk on air. As he put forward the first paw on the chasm, hands made of light emerged beneath him to hold him up, and then more of these hands appeared in front of him and over the chasm — shaping an invisible pathway across.
Yes, I could see them, but he couldn’t.
He crossed safely.

As soon as he reached the other side, all the wounds on his body were instantly healed — wounds from beneath the red cape and from when he was thrown down from the mount.

But I realised one thing: Though the scars vanished, the pain remained. He could still feel pain in his bones.

He stepped into the river of light, and as he did, a big radiant hand reached out from the waters and began to wash his face, his eyes, and his mane.

Gradually, the brown lion transformed into a white lion — pure, noble, reborn.

As he drank deeply from the river, a massive eagle rose from within the waters and swallowed him whole.
A moment of silence followed, as the eagle then went deep into the water.

Then, something incredible happened. The eagle began to morph. It became a griffin — fusion of lion and eagle. The lion seemed to have become something entirely new.
It was at this point that he was whole — no scars, no pain.

Now he was afloat on top of the river, but he did not leave the river immediately. He remained — resting, learning.

From time to time, instructors came to him there. They were as lecturers sent from Heaven. I noticed that they were mostly prophets from the Scriptures, especially Elisha and Joel. There were others, but these two are the names that stuck.

As he continued to stay and they taught him, he was no longer that young lion — he was now a mature, mighty beast, shaped by truth and light.
And this was how the young lion became the griffin I had seen earlier restored upon the mountain.

The glorious griffin was the lion who had obeyed the voice of faith, passed through the river of light, submitted to instruction, and was now seated again on the mount of authority — infused with wisdom, humility, and power.

8th July, 2025
Bro. S.E.
GAM-WATCH