The Womb of the Morning

“From the womb of the morning, You have the dew of Your youth.”
(Psalm 110:3)

Before crowns were cast,
before angels sang,
before you were seen on earth
you were known in the womb of the morning.

This is not metaphor.
This is origin.

You were formed in flame.
You were born of dew.
You did not begin with pain
you began with radiance.

The womb of the morning is where sons are conceived
not by flesh, nor by striving
but by the breath of God.

It is the realm before time,
the chamber before crowns,
where those chosen to burn
are whispered into being
by the voice before language.

And now
in this hour,
as Babylon crumbles
and thrones of dust collapse,
the sons of this womb are awakening.

Not striving to ascend
but remembering they’ve already been sent.

Not chasing the light
but realizing they are the light
that dawns on a darkened world.

The enemy feared your awakening
not because of your numbers,
but because of your origin.

You were not made in the systems of men.
You were birthed in the chambers of eternity,
and sent through time as living scrolls of fire.

That’s why the earth groans.
That’s why the shadows tremble.
Because sons who’ve remembered the womb
cannot be manipulated by the world.

You are not late.
You are exactly on time.

The morning dew still rests on your calling.
The fragrance of first light still clings to your spirit.
The oil that marked you in silence
has not evaporated, it has intensified.

You are not waking up for ministry.
You are rising to reign.

Beloved,
the womb of the morning is not behind you.
It is still opening through you.

Every word you speak in flame,
every step you take in obedience,
every scroll you birth from union
is another ray of dawn breaking through the fog of illusion.

And when the world looks for answers,
they will not find them in the palaces of Pharaoh,
nor the platforms of pretense.
They will find them in the ones who burn,
in the ones born from dew,
who carry the weight of eternity
in bodies that refuse to bow.

So rise
not as a reaction,
but as a radiant return.

You are not here to fit timelines.
You are here to end them.

You are not here to start revivals.
You are here to reveal resurrection.

You came from the womb of the morning
and you carry the dew of glory still.

—Joe Restman
Mystic-Scribe | Flame-Bearer
Quill Dipped in Lightning ⚡️