By
Phil Arms
Terror!
Terror unimaginable and unprecedented in scope and impact will soon convulse
the inhabitants of planet earth. The horror of these coming events
will
be so chilling that, according to the prophets, many of those who simply
witness them will die of sudden heart failure.
Students
of history are familiar with the frightening and powerfully destructive
potential of both mankind and nature. Nature's "groaning" has often
fiercely
assaulted
earth's inhabitants through hurricanes, volcanoes, earthquakes and dozens of
other natural phenomena. Atrocities, perpetrated by man upon man,
have also left their bloody and terrifying tracks through history as reminders of the savagery that the depraved heart of man is capable of, unless he
is
redeemed by the transforming power of God.
In
my travels I have visited numerous places that stand as vivid reminders of such
cruelty. In Israel one can walk through the Yad Vashem Memorial built
to
remind the world of the barbaric acts that Hitler's Third Reich committed
against the Jewish people during World War II. The repulsive deeds of the
demented,
demonized Nazi regime against innocent men, women and children were so diabolic
that they physically nauseate and emotionally traumatize many
who
visit the sight. This murderous rampage of sadistic, vicious hatred, resulting
in the death of six million Jews, is referred to as the "Holocaust."
The
London Dungeon at London's Museum of Medieval History graphically chronicles
the bestial means of torture and punishment during the Middle and Dark
Ages.
Likewise,
in the city of York, England, is the infamous York Dungeon, where visitors are
stunned to learn about the cold blooded means employed by the executioners
and
torturers of that day.
And
yet, the heinousness of all history's inhumane acts by men upon other men are
but a small microcosmic view of the villainous horror that much of mankind
will
soon experience. When such cruelties are combined with the impersonal
destruction of nature gone mad, it is little wonder this period is called
"the
tribulation."
However,
1, along with millions of other Christians, cling to the glorious promise of
deliverance repeatedly assured to believers throughout the Scriptures.
This
Blessed Hope, the imminent return of Jesus Christ to remove His bride from the
earth before this seven-year period, gives great peace to the child
of
God. Certain that others have more than adequately dealt with this wonderful
moment called the rapture, I will focus our attention on those days that
follow.
Jesus,
in describing these days and their increasing crescendo of terror, says.
"For then shall be great tribulation, such as was not since the beginning
of
the world to this time, no, nor ever shall be. And except those days should be
shortened; there shall no flesh be saved..." (Matthew 24:21-22a).
Daniel,
the most revealing of God's prophets, writes of this final seven- year period.'
He prophesies with great precision that the beginning of this horrible
finale
will be marked by the signing of a peace treaty between Israel and one the
Bible calls the antichrist. This "man of sin," through a process of
rapidfire
political
maneuvers, supernaturally becomes a despotic dictator while pretending to be a
benevolent ambassador of peace. He rises to power at the helm
of
a revived Roman Empire, a confederacy of European nations. Ultimately, this
Wicked One will wage his final battle against all things holy and be
"destroyed
by
the brightness" of the coming Messiahs.
During
this horrendous seven-year period, according to the prophets, all creation will
be seized with the agonizing contractions of excruciating birth pangs.
Nature,
corrupted by the Edenic fall, through this divine reclamation will be restored
to an equatorial paradise.
In
this tribulation period, God not only judges the world's unrighteousness, but
simultaneously redeems His chosen, Israel. The covenant-keeping God fulfills
His
promises to Israel and establishes their millennial kingdom with their true
Messiah upon the throne. Though the Old Testament prophets pointed to it
and
the Lord Jesus preached about it, the most comprehensive and chronologically
specific overview of this remarkable seven years is found in the Book
of
Revelation.
Enough
volumes have been written describing, analyzing and speculating on the 21
judgments recorded in the last book of the Bible to easily fill several
large
libraries.
And
with each passing day come new technologies that create another menagerie of
Orwellian possibilities for the already complex Book of Revelation. With
no
desire to add yet another echo to the substantial number of voices, many of
which are superb analyses, I have chosen to look at John's prophecy from
the
perspective of the unfolding drama that will be the reality shared by billions
of people.
Let
us focus upon one young man caught in the swirling waters of this raging flood
of judgment. Our character is fictional. The events in which he is trapped
are
not.
(Daniel
9 & 2 Thessalonians 2:8)
Not
even the always-sensationalistic media had been able to come up with a final
number. The sudden, unexplained disappearance of millions of people from
all
over the world had triggered a rapid fire sequence of shocking crises that
looked as though they would never end.
David
sat on an old wooden crate in the squalor of what had been his Uncle Trevor's
study. The middle class neighborhood with its once- manicured lawns,
lovely
tree-lined streets and well-kept homes now reminded David of pictures he had
seen of European villages just after World War II. Those once quaint
little
country hamlets had been the scene of intense battles between American GIs and
a retreating German Army. The Nazis had been determined to leave
nothing
of value to the liberators; hence the picturesque villages were left as
smoldering heaps of ruin.
The
only room left intact in this once-lovely home was the study in which David now
sat. Every house in the small town had first been looted, then either
burned
or dismantled piece by piece by the roving, desperate mobs. It was now too
dangerous to stay in these once-populated areas. Survivors had fled to
the
most remote places they could find. Only in the dark of night would some dare
venture back, and then only to scavenge.
All
food had long since disappeared. Those who after sunset sneaked back into the
area were looting anything that could be used to barter, to burn for fuel
or
to build a better, makeshift shelter for their ragged families, if they had any
family left. David didn't.
But
today he had decided to return to the area before sundown. He was too
exhausted, too hungry and too tired of struggling to survive to care any more
about
the violent gangs that now controlled the area. He had recently heard of their
cruelty and that they had even turned to cannibalizing those foolish
enough
to be caught here.
David,
numb from hunger and emotionally depleted from his nonstop battle to survive
the unending series of crises that had destroyed his once- comfortable,
secure
world, was ready to give up his struggle. His will to go on was gone.
He
had not had a hot bath or shaved in over three years. His clothes were mere
rags clinging to his emaciated frame. His hair was beyond shoulder length.
Shoes
were a long-forgotten luxury. Fear was every living being's constant companion.
The world had gone mad. David had had enough. But before it was all
over,
he had determined to search the remains of his uncle's study one last time. He
had to know for sure if Uncle Trevor had been right.
"If
only he were here," David mumbled to himself as he shuffled through piles
of trash and debris. Kicking over his uncle's half-burned, upended desk, he
frantically
scoured through the rubble in a last desperate search for books, notes, a diary
- anything to help him remember.
Frustrated
after an hour of futile prospecting for even the slightest clue, David
breathlessly plopped down in the midst of the debris-covered floor. He
propped
his elbows on his folded legs, thrust his face into his hands and sobbed,
"Oh, why didn't I listen? Why, why, why?"
David
had been a senior at the university and was to graduate in the spring with his
degree in business. Every time there had been any sort of family get
together,
ol' Uncle T was ever present, spouting his religious "bunk." Everyone
tolerated the kind, old fella. When they would tire of listening to his
talk
about the "doomsday prophecies" of the end-times, they would simply
excuse themselves. Uncle Trevor must have understood the family's reluctance to
sit
and listen. He would always smile and nod as they walked away. Then he would
wait until he could corner another "victim," as David and his cousins
called
those who got trapped by Uncle T.
But
then one day in this study, Uncle T had questioned David about his relationship
with God. David had been in an especially melancholy mood and had decided
to
be nice and listen to his uncle, or at least act like he was listening.
Pleased
and a bit surprised that David was willing to give an ear, Uncle T had pulled
out his well-marked and extremely worn Bible. Once again, step- by-step,
he
had gone through the "last days" series of events described by the
prophets. But of special interest to David on that day had been the events his
uncle
told
him of that were written in the Book of Revelation.
Just
when Uncle T had David on the edge of his seat, the phone had rung. It was the
hospital. Dr. Trevor Watkins was needed in the emergency room STAT.
As
they hurried their separate ways that afternoon, they had promised each other
that they would meet again here in the study the following Saturday morning.
Now
smiling to himself, David remembered being surprised that he had actually
looked forward to it. He had been very moved by what his uncle had spoken
of
and now David had questions, more questions and some serious concerns.
But
the next Saturday had never come for Uncle T nor for a lot of others whom David
knew shared Dr. Trevor Watkins' beliefs.
Sitting
in the rubble of the ramshackle study, his head in his hands, David was now
ready to give up. "If only I could have found something," David
softly
mumbled
through his despair, "at least I'd know for sure."
Finally,
he decided to go. Where? He had no idea. Perhaps, he thought, he would return
to his little lean-to well-concealed in the hills surrounding the
town.
As he began to get up, a brisk gust of wind stirred the stacks of papers on the
floor. As the gale whipped trash in every direction, he caught a
glimpse
of something that had been buried beneath the blowing papers. "A
book!" David gasped. Looking closer, he saw it wasn't just any book, but
Uncle
Trevor's
personal well-marked Bible. David fell to his knees, grasped it, clutched it to
his breast, and with tears pouring down his face, said, "Thank
you,
oh God, thank you, thank you."
The
candle flickered. It was almost spent. Made from the old wax drippings of other
candles long since burned out, it lit only a small corner of the lean-to
that
David called home. David worked hard to position the pages so they would catch
what little light the sputtering candle stingily gave up. With his
face
close to the open Bible, David had read for hours in the Book of Revelation.
His uncle's scribbled comments, notes and references to corresponding
passages
in the margins answered almost all the questions David had.
Now,
in stunned, contemplative silence, having finished reading the final book of
the Bible, David sat staring at the flame as it struggled to stay alive.
"It's
all there," David sighed. "All of it. Just like a newspaper story.
Only written thousands of years before it happened."
Glancing
back down at its pages, he reread Revelation 6:2, "And I saw, and behold a
white horse: and he that sat on him had a bow; and a crown was given
unto
him: and he went forth conquering and to conquer."
David's
mind flashed back. Television had still been on then. It was just after the
"great disappearance." Many had blamed it on some "alien
force" that
was
purging Mother Earth. "Sounds so ridiculous now," David thought,
"but most people fell for it. What fools. How could we have been such
fools?"
Lying
on his old cot, he laid his head back, closed his eyes and let his mind drift
back, back to the beginning of the madness. In a semiconscious, dream-like
state,
the images began to return. David remembered every detail with uncanny clarity.
It
was January, some years earlier Super Bowl Sunday. America was preoccupied with
"the game." Around the world, normality marked the day. For David and
his
friends, it meant beer, girls, food, a party and a big screen TV Though the
game would be starting at 5:15 PM.., the party had begun hours earlier.
Over
three dozen guys and gals gathered in the campus frat house. It was already
noisy. The stereo blared in competition with the pre-game show. That, added
to
the cacophony of a dozen different conversations scattered 'throughout the
large room, set a real party atmosphere. Laughter. Debates about the best
quarterback.
"Who
wants another beer?"
"Has
anyone seen my car keys?"
"Have
you heard who's pregnant?"
Finally
someone yelled, "Quiet! Everyone pipe down! It's time for kickoff."
The
loud roar lessened to a low rumble as all the guys maneuvered for a good spot
around the tube, and the girls, well, most of them, grouped up in the
back
to continue their conversations, only quieter now.
A
minute later a collective "Awwh," rose from those around the
television. "What's wrong with the TV?" "This can't be
happening!"
"Somebody
check the power."
"It's
not the power, we've got lights."
"It's
the TV"
"No,
it's a brand new set."
"Somebody
kick it."
"You
break it, you buy it!"
As
a couple of guys attempted to adjust the set, others reminisced about the World
Series game in 1987. Millions of fans had been sitting in front of their
televisions
to watch that game being played at San Francisco's Candlestick Park when right
at game time, screens went blank. An earthquake measuring 6.7
on
the Richter scale had shaken the city and the coliseum, knocking off network
television.
As
the self-appointed repairmen in the frat house were just about to give up their
efforts, the picture returned. A disheveled news anchor scrambled to
get
his notes together. The room grew silent as everyone gathered around the set.
Clearly
shaken, the anchor was not prepared for this moment.
"Ladies
and gentlemen, we apologize for interrupting the Super Bowl, but at this moment
confusion reigns on the field and... "
The
reporter stopped, put his right index finger to his ear, and strained to listen
to someone talking over his earpiece.
"Ladies
and gentlemen," he continued, "please excuse me but we are having
some major technical difficulties."
Then,
speaking to someone off-camera in a frustrated, demanding tone, he said, 'Just
give me the copy now! It's all we've got." Turning back to the camera
with
paper in hand, the reporter apologized again and stammered, "Folks, as you
can see, we are just as confused as you may be about what's going on. We've
got
Bill Terry at the stadium and I think we've a connection. Hello, Bill, are you
there? Can you hear me?"
"Hello,"
came the voice of the on-scene reporter as the picture blinked off and on.
"Yes,
I'm here and I wish I could tell you more than that. It seems that just as the
kick-off was about to take place, a sudden disturbance rolled through
the
stadium," stammered the reporter.
"Can
you tell us the cause? Has there been an explosion or anything like that?"
interrupted the anchor.
"Uh,
not that we're aware of, Randall, but things are chaotic here. I mean the
strangest thing I've ever seen happened, but there's gotta be some explanation.
It
seems ... uh ... it happened in a split second. Football players from both
teams simply, suddenly vanished."
The
confused anchor interrupted, "Can you explain that? Do you mean they got
kidnapped, or what?"
"Well,"
continued the shaken reporter, "I ... uh, we're not sure. I've asked a
cameraman to get a shot for you, a shot of the field so you can see. There.
Do
you see that?" The screen showed a close-up of an empty uniform, pads,
shoes, and helmet. They looked as though they had simply been dropped in a
pile.
"That's
it, Randall? That's all that's left of at least nineteen, that's the count,
nineteen so far, nineteen players. Now I'm getting reports that the
same
thing has happened to hundreds of fans." Terry, speaking to someone
off-camera said, "Tell camera fourteen to pan the crowd." Then
addressing the
anchor,
the reporter said, "Randall, uh, I know this sounds nuts, but these people
have just vanished!"
Viewers
saw a quick, distant crowd shot of thousands of stunned fans in the stadium.
"Awe,
come on, Terry," the anchor interrupted with nervous laughter.
"Surely you jest. People don't just disappear."
"Look,"
said the on-scene reporter, before stopping to answer off-screen directors,
"If it's ready now. It is?" Turning again to face the camera, Terry
said,
"Randall, excuse me, but I've just been told that we've a piece of footage
that captures the exact moment of this disappearance. This is the replay
...
Let's ... Can we go with it now? Yes? OK. Randall? Here is the shot of the
teams lining up for the kick-off." The screen showed the teams lined up
on
the field for kick-off. "Now watch. Just as the head referee blows the
whistle, now look," the excited reporter trying to describe what viewers
were
seeing
said, "As the kicker runs toward the ball ... boom. He's gone. Did ya' see
that? Just gone! And as we freeze-frame ... look! There're how many?
Maybe
a dozen more empty uniforms suddenly lying on the field. From one frame to the
next they're gone! Wham. Just like that! It couldn't have taken more
than
fractions of a second."
With
this the anchor interrupted again, saying, "Uh, Terry, uh, this is a bit
too much. I'm sure all of this has a perfectly logical explanation. We're
being
told by the boss to go to break. So folks, we'll be right back."
The
students sat In stunned silence. A single ray of sun penetrated the brush roof
of David's small lean-to and lit on his forehead. The heat woke David
from
a deep sleep. It took only seconds for him to reorient himself to that which
had so occupied him the night before. He had returned very late and spent
most
of the night reading the retrieved Bible. Then he had struggled to reconstruct
the events that seemed to have started this nightmare that he was now
living.
He had finally fallen asleep.
As
he rubbed his eyes and started to stretch, he became aware of the still- open
Bible lying across his outstretched legs.
As
the familiar hunger pangs stirred deep within his stomach, he decided to forego
his routine search for breakfast this morning. Breakfast, as did every
other
meal, meant foraging around in the woods for bugs, ants, beetles or an edible
root or plant. Survivors had been reduced to eating things that in
better
times they would have never even dreamed of putting in their mouths.
Focusing
again on the open Bible, he began comparing the events he had been living
through with those foretold in the Scriptures. The similarities were
undeniable.
He
recalled how short-lived the world's preoccupation with the "sudden
disappearance" of all those people had been. Before anyone could come up
with a satisfactory
explanation,
war had broken out in the Middle East. It was speculated that Russia wanted to
take advantage of the world's confusion after "the disappearance."
So
she had gathered her allies and invaded the little country of Israel. David
didn't know much about the geopolitical realities of the Middle East or
anywhere
else for that matter. He did, however, remember how often Uncle Trevor used to
talk about just such an invasion.
Uncle
T's words were deeply etched in his memory. "Thousands of years ago,
Ezekiel foretold with uncanny precision even the types of nuclear weapons to
be
used, of the location of the great battle, and about how God would
supernaturally move to save the little nation of Israel."
They
had laughed at him behind his back. David, shaking his head, mused out loud,
"But no one's laughing now." His eyes were drawn back to Revelation
6:2.
David
was deeply grateful that Uncle T had scribbled a considerable number of related
Bible references and short explanations of each verse.
David
squinted and was able to make out the words jotted in the margins.
"Antichrist, Daniel 9 ... makes a peace treaty ... short-lived ... AC to
dictate
over
New Roman Empire ... Euro nations ... see." Here the edge of the page had
been burned, obscuring Uncle T's remaining thought.
But
David understood. He had watched with the world as 24 hour television covered
the bloody battles that had raged on the "mountains of Israel."
"That's
all
anyone did," David quietly reflected. "We just watched. All of
Israel's allies, America and the other NATO countries had refused to get
involved."
David
recalled the excuses of his country's leaders who had claimed to be overwhelmed
with "our own struggle to survive." A week after that infamous
Superbowl
Sunday,
America's economy had crashed, followed by massive civil unrest. Martial law
had been declared but when communication systems were lost a short
time
later, anarchy ruled most American cities. The whole country had turned upside
down. Society had convulsed. The rest of the world had been in much
worse
shape than America. Chaos had gripped the globe.
The
TV talking heads went on and on with their prognoses and editorializing.
"Israel will soon be no more ... Russia will be restored as a world power.
The
oil supply from the Middle East to the West will be stopped."
Network
anchors commented how, with a quick victory in the Middle East, Russia's
allies, the Arab nations, would finally have what they had always wanted:
millions
of dead Jews, the end of Israel, the occupation of Palestine, Jerusalem, and
for Islam, The Temple Mount.
David
strained to recall the events, the names and the reports. Shaking his head, he
thought with remorse, "Why didn't I pay attention or write it down?"
He
was becoming convinced that everything that had been happening since that
Super Bowl Sunday had been foretold in the pages of the very
Book
in his hands. "What was it Uncle T used to say?" David mumbled.
"Something like, 'The Word of God is more current than tomorrow's
newspapers!"' Suddenly
David
bolted up from his prone position on the cot.
"Newspapers,"
David laughed. "Newspapers. Yeah! I got newspapers." David had just
remembered all those gigantic stacks of old newspapers he had found months
before.
After reading and rereading them for something to do, until he had them almost
memorized, he had decided to use them as insulation in his lean-to
walls.
He was ecstatic that he had kept them.
He
furiously dug into the thickened walls of his little hut until he retrieved
every single page of old newspaper he had so carefully inserted months ago.
Thumbing
rapidly through hundreds of pages of newsprint, he eventually came upon all the
articles he had hoped to find.
"Yes,
here's another one, " David excitedly mumbled, as he eyed the bold
headlines. "Israel Saved ... Secret Weapon Destroys Invaders."
The
article read, "Against overwhelming odds, in a last minute gasp for its
national life, tiny Israel surprised the world with a defense-strike capability
that
even most Israelis did not know existed."
He
found a multitude of other related articles and headlines. "Israelis Dance
In The Streets," " 'God Saved Us,' says Israeli Prime Minister,"
and "Miracles
in
Israel ... Enemy Routed." The article beneath said, "Not since
ancient days in Biblical times has this little nation seen such a powerful
demonstration
of
miraculous intervention. Old rabbis dancing in the streets of Jerusalem, Haifa
and Tel Aviv are quick to give their God, Jehovah, all the credit for
their
unexpected and sudden military victory. However, analysts are now speculating
that the salvation of Israel more likely came from new high tech secret
weapons
rather than the 'Old Man Upstairs."'
David
also found related stories of the war's devastation that had made Israel a
wasteland. He read of the new despair of all Israelis over their new
vulnerability
in
a world that, for the most part, still detested these whom Uncle T had always
called "the chosen of God."
For
hours, David dug through the pile of crumbling old newspapers. Finally his
tired eyes fell on an especially large headline and accompanying picture,
giving
him first a sense of exhilaration and then one of sheer terror, "New
European Prime Minister Extends Olive Branch." Under the headline was a
picture
of
the United States of Europe's newly elected Prime Minister, Sir Richard
Montebaum. He stood with the heads of state of ten recently united European
nations,
all shaking hands with the Prime Minister of Israel. The hair on the back of
David's neck stood on end as he began to read the article.
"Sir
Richard seems to have no end to diplomatic miracles in his new portfolio as
Prime Minister of the United States of Europe.
Just
as most nations were still reeling from the massive problems following D-Day
(disappearance day - when millions vanished), Sir Richard took office.
Since
then he has demonstrated an almost supernatural ability to resolve every
conflict that has tested him. He is the first in history to bring a promise
of
lasting peace to the Middle East. For the first time, all parties are pleased
with his new treaty's terms, especially Israel, who finally has guaranteed
borders
and a security to be insured by the word and influence of Sir Richard.
According
to the Prime Minister of France, Francois Petrouli, 'Sir Richard has the
charisma of Galahad, the oratory skills of Churchill, the love for peace
of
Ghandi, the intellect of Thomas Jefferson and the political appeal of Kennedy'
Petrouli added, 'To date the new United States of Europe's Prime Minister
has
solved every problem facing the new Euro-coalition, the Middle East and for
that matter, the world, seemingly without effort.'
The
latest benefactors of Sir Richard's heartfelt longing for world peace and prosperity
are the bleeding but victorious people of Israel. After decades
of
nonstop warfare and following their greatest military victory since the
crossing of the Red Sea, it appears, at last, peace, in the person of Sir
Richard,
the
new Prince of Peace, has come to the Holy Land."
Finishing
the article, David cynically mused, "So, Sir Richard is the serpent. It's
little wonder Mr. Peacenik couldn't keep it all together. Uncle T had
always
referred to Satan as 'the Destroyer.' Well, that's what this guy's been doing
lately." As the reality sank in, David involuntarily shivered. He
had
read the ninth chapter of Daniel repeatedly. All the facts from Scripture, the
well-marked references of Uncle T and the supernatural rise to power
settled
the matter. Sir Richard, he now understood, was evil incarnate.
The
months of malnutrition, of exposure to the rainy winter conditions and the
complete absence of any medical attention had destroyed David's immune system.
Unable
to ward off the many infectious assaults upon his body, his physical condition
had deteriorated to such a state that he was having great difficulty
breathing.
Pulling
himself to his feet, David became faint. I Ie hadn't eaten anything at all for
over 24 hours and it had been months since he had had any real nourishment
other
than bugs, berries and the one dead bird he had found. What little had been
left after the ants had finished it had made David sick for days. He
knew
that unless something changed soon he wouldn't live much longer. His only reason
for staying alive now was to solve this horrifying mystery that had
become
his life - or to at least make some sense of it.
After
a long stretch, David crossed his legs, sat down in the midst of the stacks of
newspapers, and reached again for the Bible. He read Revelation 6:4,
"And
there went out another horse that was red; and power was given to him that sat
on it to take peace from the earth..."
David
needed no help in interpreting this verse. He had witnessed its fulfillment.
"Sir Richard's peace program was short lived indeed," sneered David
as
he
recalled the devastating nuclear exchanges that had broken out around the world
only months after the signing of the peace treaty in the Middle East.
He
also remembered that only a month after "the disappearing, " America
had elected a President with isolationist leanings. "We thought,"
said David as
though
he were addressing a group of his friends, "America could escape a nuclear
holocaust, and for a while we did. But then one by one, our major cities
over
a two-week period were annihilated by hydrogen bombs."
No
one could believe how quickly, almost overnight, their great nation, the United
States of America, had been so easily and completely destroyed. David
bowed
his head and softly wept. The memories were too real. He had seen what men were
capable of doing to each other, not only with long-range, impersonal,
intercontinental
ballistic missiles, but with their bare hands.
Yes,
the "red horse" whose rider took peace from the earth removed it not
only from amongst the nations but from among friends and even families. David
had
witnessed the savagery of women and even children slaughtering each other for
no other reasons than sheer hatred or to secure a crust of bread. Humanity
had
been reduced to an animalistic state, no, lower than that, to the level of the
demonic.
David's
tears dripped onto the pages of the Bible. Distraught, yet determined to
continue, he opened his eyes and read the next verse about another "rider
on
a black horse" who would curse the earth with famine.
David
had always thought that Uncle T had been referring to Third World countries
when he talked about this passage. David had watched as this prophecy
had
sprung to life before his eyes. He tried so often to shut out the hellish vision
of the emaciated bodies, the stench of death and the wanton cries
of
children pleading for a piece of bread. He wanted to forget the cruelty and the
depravity. He hated the memories of watching people he had known all
his
life turn into snarling, vicious animals fighting in the streets over a carcass
of something - or was it a someone? David had been repulsed, turning
his
head, not wanting to know.
But
these memories were seared into his soul. Memories not of faraway places, but
of the streets of his own hometown. The flashbacks of these horrid weeks
of
hell caused a wave of nausea to overcome him. Gasping, with his hand held over
his mouth, he stumbled out of his lean-to.
After
the nausea had subsided, David slept for three hours. Upon awakening, he reached
again for the old Bible. David had felt worse in his life, he told
himself,
but he couldn't remember when.
Pulling
himself into sitting position, he peered through the worn tarp that hung over
the entrance to his tent-like shelter. The sun, as he suspected, was
about
to sink below the tree line. He knew he must work quickly or else he would be
forced to burn the last of his candle.
The
roving violent gangs could easily spot campfires in the dark of night, so
survivors would not dare risk starting one after sunset, regardless of how
cold
it got.
Straining
to focus his eyes on the well-marked passages of Revelation, David softly said,
"I've got to know where and how it's all going to end." He wondered
if
these pages would reveal any hope for him. He had long feared that the only way
out of this nightmare was death. As the storm of God's judgment hammered
his
world, he felt his time was running out.
He
looked down on Revelation 6:8 and read of the rider upon the pale horse.
"And power was given unto him ... to kill with the sword, and with hunger
and
with
death and with the beasts of the earth."
Closing
his eyes, he could recall the terrifying images that had filled the news
reports night after miserable night.
"Such
unimaginable massive hemorrhaging of humanity," he thought as he
remembered the suicides of so many of his friends, and the reports of men
killing
their
entire families, then themselves. He shuddered at the memories of how various
large groups of neighbors had made death pacts and then helped each
other
die. It was massive insanity. Fearing the pale horse would soon gallop into
their own lives, so many, no longer able to bear the horror, the terror,
the
deprivation, simply chose to end it all. David had never understood suicidal
tendencies before, but he did now. So often he had wanted to die rather
than
face another day of this living death, but something had kept him alive.
And
then there were those who had lived just outside the cities where death rained
from the sky with nuclear, biological and chemical agents of annihilation.
Not
close enough to be killed in the initial blasts, they were simply left to die a
little at a time. Diseases spread through rotting corpses left unburied,
the
starvation of millions and the murderous grab by survivors for any remaining
food, water and shelter left in their wake a world gasping for a breath,
to
live just a little longer.
Those
who did live, with few exceptions, wished they hadn't. David also contemplated
the ferocity of all those animals, domestic and wild, that had lost
any
fear of humans. Mad with hunger, the animal kingdom had begun to assault people
with a new savagery. But almost all animals had now become extinct,
with
the exception of various insects, many of which were also assaulting humankind
with a seeming vengeance.
Shaking
his head in an attempt to clear his mind, he read again in Revelation 6:9,
"1 saw under the altar the souls of them that were slain for the word
of
God and (their) testimony."
David
tried to remember why these particular verses had always excited his uncle.
Scanning
the margin of the Bible, he noticed the inked-in passages and remarks.
Squinting his eyes and holding the Bible sideways to better read his uncle's
scribbled
notes, David was finally able to make out the faded words, "Mercy for
those who seek Him, even in the midst of tribulation." The words arrested
his
attention. He read the phrase over and over again.
Closing
his eyes he could easily see the family dining over a New Year's Day feast
their last time together. At the first lull in conversation, sweet ol'
Uncle
T had started sharing how some would experience the grace of God even during
the seven-year tribulation.
"Now
I remember," David spoke to himself with increasing excitement, "God
will even now work in some hearts."
His
eyes brimming with tears of hope, David fumbled through the pages reading each
of the Scriptures that Uncle Trevor had etched in next to this verse.
With
every reference he read, his hope soared still higher. "Is it possible, oh
God," David half-prayed, "that you care?" Finding the right book
and chapter
to
the last reference his uncle had written in the margin, David hurried his
finger down the page to find the exact verse.
Tears
now burst over the rims of his eyes as he read out loud, "Acts 16:31,
'Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and thou shalt be saved."' The words
pierced
David's
heart with visible conviction. This is the exact verse that he and Uncle T had
been discussing that day the hospital had called his uncle to the
emergency
room.
Trembling,
he read the verse over and over. The same sense of crushing need that had
overwhelmed him the day his uncle had run to the hospital again swept
over
him. Could he still believe? Would God still hear him?
Falling
on his face, David sobbed. "Oh God, I've been so wrong, so dirty, so long.
How could you ever forgive me?"
A
rebellious heart, once cold and bitter against God, melted into sweet
submission as the prayers of a faithful, godly uncle were answered.
In
the crucible of an angry, raging furnace of judgment, another soul found the
Savior.
David
spent the night on his face, broken at the feet of his new Lord. David knew
this was the beginning not only of a new day, but of a new life. He couldn't
believe
how clean he felt.
He
now knew that he was among those of whom he had read, those who came to know
Christ during this time of "great judgment." He also remembered that
Uncle
T
had always taught that the majority of those who would turn to Christ during
this period would pay with their heads. Smiling at such a thought, David
remarked
to himself, "What a privilege. It'd be such a paltry sum to pay for all
He's done for me." If he was to be among those so honored to be martyred
for
Christ or among the very few to witness the second coming of his Lord before
the angel of death touched them, he would be happy. His heart was finally
at
peace.
Having
returned to the lean-to, David read further in Revelation. Under the subtitle
of "the sixth seal," he read verses 12 through 16:
I
beheld .... a great earthquake .... sun became black ... and the moon became as
blood .... and men hid trembling in the caves ... and said to the mountains....
fall
on us .... hide us from the face of Him .... on the throne.
David
stopped and thought back. Television, radio, and newspaper had long since been
gone. Then the only communication anyone in his hometown had with the
outside
world had been a single ham radio operated and owned by David's brother-in-law.
David and a few others had gathered day and night to listen to
reports
from others scattered around the hemisphere. The broadcasts were ominous. News
came of the total collapse of most national governments. The few
exceptions
were in the
Far
and Middle East, and the remaining European coalition. Reports told of the
total disruptions of entire civilizations and of gargantuan, devastating
earthquakes.
Entire cities were swallowed by the earth and radical continental shifts
reshaped the earth's topography.
David
lived in the Midwestern part of North America, in what used to be called Ohio.
This rural area was far away from metropolitan areas that had been
so
completely decimated.
Some
survivors like David still wandered the hills scratching out an animalistic
existence and, of course, there were the violent squatters who controlled
the
demolished town. But clearly, this tiny little corner of the globe had suffered
far less than most of the world.
On
rare occasions, from a distance, David would see someone from the other side of
these walls as they foraged for something to eat, but there were no
friendships.
There
was no trust, loyalty or, seemingly, love left in the world. Daily life for
everyone was one of hiding from every other living soul or of killing
before
one was killed.
David
had heard that most of North America was a vast wasteland wrought by war,
internal chaos and natural disasters unprecedented in scope.
The
fact was, civilization as David had known it no longer existed within thousands
of miles of this place or possibly anywhere on earth. If the last few
pieces
of information he had heard were to be believed, then societies in parts of
Europe, Asia and some remote areas of Africa still functioned. However,
judging
from what he had discovered in the Scriptures, the world as it probably now
existed was not a world that David would care to live in.
Long
ago he had decided to live out what there was left of his life here, in this
wilderness. Sometimes he could approach river travelers, who sometimes
passed
along the news that they had heard.
The
scenes they described were of cataclysmic convulsions of nature that had caused
the death of literally billions of people. He had been told that less
than
thirty percent of the earth's population still existed and that many who had
perished did so "while cursing the Almighty God" whom they blamed for
this
"universal convulsing of all nature."
It
was said that the survivors, even the once most powerful leaders of the world,
the wealthy and the influential, now lived in caves, holes in the ground
and
in dens like animals.
"No
wonder," David had thought when hearing such tales, "the towns and
cities lie in radioactive and chemically laced poisonous heaps of ruin,
contaminated
with
the smell of death and disease." One traveler had despairingly remarked,
"The whole earth is crawling with human maggots like one giant rotting
corpse."
He
had wanted to close his ears to these horrid stories, to dismiss them as
foolish rantings. But, even from this, perhaps the safest place left on the
globe,
David could see and hear as the earth increasingly groaned. The heavens seemed
to be collapsing like a giant circus tent that had just had all of
its
poles jerked from beneath it.
Reading
the Apostle's description in Revelation 6, there remained no doubt in David's
mind that this moment in time was the "future" John had so clearly
seen
on the Isle of Patmos almost 2,000 years earlier. It read like a script of the
hellish drama that was now being played out on the stage of the universe.
With
great effort, David walked to the highest point overlooking the river and sat
down in the shade of the few tall trees still alive. "This may be,"
David
sighed,
"the only spot left on earth not yet totally destroyed by the fury of the
last several years." Closing his eyes, David strained to think. "How
long
has all this been going on?" He had stopped trying to keep up with the
days, months, and years a long time ago. The struggle for survival had been
all-consuming.
With a sigh, David looked up into the clear sky, smiled and prayed,
"Heavenly Father, how I thank you for taking away all the fear and
darkness.
But
now, in this world of nightmares, what is it, Father, that you'd have me do? I
feel so alone. Please, Father, speak to my heart."
Wearily
looking back to the Bible on his lap, David randomly flipped it open. His heart
leaped with joy as his eyes fell on Psalm 139. He read the verses
that
Uncle Trevor had heavily underlined. "Whither shall I go from Thy Spirit?
Or whither
shall
I flee from Thy presence? If I ascend up into heaven, Thou art there; if I make
my bed in hell, behold Thou art there. Even there shall Thy hand lead
me
and Thy right hand shall hold me. If I say, surely the darkness shall cover me;
even the night shall be light about me. Yea, the darkness hideth not
from
Thee, but the night shineth as the day; the darkness and the light are both
alike to Thee. How precious are Thy thoughts unto me, 0 God! How great
is
the sum of them."
Tears
fell from tired eyes onto the pages of the Bible. And then he slept. A sudden
gust of wind woke David with a start. Instinctively looking around for
any
danger, David realized he must have fallen asleep. Gathering his thoughts, he
decided to finish the passages describing what John the Apostle had prophesied
for
those, like David, who would be alive during this time called the tribulation.
He
opened to Chapter 8 of Revelation and read through to the end of the 9th
chapter. His mind rolled through each horrible description of six different
judgments
that the Apostle called "trumpets."
"This
must be, it's got to be what the leader of that last group of river people was
describing," David thought. "If so, then the end can't be much
further."
Laying
his head back against the tree, David thought back to his meeting with the
funny, little guy. The shabbily clad, gray-bearded, skinny little old
man
had told him, "Son, down river, beyond the eastern falls where the old
state of Tennessee used to lie, on a line as far north and as far south as one
can
travel, there ain’t nothing! No hills, no mountains, no cities, no towns, and
certainly no people."
Hearing
the man's report that there no longer existed an eastern seaboard to North
America, David had smiled.
"Laugh
if you will, boy," grumbled the gravelly-voiced old traveler, "but
everything from the western-most state line of Tennessee to the East Coast is
now
under the Atlantic Ocean."
David
remembered politely nodding but inwardly wondering if this leader of the two or
three families with him, like so many others, had lost his mind.
"Furthermore,
at
least so I's told nigh on a year ago," rambled this elder, "same
thing and worse has happened on the West side of this once-vast
continent."
The
old man had scratched his beard as though he was trying to remember what he'd
been told. "It seems the next generation, if there be one, will be able
to
buy pretty nice beachfront property up around Denver, Colorado. The Rockies be
the only thing that stopped the 2,000 foot-high tidal wave that struck
the
entire Pacific Rim."
David
was dubious but shaken when he had heard that. He couldn't help but ask,
"Why? What could have caused..." The old leader interrupted,
"You sure don't
know
much, do ya', boy? Ain't ya' heard?"
"If
you'll join up with us, you can hear it from those who seen it, and some who've
heard firsthand 'bout things - that is if the hostiles don't get us.
That's
why folks roam about with me. I knows where's they ain't. Have ye heard, son,
word is, a batch of em's gone to eatin' folk."
David,
ignoring the old news of cannibals, had pushed the old fella for more details.
"Then you gotta know more, more about what's happened?"
The
old man had spit, cocked one eye, and said, "Boy, ya' look old enough to
know, ain't nothing for free. What ye got to trade for such information?"
David
understood the language of barter. Money was worthless. Reaching into the
leather pouch hanging on his trousers David had pulled out a closed fist.
The
old man's beady eyes had peered suspiciously down a crooked nose at the fist
David held out.
For
a long few seconds David had watched the wrinkled face until the old eyes
looked back into his own. "Well, boy," the elder had snapped,
"you gonna tell
me
whatcha' holdin' in yer hand or make me guess?" David had been forced to
smile.
He
had turned his fist over and in a teasing manner slowly opened his hand as the
old man's eyes returned to see the secret treasure.
"Whoa,
them's good uns!" the old man exclaimed as reached to touch the
merchandise. But David had moved quickly to remake a fist hiding away the booty
that
had
so excited the elder. "Uh-uh," David smiled. "First, you brief
me, then the whole batch is yours. What do you say?"
"Let's
sit," said the elder, closing the deal. Several hours later, David and the
old man had stood and stretched. All questions answered and satisfied
that
he had made a good deal, David had been ready to hand over his pouch's
contents.
"Wait
a minute," said the elder as he had run 25 yards back to his ragged old
tent, returning quickly with a beat-up pan. The winded elder's eyes had danced
with
anticipation as he said, "Now, jest dump that there pouch into this here
cookin' pot. And I want all of 'em, don't ya' hold out on me, boy."
The
old man brimmed with excitement as David had emptied out his entire pouch full
of the fattest, juiciest earthworms either of them had ever seen. It
had
taken David eight hours to dig this batch. Such delicacies were rare and were
the closest thing to a grand banquet anyone would dare dream of. David
knew
that the half-pound of worms would've lasted him three days. He knew the old
man had no intention of rationing these beauties. Even as David had turned
to
wave good-bye, he had seen that the old man was already too preoccupied with
his treasure to notice David's exit.
Glancing
back over his shoulder one last time, David had seen the excited old man with
his head cocked all the way back, his mouth gaped open and his hand
holding
the spaghetti-like, wiggly bunch of night crawlers over his waiting lips. As
his stomach had growled in envy, David disappeared into the brush.
Now
from his perch high above the river, David recounted the news that he had
traded his fresh worms to get. Comparing the old man's information and with
that
gathered over months from various eyewitnesses with the prophecies of the
Apostle John left no doubt in David's mind.
The
old man's words had rolled like a script beneath David's closed eyes. After
they had struck a bargain on the worm pouch, the old man pulled David away
from
earshot of those in his group. Checking over his shoulder to be sure no one in
his small entourage could hear him, the elder had said, "Look son,
I
only act the part of an ol' codger. Those I guide think I'm an ol' river
cap'n." David had indeed heard the sudden marked change in the diction and
vocabulary
of
the man.
"I
discovered a long time ago, it's best to cover one's tracks when moving around
what's left of this country. A lot of those still alive don't care much
for
those of us who used to run the nation's business. They blame all this on
us."
David
had sat without answering. The older man took it as a cue to continue.
"Anyway, I am, or I used to be, Senator Norm Hathaway from the great state
of
Kentucky. I was flying my private plane back to Washington, D.C., when the
bottom fell out of the world. To make a long story short, after flying around,
then
running out of fuel, I crash- landed in what was Virginia. Injured, I spent
months crawling about in those hills. Guess everyone thought I had disappeared
with
that flying saucer bunch. Six months later I was found by some other survivors,
chiseled out a new identity, name and ... uh ... I guess you'd call
it,
'lifestyle.' The senator had then laughed and said with a bit of irony,
"Ha! Didn't we all? I mean, change lifestyles. Nothing was the same
anymore."
Then
the senator had begun to tell his story. At one point he said he had gotten to
a government installation prepared years ago as safety bunkers for congressmen
and
their families in case of a national emergency. He was, he said, able to
penetrate security perimeters, get in, identify himself and gain access to
the
secret communications area. "There is where most of my info comes from, so
what I'm telling about what's going on in the world isn't hearsay. I know
it's
true."
David
had listened in rapt attention as the senator told him the unbelievable events
that had been unfolding in the world. "At last, toward the end of my
life
in the compound things began to fall apart. The 800 or so people inside, well,
we ran out of food, then water. Folks started going mad, insane ...
that's
when I decided to take my chances on the outside."
David
had listened to the senator, knowing it was the final confirmation he needed of
all his suspicions.
Continuing,
Senator Hathaway had said, "So after two or three years this new superman,
Mr. Wonderful over in Europe, began to get weird. We had people,
I
mean our government had people across the pond. For a good while they stayed in
contact with us by using satellite phones, and high tech systems most
people
don't even know exist. Pretty sophisticated stuff, the best tax dollars could
buy. But anyway, Mr. - I mean Sir Richard - began to act like a new
Hitler.
He also invoked new laws, opened concentration camps for dissenters, called 'em
rehabilitation centers. He alone decided who ate, who didn't, who
lived,
who died. He controls the military, the government. - No, he is the government.
He's even got a system for economic exchange, purchasing, and selling
all
based on his own little numbers scheme.
"Then
some got upset, but hey, the world's self-destructing, right? This guy gave
people a rallying point. They started looking to him like he's a god or
something,
ya' know? But slowly privacy vanished, personal rights disappeared. Hey, the SS
and Hitler's Gestapo boys are like little old ladies compared
to
this crowd. After a while, we all thanked our lucky stars we were stuck
here."
David
had been so intrigued he did not want to interrupt the man who kept talking,
"But, then the Ruskies, still ticked about being blown to pieces in Israel
years
before, came back strong. They still had all their nukes and much of their air
power though their navy was gone. America? Ha! What America? Lots
of
folks said God finally judged America. No, what took us out was, well, nobody
really knows what hit us.
"It
seemed like we'd escaped the limited nuclear exchanges in Europe and the Middle
East. Then some rinky-dinky terrorist group hit DC and Red China at
the
same time. The Chicomms thought we hit them, we thought they'd hit us. Before
you knew it, both of us became little more then smoldering ash heaps.
Everyone
thought, at least those left alive, that everything was over then. Fact is, it
was just beginning. Right when we thought it couldn't get any worse,
it
got worse and all hell broke loose. NASA might have seen it coming, but NASA
had long since gone up in smoke.
"I'm
sure you saw. The whole world did - the light shows, I mean. What a sight in
the skies! Fires are still raging across the globe. We'll never know how
many
are dead or dying. The question is, how has anyone survived? Last estimates
before I left the compound were that less than two billion souls, two
billion
out of six billion, were still alive. Those still living turned to Mr. Answers,
still running the show in Europe, but he already had his hands
full.
No one knows where the creatures came from. It seemed they covered the earth
with torment. Imagine! Ungodly stinging, demonic, uh ... things - some
called
'em aliens - an army of 'em - terrorizing the world - mean, it's like Stephen
King comes alive or Hitchcock's birds gone high tech crazy, attacking
everything and everyone. They had to be the Russians' or the Chicomms' or uh, maybe even
our own secret weapons gone awry.
"Oh,
yeah, on top of all this crazy stuff, as if it's not enough, Sir Richard
decides he's not happy just ruling the known world. He wants to be the Pope,
too.
"Hey,
you would pledge allegiance to his church of the Humane or lose your head. Ha!
But you know something, kid? There's one group out there that thumbed
their
noses at Sir Richard the Pope. Yeah, they had their own God. Ticks Sir Richard
off big time, it does. These Christians decided martyrdom is better
than
life in Sir Richard's great new world. The more he kills of 'em, Sir Richard, I
mean, the more of 'em there are.
"I'll
tell ya' one thing, Davey boy, the guy, Sir Richard, he don't quit. Hey, did
ya' hear what he did next? Ha! He did the Pope thing one better. He ups
and
decides being Pope isn't enough, so he goes over to Jerusalem, Israel, walks
into the new Temple they built, and claims to be God. Yeah, God! He tells
everyone
to bow down and worship him. Now that's a good one. Why didn't I ever think of
that when I considered running for President back in, uh, em ...
aw
... it doesn't matter. GOD! Imagine that."
David
had felt compelled to ask the senator if that had been the last he had heard.
In
response, the senator has looked down as though studying his feet, sighed and
said, "Well, guess it makes no difference if you know. But two days ago
I met an old colleague of mine. He'd gone to a d