The Countdown Begins Page 4
Holmes continued, “The third obstacle was knowing the identity of Antichrist. After all, he’s the one who will defile it. Now that we know for certain ‘the prince who is to come’ and the ‘man of lawlessness’ Daniel and Paul were referring to is none other than Salvador Romanero, and since God showed up three days ago and caused a mighty miracle for His chosen people, it’s as if a surge of national pride was created.
“With the three Muslim holy sites removed, and with so many Muslims now in prison, Jews everywhere are flocking back to Israel in droves and are suddenly in favor of building a new Temple.”
“But don’t they need the Temple to be built first?”
Holmes nodded yes. “I believe until a more permanent structure is built, the Jews will erect a temporary tent temple similar to the Tabernacle of Moses. This could be done in no time. Wouldn’t be surprised if they resume sacrifices from there in a day or two.”
“Makes perfect sense,” said Nigel Jones, rubbing his aching forehead. He still had jet-lag after the long flight from Australia on his private jet.
Travis Hartings weighed in, “How awesome that we all got to witness the removal of the Muslim holy sites with our own two eyes. Even more incredible, at least to me, was hearing the pilot who fired the missile confess that Israel’s God flicked it away from the Western Wall into the Dome of the Rock. All I can say is wow!”
Amos Nyarwarta’s eyes filled with tears. Fully convinced that the Most High God of Israel really was the One True God, and the Jews—a people he was brainwashed to hate all his life—really were His chosen people, the former Muslim realized just how much his former faith was fueled mostly by hatred and revenge.
Had Yahweh not rescued him from the false religion of Islam, perhaps he, too, would be in prison now, totally bent on revenge against the Jews and Salvador Romanero. Or he’d already be dead and forever doomed.
Feeling overcome by the Holy Spirit, Nyarwarta shouted, “Hallelujah! Let us bless the Lord and give praise to the Most High God of Israel!”
In his deep gravelly voice, Nyarwarta started singing...
“It is well with my soul...
It is well, it is well with my soul...”
Miss Evelyn started singing the first verse of the song...
“When peace like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll
Whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say
It is well, it is well, with my soul...”
Everyone repeated the chorus lines after her...
“It is well (it is well)
With my soul (with my soul)
It is well, it is well with my soul...”
When they got to the last verse, everyone stood and sang with Miss Evelyn...
“And Lord, haste the day,
when our faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend!
Even so, it is well with my soul...”
It is well (it is well)
With my soul (with my soul)
It is well, it is well with my soul
It is well (it is well)
With my soul (with my soul)
It is well, it is well with my soul...”
When they were finished there wasn’t a dry eye inside the ETSM cabin. Despite that the seven most horrendous years humanity would ever face were now upon them, the 25 souls in Oak Ridge, Tennessee felt completely protected knowing Yahweh God had commanded angels to guard them in all their ways.
By dwelling in the shelter of the Ancient of Days, they were able to temporarily ignore the turmoil all around them and abide in the shadow of the One who had made them.
To the outside world, this may have been viewed as sheer madness. But as children of the Most High God, it made perfect sense to them...
4
AFTER A LENGTHY PRAISE session to the King of majesty, Charles Calloway dried his moist eyes and excused himself to use the restroom. He turned on his cell phone and saw numerous missed calls from his childhood friend, Santana Jiles.
Charles called him back.
“Hey, bro, are you in Atlanta?” Jiles seemed troubled.
“Not until tomorrow, why? Everything okay?”
“The church is gone.”
“My father’s church?”
“Yes. Burnt to the ground by arsonists!”
“When?” Calloway’s heart throbbed within him. His father had built Mount Zion Baptist Church from the ground up, with his own two hands.
“Early this morning. Been trying to call you all day.”
“Sorry. I turned my phone off so I could concentrate on the peace treaty signing...” Calloway didn’t tell his friend he was at a cabin in Tennessee. “How do you know it was arson?”
“Deacon Stone drove by the church at five a.m., and saw an unfamiliar car parked in the lot. He went inside to find four masked gunmen ransacking the place. He was no match for them.
“They tied his hands behind his back and covered his mouth with duct tape. I’m at the hospital now. Deacon Stone’s in intensive care. He’s heavily sedated so it’s hard to understand what he’s saying.”
Calloway grimaced. Ernest Stone was one of the first members at Mount Zion and one of Charles’ late father’s best friends. Many who were left behind were totally shocked upon learning that the deacon was left behind with them. “Intensive care?”
“Yeah, I’m coming to that. From what I could gather, he watched in stark terror as the thugs emptied desk drawers, filing cabinets and closets, looking for anything of value. They had absolutely no regard for church property. They even made him watch as one of them defecated before the altar, while the other three urinated on Bibles and hymnal books. One of ’em said, ‘This is payback from Satan!’”
Calloway grunted, “Seriously?”
“Yeah. He even wiped himself with pages torn out of a Bible. Can’t imagine being forced to witness such evil. After ransacking your father’s office, they found his safe. Deacon Stone was forced at gunpoint to reveal the combination. At first, he claimed he didn’t know it.
“After being struck in the head with one of the assailant’s guns, he finally gave it to them. Before opening it, the thugs fired shots through the roof like a bunch of drunken cowboys. Deacon Stone said he felt like he was transported back to the Wild West. He said they had no fear of the police showing up.
“Anyway, when the leader opened the safe and found nothing of value inside, only piles of worthless paperwork, your father’s favorite Bible, and a few CDs and DVDs from his past sermons, he was so enraged that he took it out on brother Stone’s face.”
Jiles sighed. “They beat him pretty bad, bro. He has cuts and bruises all over his face. And a few of his teeth are missing...”
Calloway clenched his fists and did his best to swallow his anger, “He’s eighty-two! I wish it would’ve been me instead of him.”
“They’re lucky I wasn’t there. Wouldn’t have gone down without a fight. After rolling the safe into the main sanctuary, they emptied the contents on the floor in front of the altar, then grabbed all Bibles and hymnal books in the pews and threw them on the pile.
“One of them poured gasoline on top and lit a match, shouting ‘Hail Satan!’ As the flames quickly spread, they fired off more gunshots, poking several more holes in the ceiling, walls and pews. One of them laughed insanely while shooting out all the stained-glass windows.
“The one who defecated in front of the altar pressed his gun up against Deacon Stone’s right temple saying, ‘Where’s your so-called Jesus now? Let Him save you! Long live Satan!’ The gun must’ve been hot because it left a burn mark near his right temple. And he has bruises all over his face. Dark as his skin is, they’re still quite visible.”
Jiles shook his head. “Before leaving through the back of the sanctuary, the masked gunman slapped Deacon Stone across the face so hard it knocked him off the chair he was loosely ti
ed to.
“Turned out to be a blessing because he was able to free himself. Otherwise, he would have been burned alive inside the church. He spent a few minutes crawling on his hands and knees looking for his glasses one of ’em tossed to the back of the sanctuary. You know how blind he is without ’em.”
Charles didn’t reply. He was too busy trying to stabilize his breathing.
“Thankfully he found ’em before choking to death on the smoke and was able to escape. He called 911 but it was too late. By the time the fire department arrived, the damage was already done. Paramedics affixed an oxygen mask on Deacon Stone’s face and rushed him to the ER.”
Hearing all this pained Calloway deeply. “Will he be okay?”
“Well, they put him on a respirator to help clear his lungs from so much smoke inhalation, but the doctors said he’ll probably survive. Can’t say the same for the church. It’s beyond repair. Deacon Stone said he never felt such evil in his life.”
“Text me the hospital address. I’ll rearrange my schedule and leave immediately.”
“Thanks, Charles. We need you here. As you can imagine, everyone’s devastated.”
“Tell ’em to remain calm and don’t do anything foolish. This is spiritual warfare at the highest level. In the end we win. But until that day comes, we’ll face many battles we can’t win.
“Tell Deacon Stone I’m coming to see him. If you’re still at the hospital when I get there, we can have lunch.”
“I’ll be here, brother.”
“Good. Keep a very close eye on all doctors and nurses until we know whose side they’re on. If they know Deacon Stone’s a Christian, they may...” Calloway paused.
Jiles knew what he was thinking. “I hear you, bro. Will do.”
“See you in a few hours.”
Calloway rejoined everyone at the breakfast table.
“Why the long face?” Travis Hartings asked.
“Just got word that my father’s church was burned to the ground.”
“Sorry to hear that...”
Clayton Holmes said, “Fasten your seat belts, y’all, this is just the beginning. It’s about to get a whole lot worse!”
“They went there to rob it but found nothing of value. One of them defecated on the floor before the altar saying, ‘Payback from Satan!’, while the others urinated on Bibles and hymnal books. Before leaving they set the church ablaze.”
“Are you kidding?” Donald Johnson asked.
Calloway rubbed his forehead. “I wish I was. They did quite a number on the oldest living member at the church. He’s in the hospital now in intensive care.”
“Will he be okay?” Manuel Jiminez asked, concern clearly visible on his face.
“I think so. I know churches are being set ablaze daily. Just never thought it would be my father’s church. Deacon Stone’s eighty-two. He was one of my father’s best friends.”
“Oh my...” Miss Evelyn gulped hard, then rose from her seat and gave Calloway a comforting hug. Just hearing that a man ten-years her senior was beaten senseless by four demon-possessed men was unimaginable. It was downright evil!
Braxton Rice weighed in, “Time to start vetting everyone else from your father’s church.”
“Thanks, Braxton.”
“But you know the rules, Charles. Only those who contact us regarding dreams they had are trustworthy. No one else! So not a word until we know for sure they’re ETSM worthy.”
“Understood. I gotta go, y’all. I wanna visit Deacon Stone before visiting hours are over. I still plan on joining you in Atlanta tomorrow to inspect the seven properties. Can you text the meeting location to me?”
Travis Hartings nodded yes.
“Before you go, Charles, let us pray for you,” Miss Evelyn said.
“Yes, please!” Calloway was teary eyed. “And please pray for everyone at my father’s church as well.”
Everyone laid hands on Charles. After a lengthy prayer, Braxton Rice led Calloway outside and gave him the keys to an ETSM vehicle. “Godspeed, Charles...”
“See you tomorrow, Braxton.”
At that, Calloway drove off. A million thoughts assaulted his mind. He sent a voice text message to Stephen Candelaria from Sarasota Full Gospel Church, warning him to keep a steady eye on the church. Chances were good someone might try to set it ablaze. Then he called Brian Mulrooney.
“Hey, Charles. I was just about to call you to get your take on the peace treaty signing.” When Charles didn’t reply, Mulrooney said, “Are you okay?”
“Not really. My father’s church was burned to the ground early this morning, by four Satan worshipers.”
“Oh, man! Sorry to hear that, bro.”
“I’m on my way back to Atlanta to see the damage for myself and visit one of my father’s best friends in the hospital. When he caught them in the act they beat him to a pulp. He’s in intensive care. The worst part is he’s eighty-two-years-old, and the oldest remaining member of the church.”
Mulrooney winced. “Will he survive?”
“I hope so.” There was sniffling. Then, “I need some alone time with God to calm my nerves. Would it be alright if we discussed the peace treaty signing once I get back to Atlanta and see what’s what?”
“Sure, but before you go, have you heard from Tamika yet?”
Calloway sighed, “Not a word, bro.”
“Think she’s still alive?”
“How can we know if she never answers her phone?”
“Just tried calling her again. Was told this time the number could no longer be reached. I’m really concerned for her.”
“Me too, Brian. Did you ever contact your friend who owns those delis? Perhaps he knows something.”
“I tried, but still haven’t heard from Craig Rubin. It’s like he wants nothing to do with me now.”
“We both know why. Call him again. This is an emergency. Perhaps you should go to New York and look for Tamika yourself.”
“Already thought about that. I need to know either way.”
“If her conversion was genuine, at least we can know she’s with Jesus now.”
“Amen to that. Still, I need to know...”
“Me too. Let me go so I can focus on the road. I’ll call you once I’m in Atlanta.”
“You got it, Charles.”
At that, the call ended.
5
THE FOLLOWING DAY
THEIR VOICES BOOMED THROUGHOUT the Wailing Wall vicinity. Deep, scratchy voices resonated thick in the Jerusalem air from these two rather strange-looking men.
Even without the use of bullhorns or microphones, everyone within a quarter mile of the Jewish religious site heard them loud and clear. Their voices practically shook the air!
For three straight days they sat in total silence. That all changed the moment the peace treaty was signed. Now they were on their feet, as if roused from a deep slumber. They went from being two mysterious strangers judging everyone with their eyes to two loudmouths condemning everyone with their voices.
With so much chaos in the world, it was only fitting for two unsightly fanatics to rise from the ashes wearing sackcloth clothing, sandals, long wiry gray hair and beards, shouting their full-throated messages of condemnation among the mass destruction.
Authorities were unsuccessful in gathering any kind of intelligence on them. What was there to gather? As far as anyone could tell, they carried no IDs, had no medical or dental records, and they weren’t registered in a single database anywhere on the planet.
The only thing authorities knew for sure was that they never left the Wailing Wall vicinity and they rarely slept, if at all. Apparently, they’d lost their minds after sustaining massive shell shock from the fierce bombing the other day.
Of course, the one place in which they could be traced back was where most never cared to look—God’s Holy Word.
From memory, one of them recited Zephaniah 1:2-3: “‘I will sweep away everything from the face of the earth,” declares the Lor
d. “‘I will sweep away both man and beast; I will sweep away the birds in the sky and the fish in the sea—and the idols that cause the wicked to stumble.’”
Then the other quoted Isaiah 45:17: “‘But Israel is saved by the Lord with everlasting salvation; you shall not be put to shame or confounded to all eternity.’”
Then one quoted Jeremiah 9:23: “‘Thus says the Lord: “Let not the wise man boast in his wisdom, let not the mighty man boast in his might, let not the rich man boast in his riches...’”
Then the other recited Jeremiah 9:24: “‘But let him who boasts boast in this, that he understands and knows me, that I am the Lord who practices steadfast love, justice, and righteousness in the earth. For in these things I delight, declares the Lord.’”
And on and on they went, back and forth, quoting Scripture upon Scripture, their voices rising high above the landscape. It was evident they weren’t there to debate the Word of God, only to preach it. And nothing could drown out their message of impending judgment; it reached the fleshly ears of all who hated God.
In a world full of people preaching sugar, these men clearly were salt! Their message was straight and to the point: “Repent or burn!”
One indisputable fact that couldn’t be denied was the total command they both had regarding the Talmud. Even so, the many still-blinded rabbis who’d joined in the fierce protesting against them, were equally appalled at how they kept connecting it to the New Testament, with everything ultimately pointing to one Man, one Savior, Yeshua HaMaschiach.
Each time they did this, the rabbis shouted, “Blasphemy!” at the top of their lungs. “Yeshua?! Yahweh’s only begotten Son?” they cried. “Messiah to us Jews? Anathema!”