Chapter 14: The Final Chapter
I hold Mark with my arm draped over his shoulder as he starts to snore in his bent over fetal position. I slowly lift my arm off Mark and spin his sleeping body around on the bench. A warm secure comforting feeling permeates the entire chamber. It actually feels kind a cozy. Paul very quietly tippy toe’s over the flames, which cast a fiendish lurking shadow over all the walls. He creeps almost silently down to his resting place, and I to mine. I cross my arms and lean back into this comforting darkness my Lord has given us to rest in. I tell my Abba, “Thanks for all your help.” He rewards me with a quick departure off into “La La Land.”
As I begin to drift back off, I hear a passage from my heart. It whispers tenderly to me, “For my yoke is easy.” All my worries evaporate, as I am carried off to a place even more heavenly.
In my peaceful sleep, something comes and securely snatches me firmly under my arms. Amazingly, I have no sense of fear, but rather of joy and peace. I look up and try and see what it is that is whisking me away. A glowing face seems to anticipate my concern, as it smiles down at me in this sea of darkness. It points to the prickle of light ahead, which looks like a star in the distant night sky. The only other thing I can see is the golden aura emanating from this magnificent flying beast; that is lighting our way. I know in my heart something adventurous and wonderful lays just ahead. We must be traveling beyond the speed of conceivable, because the point of light doubles in size every second. In this moment of captivity, I realize, I’ve never felt so free.
Just seconds later, we enter the pure white atmosphere, and then crash into the brightest and bluest “baby blue” sea of anyone’s imagination. It is soft and warm, and immense. Shimmering rainbows of color brush over the surface of this planet, just below us. Every hue is so vibrant that it almost hurts to look. I just want to fly through this sky forever and ever, seeing this entire magical spectrum. But, I feel us descending and slowing, as the stunning green surface grows larger and larger.
We pass over a small herd of laughing silhouettes chasing what looks like their leader. Suddenly, the children stop and look up, and then begin waving their arms to welcome us. Their invitation to join them feels like a warm summer breeze tickling the reeds on a brilliant tropical beach. I look up to ask this creature if it sees what I see, but this majestic giant is just wiggling his enormous fingers while whispering, “Hello,” to the tiny crowd below. I begin hearing the thrashing sound coming from above me as the atmosphere becomes thicker. His humungous wings are so strong they cause small cyclones to move over me, between each of his powerful swoops. They almost suck the breath from me, as they extend back up into the bright blue sea.
We pass over a mega metropolis of extravagantly designed pearl white palaces. Some tower much, much higher than the tallest buildings I’ve ever seen on Earth and some are shaped like dainty little cottages. A golden shimmer coming from the street below captures my attention. The dazzling shine off this golden magical mirror reveals the strolling specks of pedestrians joined arm in arm. My ears begin filling with the sounds of their joyful laughter, as they lovingly welcome one another along their journey. My desperate heart somehow wants to join them, but we jet pass this place towards the green rolling pastures just past the horizon. As we pass over the countryside, the fragrance of fresh fruits and blossoming flowers wonderfully overwhelms me.
I feel we’re about to land. I hear the whooshing slowing as we begin descending. We drop in several increments as the ground comes clearly into view. The winged thing that is securely carrying me sets me down without stopping. I am forced into a gently steady run after landing. As I slow, my intense senses are invigorated by these awestruck surroundings.
This place is magnificent. I venture up this transparent road that is wider than any highway I’ve ever traveled. I turn my head towards all the wonders facing me in every direction. This beautiful golden path is lined with “Mother of Pearl” columns that shine my perfect reflection. I see each pillar stretching way up beyond the fluffiest and whitest clouds I’ve ever seen. The shine and intricate design on these super megaliths are spectacular. I immediately realize they’re in a style I’ve never seen before. I walk closer to enjoy their unique artistic majesty and notice they contain a multitude of inscribed words. I move even closer to investigate what maybe written on this particular one.
I fall to my knees and immediately weep after reading the beginning words. Scrolled elegantly on it are, “Obelisk of Eternal Saint and Child of God: Betty Ann Perry; ‘A Cherished Monument to Her Life’.” Above these words are elaborately carved sentences stretching up to the sky. I start reading and find that the words are actually prayers my momma said over the years. This column must contain everyone she’s ever prayed, because the words spiral on and upward seemingly forever. I read the most important prayer I will ever hear. “Please dear Lord and savior; save my darling Joey...” I weep uncontrollably at these monumental words. I see similar numerous request for my salvation spiral around and around the “Mother of Pear” tower. I respectfully kiss the tower of prayer, as the sweet essence of this place invites me to move along.
I stare up the golden path rolling slightly upward and try to speculate how many pillars there might be. I look behind me to find there are just as many. Rolling green hills decorate the spaces between what must be millions of columns. “Insistence” seems to be invisibly steering me to move up this path, although I don’t know where it is hiding. I obey and stroll along. I walk about a hundred yards to the next obelisk. Along my journey I hear the music of tiny dancing silhouettes, laughing, playing, and chasing themselves in carefree circles. I look up and see gigantic winged birds bigger than any dinosaur I can recollect. Some are multicolor, and others are a single bright pastel of pink, orange, yellow, or purple. Some have a destination and fly off in a straight line, and others just circle these mega columns singing, “Holy, holy, and holy.” Curious, I take a closer look to find the dedicatee of this next column. This one belongs to my sweet sister, that I somehow suspected. It too is elegantly embedded with her prayers. Many are dedicated to me. I kiss the pillar and whisper, “Thanks sis for not giving up on me.”
I see someone floating towards me along the path ahead. I am startled at the power and knowledge it must possess to achieve such a feat; without using its feet. It must know I feel so insignificant, because it shouts, “Do not be afraid of me dear Joey! I’ve come to take you to a very special place.” He shimmers with subtle rays of rainbow colors flowing from his flapping white robe. Starbursts of sparkles appear as he passes through the light. He quickly arrives, and then stops at my feet. I strain my neck to see his smiling face looking down. He bends closer erasing the personal distance between our faces, and then asks, “How about a trip to the temple of God?” He rapidly nods his magnificent smiling head up and down several times; seemingly as excited as me at this offer. He knows my answer before I reply, because he touches me and I too begin hovering. I lift up to the level of his extend arm, as we begin floating back up the golden path. The pillars begin to look like slats in a picket fence as we pass them faster, and faster. I look over towards his large head as he smiles again, while pointing with his other arm straight ahead. I see a tall wall made of layers of gems that extends in both directions forever. I can almost see through it; if it wasn’t for the intense sparkling coming from its vibrant colors. In its center is a shimmering ivory white gate. On each of its sides are huge muscular winged soldiers with giant spears, shields, and swords standing at the position of unflinching attention. I am terrified as we approach the gate.
We slow as these giant hundred feet guards slam their spears against their bodies. They abruptly turn “left and right face,” respectively, and return their legs to attention. Each slowly draws their right hands upwards above their stern faces forming a salute. The towering gates methodically swing steadily and effortlessly open. I shake in fear as we pass between these awesome warriors. But, I’ve never felt so honore
d or so proud.
Just inside are four more matching monstrous soldiers; also presenting their respectful arms. As soon as we pass them, I hear their thunder as they return to their former positions. The only thing I can think of is, “Whew!!!” I see many translucent golden paths along the way, pointing all in the same direction. They verge, like spokes facing the center of a wheel, and travel in the direction we are. The castle ahead of us cascades with rivers of flowing clouds. I think to myself, “This thing is super humungous,” as the Angel swishing me along nods a serious, “Yes,” to my noisy thought. I hear him reply, without moving his mouth, “This is the temple of God!” I nod my reverent affirmation as we slow and land. “We must walk from this point on,” he orally tells me.
I see a person off to my side waiting to tell me something. I stop in front of him, confused. All though I’ve never seen him before I know who he is. He’s Amanda’s martyred brother Jimmy. He smiles a wonderful smile, which seems is his message to me that I am to take back to his worried sister. I reward him with my own smile that promises I will. I see next to him a beautiful young lady leaning against him. In an instant, I also know who she is. This is the old lady fleeing the LD with Jimmy and Amanda. I joyfully smile at her as well.
We continue up the path as I notice all the other golden paths merge. They all end at this splendorous brilliant white marble temple gate. A legion of behemoths all draws their spears inwards as we approach; one regiment is posted on each side of the gate. The towering gates swing inwards, as their tops plow the puffy clouds away. As we walk in I hear the rush of flying creatures’ way, way above. They are singing entrancing songs of worship and saying “Holy, holy, and holy.” The floor is a sea of very fine crystal that also seems to be singing. I can see the flying creatures in this floor just as easily as looking up. I almost become dizzy and disorientated, due to the lack of reference points these reflections cause, and the impossible distance this large structure presents. If there are walls, they are too far away to see. I take a moment more to absorb all this amazement, but the wonderful echoes of praise remind me I am in the princely presence of majesty. Humbly we continue on.
A brighter light, than even the brilliance here, is projecting from the distant area ahead. It is a shower of pure white pouring upwards, instead of down. The prestigious power of the pure light begins to burn my eyes. I raise my arm in defense to shield it, and then look just below my arm to see the glitter of many golden thrones. I see four mega giants, twice the size of the previous soldiers. They stand at the four corners of this gathering. Each has many wings, and each of their wings has thousands, and thousands of rapidly shifting eyes in them. I immediately become alarmed, as they begin to all stare at us. I tremble and stop. But, this Angel tugs me along anyway. He reminds me, “Don’t be afraid, you are the child of God.” I take advantage of the crystal floor and use it for my eyes. We move forwards between these beasts, as I stare reverently downward.
In a second, I fall down in my weakness. The weight of His holiness causes me to bow, and accidently kiss the crystal floor below. I shake while seeing the reflection of the guiding Angel stoop and bow also. I know I am only feet away from His holy presence. His warm gentle hand caresses my shoulder, as He commands me, “Rise!” His touch has cured the pain of my sight, which allures me to stare at His soothing smile. “I have brought you here Joey for a reason. Time is growing very short for man to accept my grace. I have opened Seals, and poured out bowls of judgment to prove I am God. Soon, I will finish with my wrath, and withdraw my present offer of eternal salvation.” My face becomes sad, and Jesus’ face too. “Do not be afraid, Joey. I hear your prayers. You still have work to do, and many souls to steer. Every dream and vision I’ve given you has a reason. Share these experiences and my message of salvation. Know this; my Holy Spirit is with you, and my divine power.” I nod my affirmation as He tells me, “I know you will.” He hugs me with the strength of a lion and the tenderness of a lamb, and says, “You are mine, and I will never let go of you.” I watch as He turns from me, and then grabs a scroll. I notice seven seals affixed to the scroll, but several are broken. He looks over his shoulder as He slides a finger under one seal still unbroken. I disappear in that moment. But, I know what is about to happen.
I find myself waking up, trying to determine if this is a vision and that was reality, or vice versa. I know where I was, is much more real. I reach into my rucksack, fumbling in the dark to find another “Canned Heat,” but I don’t find any. I kick around on the floor to see if I can find the last can burnt, and hear the tingling echo of multiple cans colliding against each other. I reach down and count three. My mental itinerary tells me, “That’s all she wrote.” I reach back into my sack and find my emergency flashlight. I turn it on, and then balance it, facing straight up in the center of the floor. I stand and check my Army watch, to see that it reads 1:05. I feel so completely rested I cannot sit any longer. The other guys begin to wake up as I head up the stairs. I slide the exit door’s securing bolt over, and make that terrible violin music again. This time I hear both Mark and Paul comment, “You need to take some more lessons,” and “You sound like I sing.” I chuckle and remark, “What’s up Chuck? Get it, up Chuck?” They boo at my rude attempt to be a comedian.
I lift open the door and pop my head out. Amazingly,
everything is finally over. I see ponds, and lakes, and dunes of fine soot replacing the town I once knew. I know nothing,
absolutely nothing, could have survived this. I say a silent prayer towards heaven thanking God Jesus for his providence and divine protection. I turn around for a panoramic view and feel one of the guys from below forcing me over to one side. In a second, I find out it’s Mark. I know he is thinking about the chances his family could have survived this devastation. Immediately, his face forms a deep depressing frown. He asks me, “Do you think anyone could have survived?” I give him the only logical answer I can think of. “With God, all things are possible.” A second after, I feel Paul shoving my rear upwards. I step out onto the fine dust and create pillars of dust clouds. Paul pops his head out and immediately proclaims God to be his god. I remind Paul, “He’s everyone’s God.” I feel there’s no room for sarcastic humor at this moment, while we all view this vast desert of destruction.
Paul and Mark steps out, as I pass them back down to retrieve my old rucksack. Reaching down, I grab both my flashlight and rucksack amidst the stream of sunlight rushing down the steps. I take a final moment to reflect as I spin slowly around. I don my sack and whisper to the inanimate cellar, “I will never forget you as long as I live.” Respectfully, I climb these steps for the last time while feeling a slight hollow echo of the memory formed inside me, saying, “Nor, will I.” I just nod twice a reverent goodbye.
“Are we ready?” I ask the fellows, as I step out alongside them. Mark asks, “Where are we going?” I turn and point towards the only object on the horizon and say, “Over there.” Paul again suggests God is his God. I say nothing to the reverend this time.
We all march off without fear of LD for the first time in a long, long time. Each of us carries a different perspective, as we step out onto this nearly formed planet. Paul’s gaze seems to be one of amazement; like a baby seeing for the very first time. “Everything is new,” he proclaims! I think everything is dead, but I don’t want to destroy his optimism. I determine hope may be one of the only things left worth living for. I know the heavy weight Mark is carrying. I reach over and tell him, “Marky, keep your chin up. God works miracles. You just wait and see. It’s alright to call you Marky, isn’t it?” The personalized touch to his name seems to have helped him lift his spirits-slightly. I tell him, “Have faith and believe.” I know inside, this is one of the hardest things in the world to do, but, it is something that scratches at every man’s soul. “Believe Marky!”
I walk and I pray for the revelation God will provide Mark’s teetering soul. But, I know in my heart, in my spirit, in every fiber of my being, Go
d will never ever let you down. I silently remind Jesus how dear Mark has become to us all. His answer one way or the other will affect us all. These are the times we are stretched beyond what we think we can stand. But, these are the times a man becomes a real man. Some call this the growing stage in our relationship with Christ. It is sometimes referred to like the body building term “no pain, no gain.” I prefer to think of it as the only way God sometimes can get our full attention. The only thing left is: Him, me, and a broken heart.
Every choking dusty step towards “Project Hope” feels more like one giant leap for all mankind. We trudge along pulling our undershirts over our faces as far as they’ll stretch. I fight the stench that three days of perspiration has left in my shirt, and continue to cough anyway. But, at least I can breathe now. We approach an almost perfect pristine pond; except for thin film of dust dimming its sheen. I stop and bend down to the peaceful water that is without as much as a single ripple. I scoop a handful and smell it. It smells fresh, and is cold enough to eat. I slurp the dripping remnant from my hand and taste how sweet it really is. I know this comes from a deep protected cistern that must have sprung up as the continental plate cracked. I invite the fellows to join in the festivities, knowing they haven’t had a real drink in days. I remark as they slurp, “This is surely a gift from God.” Paul tries to nod, but stops his affirmation, causing him to choke.
I laugh at him and call him a silly idiot, while he continues to chug down his fill.
I stare at the old store and can just about see life sprawling on the roof top. I pray and hope it is the watchman. I retrieve my knife and tilt its blade, hoping I can communicate our existence. I stare towards the roof and keep tilting it quickly up and down. I hear the guys finishing up, and ask them, “Would you care for some dessert with that meal?” I turn back towards them and see them using their shirt sleeves as napkins. I quirkily smile down towards Paul; which confuses him temporarily. He knows my comment was more than just the snide humor he has grown accustom to coming from me. “Okay, what do you mean?” I flip my blade closed and tell them, “It seems there is hope coming from “Project Hope.” Paul asks, “Do you mean they’re alright?” I just smile and nod, “Yes,” to them both. Paul jumps for joy while Mark runs his hand through his hair. I whisper to Paul, “That’s miracle number one.” He “catches my drift” without saying anything more.
“It’s time to move out,” I tell the bunch. Paul hurries to grab my canteen and fill it as quickly as he can. He comments, “This is some good stuff. I want to bring a full can back to share with the others.” We wait till the last life giving gulp of air burps out of the drowning canteen. Paul pats the can and smiles, “Yeah, this is good stuff.” In my humorous mind there forms a picture of smiling Pirate Paul saving the last keg of rum while standing on the deck of his sinking ship. “Yep Paul, that is some good stuff!”
We continue along the water’s edge while I watch our reflection in the water. With our undershirts pulled up we look like French Legionaries. I sigh out a single laugh, as we move away for the oasis resort near the beach. Paul finally makes a “funny” and asks, “I wonder if that thing has any fish in it?” I tell him, “Next time we’ll bring our poles and find out together.” I then remark, “Like my poppa use to say; ‘ten million comedians are out of work, and you’re applying for the job’.” We continue on.
I figure we’ve covered over a mile, and we now can plainly see our objective. Both Paul and my spirit grow more excited every step closer we get. Paul makes a comment without being very thoughtful. “I can’t wait to see our family.” Poor Mark’s steps slow as his head grows heavier and heavier. I tell Mark the Irreverent ahead are his new family too. That doesn’t seem to help boost his confidence one tiny bit. We continue on quietly the rest of the journey.
Repeated blinking from the “watchman” signals us we are in his sights. I shine my blade back to confirm reception of his message. The blinking stops as we step on, what I believe use to be, the edge of the property. It’s about the same distance, but there is absolutely no sign of foliage. There’ just tons and tons of pristine dirt marking the indistinguishable boundaries now.
I wrap my arm around Mark to assist him towards the building. Suddenly, I see distant movement approaching the building from all sides. I am astonished to see what is happening. Each of the teams is returning from each of the remaining four winds. I stare off in the distance to see their trails pointing like the arms of a compass towards “Hope.” Paul again claims God for himself, as I rather thank Him instead. I whisper just loud enough for us to hear, “Come to me my children,” while feeling a great satisfaction for their safe and miraculous arrival. I see each team waving their arms welcoming home one another. I turn in the moment towards Paul and whisper, “That’s miracle two.” The only person not cheerful is Mark. I think he feels he’s lost his family forever. Being around this welcoming committee just reminds him even more.
I see Amanda’s group approaching as we make it to the entrance way of the old store. The odd thing is she has a string of people following behind her black “Hello Kitty” backpack. I count one, two, and... nine all together. This means we have seven new members. I notice four are wearing Army fatigue uniforms. I make out Doug’s face from among the group,
and then wave my far off “Hello” to them. Amanda, Jerry, and Doug recognize me, and return their congratulations with a conquering wave of their own. I stare as they surf down the dust bitten dune while I hold my arms wide open. Their leader Amanda yells down to me, “I brought you some new customers!” I scream back, “Well, we’re open for business!”
I start adding two and two together as I see two fairly young men assisting this weary lady in between them. I think maybe it was Doug that showed up at Mark’s that day, and what I am looking at is miracle number three. I turn towards Mark’s hung head and ask him, “What was your honey wearing the last time you saw her?” He immediately looks up at me, knowing that is a strange question to ask him; unless! I just point to the “lineup” and ask him, “Can you identify any of these criminals?” He falls to his knees and screams, as every doubt in his body to the existence of God explodes out of him. He holds his arms open as widely as humanly possible, as I watch the flood of tears profusely pour out of him. I lean down as three lost sheep charge his position. I softly whisper into Mark’s ear, “There’s your answer, and your miracle. Remember your promise to God.” He nods his head rapidly and violently up and down. I move off to the side avoiding the impending tackle, as six worried outstretched arms prepare to “close line” the joyous man. I think to myself, Mark looks like he scored on a “Hail Mary” catch. I briefly look over at Paul, and then up to Heaven. “Thank you God. I love you.”
For some reason, I feel and think He winked down at me.
Amanda runs to wrap her loving arms around me. The combination of our dust and the impact makes me think she’s trying on makeup. I smile and she smiles. I cough and she coughs, under the influence of the powder puff impact. “Awe, what the heck,” I tell her. I pick her up and spin her around, making a cyclone of dust. She just laughs, and then coughs, and then she just laughs some more. I set her down and pat the top of her head, as she stares over to see the family reunion going on. I tell her, “Good job girly.” We both watch as Mark tries to get up, but he is immediately tackled all over again. Part of me must have somehow rubbed off on Amanda in the impact as she cynically comments, “You mean we weren’t invited?” I tell her, “Well, you aren’t dressed for the occasion anyways.” I want to tell her about Jimmy, but decide instead to tell her, “I have a present to give you later.”
Doug swings around from behind Amanda with his outstretched arm, beckoning with a welcoming hand shake. I time my assault, and stick out my hand at the exact correct moment to join his. I stop him with my shaking arm, and tell him, “Hi Doug, glad you could join us.” He tips his green ball cap up while saying, “The feeling’s mutual.” We all reflect in our huddle as we watch the
tender “family moment” going on below us. The other two teams connect and greet each other as they meet at the far end of the building.
A flood of “well wishers” come out of the building and offer their assistance to the arriving parties. My eyes run the length of the building looking for signs of damage before I’m overtaken by the approaching crowd. I don’t see one crack or one block moved out of place. I know I’m looking at the miraculous, and feeling the Almighty’s presence. Ken yells down from on top the building, “Welcome home Joey!” I wave back while waiting for the rest of the returning tribes.
Dave and Randy are the next set to reach my welcoming embrace. Dave tells me, “You won’t believe all that has happened to us the last three days.” Randy just nods his head in agreement to Dave’s comment. I reply, “I want to hear all about it, but it will have to wait till later.” Right behind them is Scotty and Moses, and several other new members they must have rescued. I shake hands and invite them all to go inside while passing them off to the “welcoming committee.” I pat each passing back while offering my rotating handshake. I tell the passing precession, “Just ignore the dust,” I’m creating with every up and down shake of my arm.
My eyes drift back to Mark as he herds his flock my way. As he approaches, he introduces each of his family members. He requests, “Me and my family all want to know more about God.” I wave Paul over while stating, “This is the man that can help instruct you best. He will show you how to have an eternal relationship with our creator.” Paul whisks them away to the security of the inside. I hear him offer the family a meal and a chance to clean up first. They feel the holy urgency to take care of business first as Mark asks Paul, “How can we be saved?” I give Paul the “thumbs up” as they turn the corner and head inside. Paul returns the sign with his added smile of approval right before disappearing through the building’s entrance-way. Both of us know we are adding four more soldiers of Christ to our army, and four more eternal family members to God’s eternal treasure chest.
I now stand alone outside and reflect on all that has happened these last several years; especially these last days. My mind remembers that kitchen hutch with those piles of broken pieces. Each pile was a special someone, a special memory, and a very special time. I use to tell my niece when she was growing up, “I can fix anything; except broken hearts. Only God can fix them.” Now, I don’t even try. I just consider myself the oarsman that steers the lost towards “The Star of The Morning.” For, this is my mission, and this is my new life.
Hell is coming on earth as the “clock of last chances” ticks down. I feel the finger of God ready to break another seal that’s holding back the terror of wrath. I can hear the swirling bowls of judgments’ that are ready to spill over their sides.
I am not scared anymore, because I am not alone. I have His promise that I will take with me; and I will bring the message of the cross across this desert to those desolate. I feel fully satisfied in this moment, even though I face perilous times ahead of me. But, in this moment, “All the world is right!”
This is not the end!
PS: I once heard this story of an elderly Christian lady asking her pastor to honor her last request. “When my time comes, I want to be buried with a fork in my hand.” The pastor scratched his head, chuckled, and then asked “Why the heck would you want that to be everyone’s last memory of you?” She replied, “You see; in the last sixty years I have never missed a ‘potluck’ church social diner. At every one of them someone would come yelling out of the kitchen right before we’d finish eating the main course, ‘Hold on to your fork, because the best is yet to come’!”
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