A Abba's Apocalypse (31 page)

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Authors: Charles E. Butler

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the intersection and hurdle several pothole size craters along the way. I stay to the left side of the street to shorten the angle of my approaching left turn. I prepare to turn left and drop the remaining “caltrops” right before the intersection. The inertia causes their tingle to spread evenly across the entrance to the intersection.              

              I detect at least two sets of tramping feet still chasing me. Grinding rock and the sharp pitch ting of the metal scratches the pavement a half a block behind me. A deep voice curses at me as I finish my intersection left turn. These evil things seem to be immune to pain, as they persist in stomping along with one inch of the “caltrops” stuck in their feet. I can tell now they are rounding the alleyway on to the street by the skating sound of the metal skidding on the asphalt. I suddenly hear wood slats snapping sounding, as if one LD ran through a fence. I assume it failed to negotiate the alleyway turn onto the street. I hear loud agonizing groans, confirming there is now only one chasing me.

              The last beast is truly possessed, and furious! The thrashing sounds of its loud steps quicken, along with its cursing. The menace shifts gears from metallic jingle to the crushing of pavement under its feet. I know what it is doing. It’s a wounded soldier’s trick. It is using its pain and anger to fuel its feet. It speeds up chewing up chunks of the asphalt, that each of its steps spit out, sliding them across the roadway. Futility and exhaustion finally sets in. I can no longer run. I gasp and hear the approaching words, “I got you now!” 

              My momentum carries my outstretched body flying forward, as the Demon grips me, and then anchors me. “I’m going to enjoy tearing you to pieces,” it spitefully snarls. It twist the center of my back, bunching my jacket in its death grip. It squeezes and chokes all the air right out of me.

My eyes feel like they’re bulging out of their sockets. The evil thing lifts me with one arm off the ground and asks, “Where is your cursed God now?” I cry out in all desperation the holy name, “Jesus!” It laughs hideously at the pain God’s name

causes it. I feel it bend slightly, absorbing the blow, and then it punches me back, right in the kidney. This shot to my body is so violent, I instantly vomit and choke. I feel it lifting me up higher, while tilting me back; as to show me captive towards Heaven. The putrid runs down my cheeks, as I continue choking. It shakes me sadistically and yells toward the midday Sun, “You stole Heaven and gave me Hell. I’ll steal this soul and give you Hell!”

              I feel the sword of the word enable me. A great peace takes over me, shoving out the pain of doubt. I hear the sound of a speeding freight train barreling down right at me. “Behold, I am the Lord, the God of all flesh: is there anything too hard for me?” A bright blast of holy power explodes and blows me and the Demon off his feet. The evil loosens its grip as I fall on top its trembling body. It screams in anguish, “Get off me!” It frantically and tremendously pushes at me, but it cannot budge me. I pray the one word weapon of choice, “Jesus!” The weight of His holy name shoves me effortlessly downwards. The horrible breath of the beast is thrust out, as my benevolent weight squishes it. Its rugged structure slowly snaps, piece by piece, under the power of my words. I yell the holy name again, “Jesus!” Again, I am shoved downward. The body below me balloons out, and then burst into oblivion. I feel the evil spirit shatter the enslaving body, and then flee into the security of outer darkness; where damned souls go.

              Both joy and sorry come over me while lying motionless on its remains. I lift myself off and thank my God for this victory, but I am reminded of His great compassion. The thought enters me that two of His eternal creations are forever lost. In this knowledge I too weep bitterly.

              The energy lingers in me as I stand. I feel the holy adrenalin still at work. I turn to head back and help Paul, but I see two approaching bodies a half block away. They look at me strangely, as their faces fill with wonderment. I watch patiently as the dirty ragged pair cautiously steps nearer. I sense they are scared, but they are being drawn to me. The

puzzled look on the thin lady’s face turns innocently into a childlike smile, while the thin man’s face turns grimmest. I smile at these Irreverent souls for their bravery.

              The first words out of her mouth astonish me. She giggles, “Why are you glowing?”  I kindly reply, “I am not aware that I’m glowing.” She reminds me that I am, while she tries touching what she perceives to be my aura. “It tingles,” she tells me, while she continues to prick at several spots on my arm. The stern gentleman instructs her, “Lucy, you’re loony!” I have many questions, but I feel the Holy presences telling me to be still. I believe God is working in my silence. She gazes firmly into my eyes and asks, “Are you God?” My spirit causes me to laugh and speak, “No dear, but I do know Him.” The man inserts his opinion, “You’re both crazy.” A soft quiet voice fills me with the realization that misery has softened her heart, but has hardened his.

              I ask them, “Why would you risk coming to me out here in the open?” The angry man commands, “We saw what you did to that mad man, and we want to know how you did it!” Lucy interrupts me, as I prepare to answer him, “Because, he’s an Angel.” Her innocence continues to overwhelm me, and my thoughts. I laugh and inform her, “No, I’m not an Angel either, Lucy. But, I do have a message from God.” The man warns me, “Stop filling my wife’s head with that garbage!”

              I ask the pair to follow me to a more secure place to discuss the matter. Lucy seems excited to follow, but her husband is determined to get his answer. I tell him, “It was the power of Jesus that destroyed the evil man. I just have faith in His word.” Lucy shakes her head leisurely side to side in awe, to hear there is a greater power at work.  I see tears of hope swell up in her eyes, as his turn angry and red. “You’re crazy! The whole world is crazy!” he proclaims. He grabs Lucy’s arm to pull her away, but she wrestles his grasp free. “I want to hear more,” she cries. He turns, and tugs at her again. At once, I project my protecting arm between them. I stare

into his eyes and sternly warn him that he is wrestling this

very moment with the very Spirit of God. Fear replaces his anger, as he ceases battling me. He turns his back on me, and then slides his loose hand along Lucy’s arm while walking away. His rejected spirit pitifully announces to Lucy, “If you’re coming, come on.” Lucy cries to him, “Henry!” I reach in my back pocket and hand her a small New Testament Bible. The immediate joy on her face turns urgently back to the misery she is facing. I whisper to her as she battles between the message I have, and her love for her husband. “Go, Jesus loves you.” I smile at her as she runs after Henry. Her tattered clothing streams behind her that arouses a childhood memory of the streamers I had on my bicycle. I watch sweet Lucy run after her Henry as she clutches the tiny treasure pressing against her heart.

              I feel powerless to move until they disappear back into the piles of debris. I remain in continual prayer that God will reveal himself in both their lives. I knew there was a reason

I felt led to underline certain passages in that Bible last night. I’ve given her little messages of hope, love, faith, and salvation. I also drew a map leading to “Project Hope” on the very last page. I pray they heed the message of the cross.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 13: Great Signs and Wonders

 

              I begin my journey back to Paul via the street way. I don’t want to chance facing the fallen LD I left behind near this end of the alley. That’s if they are even still around. I make it a half a block and hear the song of that lonely bird once more. I experience an unnerving peace as I listen to its song. For some reason I feel like it is trying to tell me something; rather than just calling to its lost mate. I stare up ahead and see it perched on top its lonely pole. I continue toward the intersection nearest Paul’s location and see it swiftly fly off.

              All of a sudden, I hear a rumble coming from everywhere. My legs tremble slightly as I stop to observe what may be causing this vibration. The noise grows as far off buildings begin crashing down. The shaking quickly intensifies, making it much harder to stand. I hurry to look for the closest unobstructed open spot to sit. All the water in my body violently gyrates, pulling me in its ebbs and flows back and forth, and up and down. Being from California, I know this is an earthquake. But, this is not like one I have ever felt before.

              I sit, and then lay back on the pavement. I extend my arms to fight the increasing waves rolling under me. Utility poles begin snapping and crashing to the ground, as the house nearest me collapses. I hear fountains of water shooting out of the ground and the smashing sound of the returning asphalt slide across the street. My hands and back begin to heat up. The frequency of the rolling, pressures the street to melt. It smells just like roof tar being poured on a hot summer’s day. I see out of the corner of my eye several suspended snapped utility poles dancing up and pounding down, over and over, pulverizing the concrete sidewalk below. More buildings around me collapse causing dusts clouds bellow up, polluting the air all around. I hear the surrounding debris piles snapping, as the immense shaking shuffles their slapping

lumber around. I fight to breath, as the oxygen around me sucks back and forth.  Snapping, crashing, rolling, and screaming reverberate from every direction. I lay disorientated and prostrate to the power of the unending event. I fight the jolting motion with my clutching hands. Jutting splinters shoot just over me into the forming fog of steam. I pray, and pray, for this to end.

              The spot where I am laying immediately ceases to move, but everything around me continues as it was. I sit up in my fascination and see a fissure forming in the street. I find myself helpless to the terror running straight at me. It looks like it will split me in half. Suddenly, it turns, and cracks the pavement, running around me. This “Angel of Death” proceeds past my position, while swallowing the middle of the street. The mouth in the earth opens its jaws wider and wider, gulping down the entire road just past me. Everything continues shaking and screaming, except right, where I am seated. It seems everything that can be shaken is shaken, and everything that can fall, has fallen. I proceed to stand in my bubble of protection and turn around to view the madness of this moment. Ironically, this murderous event is causing everything to come to life. 

              I decide to place my right foot outside my calm area into the misty misery still viciously vibrating. The bubble of protection seems to follow my foot, as the shaking immediately settles in that particular spot. My curiosity causes me to bring along the rest of my body, braving this first step into this mayhem. The surrounding chaos turns to clarity and calmness. I clasp my hands and thank my God for His holy presence that goes before me. I step again, and again, with the same results. I hear the roadway give way where I laid a few seconds before. The large chunk falls like a great glacier breaking off, falling into the lava ocean below. Residual pieces of the street follow. They skate down the crevasse, shattering towards the fire inside. I turn back to look and hear the belly of the beast explode, spewing out a fountain of red hot liquid.

I run away wishing not to test my supernatural protection.

              I can see about twenty feet fairly accurately. Everything past that point is an indistinguishable moving mess. I try and make my way back to meet Paul. I become aware this must be the longest earthquake the world has ever seen. It’s been at least five minutes since the quake started. I fearfully step on a mosaic web of cracks that settle under my feet. I watch the surrounding debris, chewing more debris into smaller and smaller pieces. Churning piles on both my sides are swirling whirlpools, sucking slats of lumber and hunks of concrete down into their middles. Dust shoots out their centers, as they shake then gobble the debris down inside their gnawing mouths. Liquefaction ponds spring up and fill the lowest areas surrounding these monsters. They drown all the floating debris trying to escape. I journey along, wondering if this is the end of this world, realizing the only thing left is to pray my brothers and sisters are alright; especially Paul.

              I finally make it to the double door storm cellar. It is no longer hidden by the dead bushes, but is now covered with a fine film of dancing saw dust, instead. I grab hold of the doors and pull on them, only to find Paul must have locked them. I pound the doors with the sides of my fists, but can barely hear the loud drumming sound I know my fists must be making. The rumble of the quaking and the noise of the moving debris are much louder than the pounding on the steel doors. “Come on Paul, come on and open these doors!”I see them slowly begin to open and say, “Thank you Jesus.” I instantly notice Paul’s awestruck facial expression to what’s going on. I am surprised that he seems surprised. I watch his mouth form a, “What?” as his response to this trembling revelation. He moves down allowing me inside while his face remains frozen upwards. I hurry to scurry down to the safety of the descending steps.

              I see the man is sitting by himself on a bench in the back of this small chamber. Paul shouts, “I thought something happened to you.” I bend down to light the “Canned Heat”

container I find on the floor, as Paul hurries to secure the outer doors. As Paul descends the stairs he states, “I’ve been praying a hedge of protection around you, but I was worried about you being gone so long.” I tell Paul, and this gentleman sitting on the bench, “Thank God you’re alright.” Paul tells me, “The LD took your bait. They never came here.” I tell Paul, “I’m not talking about the LD; I’m talking about the earthquake going on.” He replies, “Is that what I saw! I thought it was a really bad storm.” I try explaining how the world is shaking apart outside, even as I speak. It seems hard to believe, sitting in the stillness of the storm cellar. I finish by stating, “It’s amazing how God is protecting us.” This realization leads Paul and me to pray, thanking God.

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