A Abba's Apocalypse (28 page)

              “Fellows, I need to go wash up, and then get some sleep.” My announcement briefly interrupts their continuing conversation as stand up to leave. “Oh, glad to see you made it back okay!” Dave yells at a distance. I wave my salutation back to him as I venture off for some much needed “shut eye.”

              I feel like I just fell asleep when I hear a friendly voice waking me. She gently slides her fingernails over the undershirt on my back. “Come on Mr. Story teller. It’s time to get up.” I turn over slowly while stretching the sleepiness from my weary bones. I manage to squeeze out between my yawns, “Well, hello stranger.” I see Tiffany sitting on the edge on my cot patiently smiling. I wonder how long I’ve been asleep as I rip open my watch cover. She informs me I’ve been out for eight hours plus. My watch confirms it by showing me it is 9:45 pm. “Did you get some rest?” I ask. “Not as much as you, but I’m fine.” I force myself to sit up and spin to the side of my cot. “Did the ladies take care of you?” I see her hair looks clean and brushed. She also smells pleasant. “Yeah, I made a lot of new friends. I really like Katie though. She helped me set up my own private living area and decorate it.” Tiffany seems excited and happy. She invites me to come “check it out,” as she grabs and pulls me up. I’m in no mood to refuse the young lady.

              Tiffany’s holding hand is leading me to the area called

the “Singles Quarter.” It is sectioned off with walls of anything the women could find and join together. As we approach Tiffany’s cubical I see its walls are a combination of old boxes, wooden pallets, and several pieces of worn and torn carpet. She pulls me into her private section, looking at me to see my reaction. I immediately notice her improvised dresser displaying most of her neatly folded items. She points to it and explains what each compartment of the stacked milk creates are for. Next to her bed is a nightstand made of boxes. It holds just two items. One is her hairbrush. The other is a picture of her father. She gives me a funny look as I bend to get a closer look at his picture. I compliment her on her living arrangement and then tell her, “I expect you to keep this place neat young lady.” She doesn’t say a word; she rather wraps her arms around me and squeezes me tightly instead. “Thank you Joey. I will.” I see on her cot a small plush animal. I bend down for a closer look at the creature while Tiffany states, “His name is Joey Junior. A lady named Amanda gave him to me.” She grabs the dirty critter and cuddles it in her rocking arms. I ask her if we can sit and talk for a few minutes. I turn and sit while patting the top of her cot with my inviting hand. She turns and joins me.

              “I have a little present for you Tiffany.” I hand her my spare tiny “New Testament Bible.” She tenderly retrieves the book from me and immediately notices the fresh smell of the paper pages. I ask her if she knows why it smells so sweet. I inform her it’s because the pages contain God’s breath. She tilts her head cockeyed wondering what I mean. I ask her what she knows about Jesus and a place called Heaven. What she tells me saddens me. She believes it’s a place where good people go when they die. This is what her father told her. I am afraid to inform her that daddy was wrong, but I have to give her the true message.

              “Honey, would you let me see your Bible?” She hands it to me as I fumble through the pages to “Ephesians” 2:8.

I ask her what she thinks good is. “I don’t know. I guess if I do

more good things than bad things in my life then I’m good.” I try to explain how God is perfect and requires us to be perfect. “No one is perfect!” she abruptly commands. I figure I hit a nerve that is causing her to realize where her father maybe. I comfort her with a hug and the words, “Honey, you’re right. None of us are. We can never be good enough for our perfect creator God. We can never do enough good things to please God. He requires perfection. He requires holiness. He regards our good works to be like filthy rags in value to Him.” My heart sinks as I watch all her new found joy turning into a sea of tears. “What are you saying Joey? We’re all going to Hell!” I increase my grip of comfort. “No honey, not at all! There is a way to get to Heaven. There is a perfect way to get there.”

              I proceed to read the passage that explains the way to gain God’s perfection. It is the message of grace through faith, and not by anything we do. I explain, “God cannot be in the presences of sin. Anything that we’ve ever done wrong in our lives is called sin. It separates us from a relationship with God. Even if it is just one tiny “white lie” in our whole life we are covered in sin. But, God loves us so much that He decided to pay the penalty for every one of our sins. The only way to remove sin is with the blood of a perfect sinless sacrifice.” I go on to explain how the son of God named Jesus loves each one of us so much that He was willing to pay the price and conquered the eternal separation from God. He is the only one able to meet the perfect requirements established by God. His terrible crucifixion and wonderful resurrection are the final acts in conquering sin. I finish by explaining that “God’s perfect justice was served through the sacrifice of Jesus.”

              “Would you like Jesus to give you redemption? If you truly want salvation you just have to believe his promise, and ask Him to come into your heart.” I tell her to repeat after me. “Jesus, I am sorry for my sins. Please forgive me. Will you come live in me forever and ever? I want a special relationship with you and to live with you forever in eternity.”She repeats those heartfelt words humbly and asks, “What’s next?” I give

her a big hug and say, “Listen to Him by reading His word called the ‘Holy Bible’. This will instruct and guide you in your relationship with Him. It’s not what you do from now on, but whom you trust in. This is called faith.” She stares with such surprise in her eyes. “Is that it?” I just nod and smile, “Yes.” I watch her face as she feels His Holy Spirit filling the void that once filled her empty heart and life. “Welcome Tiffany. You are now what most would call a Christian, or a Christ follower.” She smiles at me through the simplicity of it all. I realize this one act of faith answers those questions we all seek: where do we come from, why am I here, what is my purpose, and is there anything more. The inherent nagging of our hearts seeking answers to these epic questions disappears with the only answer that really matters. “Yes Tiffany, you are now saved for Jesus Christ, because you put your faith in what He did! Heaven will be our eternal home.”

              I kiss her forehead and tell her not to worry about trying to understand everything that just happened. “Just remember to always have faith that God now lives inside you. He loves you. Even if you mess up he is faithful to forgive you. He will not condemn you, but rather convict you to repent.” I suggest that she start reading in the first gospel of “Matthew.” I inform her that this book will show her the life of Jesus and the message of the cross. I leave her with a, “Goodnight honey,” while watching her curiosity to learn about Jesus take over. I smile with joy and fulfillment as I depart. I take with me the feeling that this is one of those perfect moments.

              I stop by my area and grab some stuff from inside my rucksack, and then head out to the dining area. I empty the bag of chalk on a spread out plastic bag I placed on the table. I proceed to crush the chalk into a fine powder. I hear Dave approaching asking if I might want a cup of coffee. This is immediately followed by “What cha do’n?” I tell Dave “Yeah please, I’ll take a cup.” Which I follow it up with: “I’m making

medicine.” After pulverizing the chalk I proceed to dump

the bag of active carbon that I collected from the school’s air conditioning filters. I slightly crush this and swirl both ingredients together. I ask Dave if there is any water nearby. He quickly brings my coffee and a tin soup can of water. “Perfect” I reply. I add a pinch of rock salt to the mixture and separate half of it by scraping it back into the bag. The other half I slowly add water to, creating a gray paste. I swirl it around mixing it into a slurry substance. Dave leans over my right shoulder observing, while taking mental notes in my science experience. I section off teaspoon size amounts, forming individual squares. Then, each square is split down the middle. I reply to Dave as Randy approaches, “Done!” I reiterate, “Well, at least till it dries and hardens.” Dave asks me, “How is this medicine?” I explain how carbon’s amazing absorption properties removes gases and poisonous chemicals. “The chalk and salt also help neutralize adverse affects, but are mainly to hold this fabrication together. This is great for helping to relieve diarrhea, and many other types of digestive track illnesses. It is also great for absorbing ingested poisons. One last thing, it’s good for filtering chemicals, gases, and biological substances from things like water.” I hear the “ease dropper” Randy reply with, “Wow!” Dave asks, “Where does active carbon come from?” I tell him, “It’s basically charcoal formed by heating wood or other organic

compounds. Coconut shells and hardwoods work best.” I warn the guys to let this stuff sit untouched overnight. I tell them I’ll collect it in the morning. I ask the guys where Pastor Paul is. Randy instructs me he is on the roof pulling “watchman” duty. I grab another cup of coffee and refill mine before heading up to visit Paul.

              I carefully ascend up the ladder straddling it with using my right hand, while my left balances the jiggling cups of coffee. I make it up through the hatchway while staring at the perfect night sky looming way over top of me. As I peer through this portal, I notice the stars seem extra crisp and

sparkly tonight. I make it onto the roof and see the pastor

leaning slightly over the side of the building. He is staring off towards the distant northern sky. I quietly approach him, trying not to startle him. As I approach his position, I whisper, “Paul, it me Joey.” He jolts his head around and sees the dark cups steaming between us. I hold his out to propose he take the gift. He smiles and obliges my offering. I scurry alongside and turn to share with him the star filled sky, my coffee, and my thoughts. We just wonder for a moment at this awesome spectacle of God’s amazing creation.

              Paul continues staring as he comments, “It’s hard to believe there are Angels surrounding us at this very moment.” I lift my cup in a salute to thank the invisible warriors. Paul nods his head up and down and says, “Thank you God.” The cold moisture begins to set in as I feel the tingle tickle my neck. I shake with an unintentional shiver while sounding an unequivocal “Brrr.” My sympathy requests that I know how much more time he has to stay up here. Paul informs me till 1:00 am. I check my watch and see he still has another 45 minutes before his relief comes. He seems dressed warmly enough; as the cold air reminds me that I’m not. I decide to quickly discuss some important topics on my mind before I freeze and catch a “cold.”

              Paul beats me to the punch and states, “I talked with Tiffany, and it seems she has very high regards for you. She

told me all about your excursion, and her life story.” I slowly nod my sincere affirmation. I explain the need to step up my pace in finding Irreverent. “I know there are more out there like Tiffany.” I remind Paul that the plagues are coming. Also, the water supply is becoming poisoned, and “Trinity” is escalating its deception. He replies, “I know.” He reminds me that the Bible predicted all these things would happen. I stand as he tells me more about future events that are still pending. I take mental notes and realize I have so much more to do before the situation becomes too impossible. These things beginning to happen now are just a shadow of God’s wrath still to come. We embrace in a shared prayer of conviction,

divine guidance, and the faith to do His will. We turn back to star staring and find solace in sharing the big beautiful night sky. Paul bends down and retrieves a small blanket just in case he got too chilly. He hands it to me, and we spend his remaining time just gazing and wondering.

              I wake early to retrieve my homemade medication before the morning crowd moves into the dining area. I retrieve some MRE wrappers I find in the dining area trash can. This stuff will work great in protecting my carbon medication. I find each untouched section on the table, seeing it has dried and harden perfectly. I take the individual pieces, pairing and wrapping them together in their own individual foil. I proceed to bundle it together using a thin slice of wire to secure the wrapper by twisting it tight. I place each packet it in the small plastic bag it originally came from. I conclude by determining I’ve made enough for sixteen doses. “Just in time,” I tell myself, as I hear the rumble of the waking crowd. I return to my area and stash the medicine in my rucksack. This way I’ll be able to bring it with me on future missions. The remaining powder mixture I decide to leave here. I make a note to brief Tiffany, who is the best candidate for medical officer, on how and when to use it. She’ll need to know this before I take off on my next mission. I smell the fresh aroma of coffee and head back over to the dining area for a chance at the first cup of the morning.

              I see Randy leaning over to take a whiff of the large brewing pot. He slowly and cautiously stirs it with his homemade ladle, so not to kick-up the coffee grounds lying along the bottom of his large pot. I venture close enough to remark, “I see Dave must have elevated you to this honorable position.” Randy says nothing in response. He just smiles and

stirs while taking a deep sucking breath through his nose. I see Dave appear, as he returns upright from his hidden bent over position. He asks, “Have you seen the ‘Powdered Eggs’ bag?” Randy shrugs his shoulders informing Dave that it’s

probably where he left it last. Dave is not real happy with his

wise comment.

              I feel a strong hand come from behind me and squeeze my shoulder. It is followed with “How’s my buddy doing?” I turn my head and see the owner of the large pawl come into sight. “Moses! A ‘God’ morning to you too!” Our morning salutation is interrupted by Paul inviting the congregation to an early morning meeting right after breakfast. I have a feeling I know what he’s going to announce. I hurry to drink my coffee while observing the alarmed faces reacting to the urgency of this meeting. Everyone clamors to guess what it will be about as they conjure around the dining area. I proudly gaze at Dave and compliment him on handling the prevailing pressure so well. He nods his head and hurries to finish making breakfast. He flips his scrambled egg creation and says, “Thanks buddy.”