Tag: faith

BLACK SABBATH – CHAPTER 20

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

BLACK SABBATH

CHAPTER 20

INGA LIKAS (AKA INGA COGNITO)

SUBMIT TO GOD. RESIST THE DEVIL AND HE WILL FLEE FROM YOU. DRAW NEAR TO GOD AND HE WILL DRAW NEAR TO YOU. CLEANSE YOUR HANDS YOU SINNERS, AND PURIFY YOUR HEARTS YOU DOUBLE MINDED (James 4:7, 8)

            It was like being in a real live science fiction movie! The second and third plagues had fallen, and the seas and waters became blood. (Revelation 16:3, 4) Lake Superior was dark red and foamy on its banks. The smell of it along with the dead fish was gagging me. The thought of paying a visit to Jackson Bronx was making me nauseous with anxiety. I’m surprised I didn’t throw up.

            But I kept remembering Bible verses about confidence in God. Like there is no fear in love. Perfect love casts out fear. (1 John 4:18) Be still and know that I am God. (Psalm 46:10) God will keep you in perfect peace when it stays on Him. (Isaiah 26:3) For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind. (2 Timothy 1:7)

            I was with Seven and Zella LaStella-Sallie.  We were riding in their dark green Subaru Outback. I was in the back seat with Seven driving and Zella riding shotgun. My two close friends were also a comfort provided by God.

            Our trip up to the north shore of Minnesota was another element like out of a science fiction movie. For one thing, it was as if we were teleported. It seemed like we were barely on the road, and we were driving through Duluth. It should have taken us about five hours to get there, but it seemed like only minutes. The city was desolate. Like the COVID lock down times ten. The few people we did encounter eyed us skeptically.

            But just as the angel assured us, we would be protected from any angry people or mobs that blamed Sabbath keepers for the plagues. The angel also had programmed Jackson Bronx’s address into the GPS. It turned out to be a cabin several miles off of highway 61. Very remote.

            I should have felt creeped out as we got closer. Jackson Bronx was a strange, sinister boy who was almost two years older than me. He was seventeen the last time I saw him. After I tell you what happened the last time I saw him, you’ll understand why I felt anxious as his cabin came into view. But the Word of God gave me courage to go forward.

            Not quite a decade previous, he had crept into my room at midnight. I awoke to a hand over my mouth and a knife blade’s tip an inch from my eye. A full moon’s light shone in through the window and  his dark eyes glazed crazily into mine. Yet his bizarre actions supposedly came as a warning rather than a threat.

            “Uncle Bronx thinks you’re pretty bright blue eyes are magical,” he had whispered. “He intends to make you his wife…. Do you want me to gouge them out? Ouch! Why’d you bite my hand?”

            I wanted to say, ‘what do think you, idiot?’ But that wouldn’t be wise to ask that of an evil person while they held a knife to your face. So I said, “I have allergies. I can’t breathe through my nose.”

            My heart felt like it was going to pound out of my chest as I prepared to be slashed. But he sat back on his haunches and spoke patiently as he lifted his hand toward the window and the moon’s light to check it over. “I can’t believe you bit me.”

            “I can’t believe you snuck into my room and threatened me!” I replied but then realized I shouldn’t have been surprised. There was a reason I kept my distance from him as much as possible.

            “I didn’t sneak into your room to threaten you. I came into your room to warn you. Maybe you should lock your door.”

            “There are no locks on the doors,” I told him. Then I almost called this place what it was, a cult. But I didn’t know just how close Jackson was to the cult leader, his Uncle Bryson. So I said, “At this compound.”

            “Put a chair under the doorknob,” he said, pointing at a chair under a desk.

            “It has wheels.”

            “Well, get creative then. Hang bells on the door or something.”

            “That still won’t keep creeps like you out,” I blurted, and instantly tensed. I guess diarrhea of the mouth began early for me. I wonder when it started for Seven?

            But he didn’t seem to mind. He shrugged and said, “But it would warn you when a creep like me comes in.”

            “Do you think you’re a creep?” I asked mildly. Then I tensed again. Why did my mouth tend to speak before the rational part of my brain gave it permission to?

            “No, but you apparently do.”

            “Can you blame me? You’re always wearing black with dark satanic imagery.”

            His eyes suddenly looked crazed in the moonlight, and he pointed his index fingers up from his forehead like devil horns. Then he gave a ghoulish grin. No, more like a silly grin. He waggled his tongue and went, “Aaaaah.”

            I don’t know why, but this made me want to laugh, but I held it in. So then it came out as a burst when I couldn’t hold it any more. It was along the lines of not supposed to laugh making something seem funnier.

            “I like you, Inga,” he said softly and ran a finger gently against my cheek.

            I was stunned. I’d never seen Jackson be anything but dark and brooding. It took me off guard, first by him acting silly and now acting sweet. The truth is, I always thought he was cute. But the evil persona he took on turned me off. So instead of saying I liked him too, I asked, “Why are you into devil stuff.”

            “I’m not,” he shrugged.

            “Yeah? Could have fooled me. Actually you’re not fooling me. You don’t just accidently wear inverted crosses and pentagrams, listen to death metal music, sneak into girls rooms at midnight, and put knives to their face.”

            “In my defense, you’re the only girl I’ve ever snuck in on and done that.”

            “Well, how special for me,” I mocked, tilting my head. Then I frowned. He had in fact just awakened me with a knife practically in my eye, yet I wasn’t afraid anymore. But never trust a devil, they will be charming one second and diabolical the next.

            “Like I said, I came to warn you, not harm you.”

            “So why the knife to the face?
            “I didn’t want you to freak out.”

            “Didn’t want me to freak out! You’ve got to be kidding!”

            He shook his head and waved his hands. “I wanted to make sure you kept silent. If I would have simply shaken you awake, you might have screamed.”

            “No might have about it,” I admitted.

            We gazed at each other in the moonlight for several long seconds. Then he said, “Well, you’ve been warned. I better go.”

            Strangely, I didn’t want him to go. He had been sitting on the side of my bed and arose. I had been sitting up in my bed at that point and grabbed his hand. “Let’s talk some more.”

            “Ouch,” he responded, pulling his hand away from mine. But then he sat back down on the side of my bed. “I still can’t believe you bit me.”

            “Sorry,” I said and then frowned. Why was I apologizing? He’s the one that snuck into my room, put a knife to my face and hand over my mouth. My reaction was just instinctive, self-protective.

            “I ought to bite you,” he said with a coy smile.

            He suddenly pulled me to himself and nibbled on my neck. It tickled, so I giggled, but I pushed away from him. Then he grabbed me by the shoulders, yanked me back toward him, and kissed me. The weird thing was, I kissed him back even as I halfheartedly tried to push away.

            It’s strange how the mind works. This duel nature in us humans. There’s part of the mind that draws us to wrong things, also known as sin. Then there’s this other part of the mind that tells us to do what is right, also known as the conscience. It is here, I believe, where we either cooperate or ignore the working of the Holy Spirit. Even back then, when I wasn’t a follower of Jesus, I felt this struggle within me.

            I think the Apostle Paul explains this struggle very well in Romans chapter seven. But that evening with Jackson kissing me in my bed at midnight, with me wearing nothing but a little nightgown, a garment that was really only a big t-shirt? For that I will boil Romans chapter seven down to verses 23-25.

            ‘I see another law in my members, warring against the law of my mind, and bringing me into captivity to the law of sin which is in my members. Oh wretched person that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? I thank God through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then with the mind I myself serve the law of God. But with the flesh, the law of sin.’

            But I knew very little about Jesus or the Bible back then. So the law of the flesh was ruling over the law of my mind as Jackson kissed me. Something inside me said, no this isn’t right, get away. Where did that instinct come from? Yet another part of me said, this feels good, put your arm around his neck. So I did, and carnal passion smothered out good sense and reason.

            But there were a couple moments of conscience and reason fighting for air. After several minutes of kissing like they do in France, Jackson lifted my night gown. I yanked it back down. “No!”

            “I like your feistiness,” he said with a laugh, trying again with me rejecting again.

            Then this typically brooding, scowling young man, not only smiled, but laughed. This disarmed me even further. But then he began to arm me back up by saying. “Uncle Bryson wants you as a virgin bride as soon as you turn sixteen. We can eliminate half of the equation of virgin bride right now.”

            Fear erased the passion I was feeling, and I rolled away from him. “No! You better leave right now!”

            “Okay, suit yourself, Inga,” he said mildly. He actually got up and walked to the door as if to leave. But he stopped, turned, and said, “I must say, it hurts that you would rather have a guy almost old enough to be your grandfather rather than me. But, like I said, suit yourself.”

            “Like I have choice? If he finds I’m not a virgin, he will likely kill me.”

            “Not if I tell him you’re my girlfriend.”

            “Do that and he’ll kill you too.”

            Jackson snorted. “Oh, lovely Inga, you know so little. Uncle Bryson acts like he’s superman, but my brothers and me are his kryptonite.”

            He didn’t explain why he and his brothers were like kryptonite, that I found out later. But I was an infatuated teenage girl and foremost on my mind was, ‘he called me lovely!’ Me, a gangly girl making her way out of puberty. Did he also say girlfriend? That had a ring of permanence.

            But Jackson was dark, sinister and not to be trusted. However, that night he was sweet and charming. Can leopard a change his spots? No, but maybe I could change him. How many millions of women got into a mess thinking that?                                                                                      I hopped out of my bed and went to him. “You really want me to be your girlfriend?”

            “I do,” he said gently, caressing my cheek with his finger again. Like the foolish girl I was, I whimpered and we started kissing again.

            Back to the current situation. I heard Zella say, “You’re awfully quiet, Inga. Penny for your thoughts.”

            “Huh?” I replied, a little rattled. My little trip down memory lane was getting more bumpy by the mile, or I guess I should say minute.

            “You seemed to be deep in thought,” she added.

            “Yeah, I guess so,” I said and then paused, considering my very dear friends in the front seat. ‘Confess your trespasses to one to another’ came to mind. (James 5:16) “You know how I told you I ran away from that cult in California when I was sixteen.”

            “Sure I do.”

            “What I left out was that I was pregnant… By Jackson Bronx.”

BLACK SABBATH – CHAPTER 19

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

BLACK SABBATH

CHAPTER 19

INGA LIKAS (AKA INGA COGNITO)

THEN I, JOHN, SAW THE HOLY CITY, NEW JERUSALEM, COMING DOWN OUT OF HEAVEN FROM GOD (Revelation 21:2)

            Sevenia Sallie and I were both pumped with positive adrenaline. Yet as we anticipated a supernatural encounter, possibly even meeting an angelic being, we had butterflies flittering in our midsections. The young woman I walked along beside voiced my own concern. “Inga, I feel unworthy for what we may encounter.”

            The positive adrenaline flipped to a negative panic attack. The flitter of happy butterflies turned to a flutter of angry bats. I stopped dead in my tracks. Sevenia Sallie, who as a teenager was known as the girl prophetess felt unworthy? How much more a woman who had thus far spent most of her adult life as a homeless vagabond feel? A woman who several months ago had been arrested for shoplifting.

            Sevenia took two more steps without me by her side. Then she turned and took a step back toward me. Her Emerald eyes were wide and expressive. “Inga, what’s wrong?”

            “If you feel unworthy, then I have no business proceeding to our destination. You better go without me.”

            “Inga, remember what Captain Kirk told us? If we follow the Holy Spirit’s lead, we will be blessed. If not, well?”

            “You know my background Sevenia. I was thief, a liar, a…”

            “Did you hear what you said?” she interrupted with a gentle smile. “You was. Hand me your Bible.”

            She put out an open palm. I pulled the small New Testament from the pocket of my blue flannel shirt. I meekly asked, “What for?”

            She opened it to first Corinthians chapter six and read some verses describing different manners of sin. Then her almond shaped green eyes looked into my round arctic blues as she read verse eleven. “Such WERE some of you. But you were washed, you were sanctified, but you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus and by the Spirit of our God.”

            This is why fellowship is so important. The Bible instructs us to exhort one another daily. (Hebrews 3:13) Sevenia’s encouragement chased away the devil’s discouragement. Like the song, I turned my eyes upon Jesus and looked full in His wonderful face. I felt the comfort of the Comforter ooze into me. The precious gift of the Holy Spirit that Jesus also called the Helper in John chapter fourteen.

            “Thanks for that,” I told Sevenia.

            “Just doing what you’ve been doing for countless others,” she said with a grin. I had thought the song ‘Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus,’ but now Sevenia began to sing it. I joined her and when our choir of two finished, we hugged. Then we proceeded to the two hundred year old oak tree behind the big, faded red barn.

            Brock Storm had tied a bench swing to a thick limb that jutted out horizontally from the large tree. The limb was about as large as a full grown tree itself. Sevenia and I watched the beautiful multicolored sunset as we sat side by side. As talented as many artists are, nothing can match the living art from God’s orderly Creation.

            This was a special sunset, set apart from the previous six that week. For this sunset signified the beginning of the Sabbath, representing the rest God Himself took after Creation. (Genesis 2:2, 3) Then He commanded us to do the same every week in Exodus 20:8-11 and  Deuteronomy 5:12-15.

            Sevenia led us in a prayer, thanking our Lord for the Sabbath as the big orange ball slipped beneath the horizon that Friday evening. For we believed the Biblical Sabbath was from sundown Friday until sundown Saturday. (See Genesis 1:19, 23, 31)

            Many had called us legalists, especially those who were angriest as the seven last plagues fell. But were we who kept the commandments of God and the faith of Jesus legalists? (Revelation 14:12). I should say not! Were we saved because we kept the law? No, we kept the law BECAUSE we were saved. We didn’t keep the law TO be saved.  

            It’s called righteousness by faith. In other words, we are saved by grace through faith, it is a gift from God, and not by our works (Ephesians 2:8, 9). However, in Romans 6:1 the Apostle Paul asks if we continue to sin because we are saved by grace. In verse two he answers his own question. Certainly not!

            So why do we who are saved keep the commandments, the one part of the Bible God wrote Himself with His own finger? Jesus put it as simply as He possibly could in John 14:15. “If you love Me, keep My commandments.” And when you spend time with Jesus, examine and contemplate His life through study and prayer, you tend to fall in love with Him.

            The interesting thing is the only one of the ten commandments that mainstream Christianity seemed to have a problem with is the fourth. Maybe that’s why God allowed it to be the test of love and loyalty. He says in Jeremiah 17:10 that He searches the heart and tests the mind.

            The other interesting thing to consider is why exactly did Satan seek to change this aspect of the law of God. Quite simply because it was the one commandment that recognizes God as Creator. Isaiah chapter fourteen tells of the fall of Lucifer, who would become Satan. He declared in verse fourteen that he wanted to be like the Most High.

            So the seal of God or the mark of the beast came down to the Sabbath of the Bible verses the sabbath made popular by the Roman Empire, Sunday. Mankind, through religious and political leaders, would attempt to change the Bible Sabbath, that element of time, which is also part of the law (Daniel 7:25).

            Because of this, Sunday would become what most of the world would embrace as the sabbath, centuries after the Bible predicted that it would think to do this in the book of Daniel. But just because mankind declared it changed, does that make it so? God says of Himself that He does not change. (Malachi 3:6)

            If you followed the world, or the majority, you received the mark of the beast. The mark in one’s hand or forehead that allowed you to buy and sell. Was this referring to a computer chip? It played a part, but it wasn’t what the scriptures were actually warning of. The mark represents what we think, forehead, and what we do, hand.

            Thankfully Jesus called us out of the world (John 15:19). He wanted to give us the seal of God by doing so. But He doesn’t force us to follow Him. Satan does, simply by using our selfish human natures. But Christ stands at the door of the heart and knocks, politely asking for entrance. (Revelation 3:20).

            So the majority of the religious world had blamed us Sabbatarians for the seven last plagues. This was primarily due to false prophets and teachers doing miracles (Matthew 24:24). They sanctioned Sunday observance in the process. The biggest swing was when Satan himself appeared as an angel of light and deceived the vast multitudes (2 Corinthians 11:13-15). We needed to become like the noble Bereans who searched the scriptures daily (Acts 17:11).

            When Sevenia ended her prayer, we both said amen. She had a look of delightful expectancy on her face after we lifted our bowed heads. I wonder if I had the same, because when she turned her gaze upon me, the wattage of her lit up countenance only increased.

            In only a few minutes of prayer, the beauty of the setting sun had shifted colors and patterns. The sparse clouds went from an orangey lavender to a radiant hot pink. Sevenia emitted a happy sigh. “That beautiful sky sure is a welcome site.”

            “It sure is,” I replied with a strange mixture of calm excitement, wondering what we were welcoming.

            As twilight began to fade into darkness, it happened. It was as if the sun reversed itself. But it wasn’t the sun that lightened our eyesight. It was an angel, a messenger from God that took Sevenia and I off into vision. It was like the ultimate good dream. Yet we were fully awake. I think.

            Our heads tilted up, and our arms extended palms up. Our necks were powerless to move our heads down and our arms powerless to retract to our sides. But we cared not. We were completely enthralled by the vision before our minds.

            It was as if it was happening in the sky. I even wondered if our friends back at the house were seeing the same thing we were. Our guide was a bright light, the voice like a rippling stream, beautiful and melodic as it spoke. “This is a little preview of the city of God, the New Jerusalem. This is to strengthen your resolve.”

            This spectacular city, spoken of by John in the twenty-first chapter of Revelation, had been moving toward us. It had stopped as soon as our guide said, ‘little preview.’ Then our guide became a little like a realtor showing us a house. But this was the heavenly city that was described in Revelation. It was three hundred and seventy five miles on each side. Plus instead of studying every room of a house, we got quick glimpses of different aspects of the city structure, both from near and afar. Zooming in and out.

            The walls were over two hundred feet high and eighteen inches thick. They were made of solid jasper. There were twelve gates made of pearl. The main street of the city was pure gold, like transparent glass. The aforementioned foundation had twelve layers of precious stones: jasper, sapphire, chalcedony, emerald, sardonyx, sardius, chrysolite, beryl, topaz, chrysoprase, jacinth, and amethyst. It was beautiful! How often is that said about a foundation?

            The music, oh the music bringing praise to our Savior! It was like nothing ever heard on earth! We could feel the love all around us, although the images of inhabitants were vague, maybe even veiled. Then as quickly as we were whisked away in vision, we were back on the swing on the oak behind the old barn. The last remnant of twilight was giving way to the stars. It seemed time had stood still while we made this little trip. If that’s what you call it.

            Our guide had been as it were a beam of light. But now in the coming night, he took on a shadowy human form.  We could make out no features, but his voice, before heavenly, unearthly, was now that of an older man. Not unlike our beloved Pastor, Captain Kirk.

            “I suppose you are wondering why you two were giving a glimpse of what is to soon come,” he said.

            Sevenia and I, both speechless at first with awe, simply nodded. Then she said, “You said something about strengthening our resolve.”

            “Yes, okay, I will fill you in. It is really quite simple,” he told us. “You both have proven faithful and highly favored. You both have proven to be a blessing to others, especially those who have come to the truth of late, during the loud cry.

            “But many are experiencing wavering courage since the falling of the first plague. Many do not understand how they avoided the first plague. They have very limited understanding in spiritual things. But when push came to shove with mandatory worship, they simply obeyed God rather than men. When you return to the house, you will discover the second plague had fallen. The seas have become as the blood of a dead man.”

            “Oh my,” Sevenia and I said at the same time.

            “Inga, you will need to leave the safety of this refuge for a while. Are you willing?”

            “Yes.”

            The angel laughed. “I figured as much. Your mission is relatively close, Sevenia. You will be needed here to keep believers encouraged, so you will remain close by.”

            I never felt so alive in my life. I would try to run through a wall if asked. Then his next words would humble me. But strength is made perfect in weakness. (2 Corinthians 12:9).

            “You will be needed to pay a visit to one of Bryson Bronx’s nephews.”

            This was where I was humbled. At the name Bryson Bronx, the cult leader with whom I partially grew up under, I felt a wave of anxiety. I didn’t like any of Bronx’s family members, especially any of his four arrogant, entitled nephews. Was it even possible even one of them avoided the first plague? But who was I to judge? Only God knows the heart. With great apprehension I asked, “Which one?”

            I silently prayed that it wouldn’t be Jackson. It certainly couldn’t have been him. He was as dark and brooding as the other three combined, and they were all bad enough individually. But it wasn’t the Lord’s will.

            Almost apologetically he said, “Jackson Bronx.”

BLACK SABBATH – CHAPTER 18

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

BLACK SABBATH

CHAPTER 18

INGA LIKAS (AKA INGA COGNITO)

IT SHALL COME TO PASS IN THE LAST DAYS, SAYS GOD, THAT I WILL POUR OUT MY SPIRIT UPON ALL FLESH; YOUR SONS AND YOUR DAUGHTERS SHALL PROPHECY, YOUR YOUNG MEN SHALL SEE VISIONS, YOUR OLD MEN SHALL DREAM DREAMS (Acts 2:17)

            I couldn’t believe I didn’t see this one coming. Sevenia Sallie, Seven’s daughter, asked  “Do you know why my Dad’s twin brother Six is afraid of him?”

            “He is?” I frowned, recalling the two sibling’s warm embrace after Six’s arrival put the head count at the Storm’s farmhouse up to seventy.

            She tucked a strand from her shoulder length auburn hair behind her ear. Her almond -shaped green eyes looked earnest as she said, “Yeah, it’s because Seven ate nine.”

            I still didn’t get that she was joking for a few seconds. My frowned deepened. Was she talking about cousins? Because I knew that Sebastion ‘Seven’ Sallie was the youngest of seven children, and that Six and Seven were their actual middle names.

            Sevenia started giggling. I secretly fancied myself as a sharp cookie. How could I have been so dull? I once heard Seven express something a bit similar. ‘The funny thing about humility is the second you think you have, you lost it.’ I had told him this must be a regular occurrence for you.

            I think the funniest jokes are the ones that baffle me at first. So I burst out laughing after I said. “Oh, ate, not eight.”

            As I wiped a happy tear from my eye and relished the good endorphins just released in my brain, Sevenia was smiling sweetly at me. There was nothing malicious in her joke. Sevenia was right up there with the kindest, most Godly people I had ever met. There was not a mean bone in her body.

            “Thanks for that,” I said. “Nothing like a good laugh.”

            “Thank you,” Sevenia replied as she patted me on the knee. “For all you have taught me.”

            I tilted my head inquisitively. All that I taught her? She and I were roughly the same age. But I looked to her as a mentor. Her knowledge of scripture was unequaled. And I mean with not only with someone like her father, but she was right up there with Pastor Kirk Samson. He was the patriarch of Cotton Creek Cove Fellowship. He was more widely known to his parishioners as Captain Kirk, due to his decade as an Army Chaplin.

            “Actually it’s the other way around,” I smiled, giving her hand that had come to rest on my knee an affectionate squeeze.

            She shook her head. “Nobody has calmed, encouraged and exhorted like you have since the first plague fell. You’re one of the main reasons the children are behaving, well, like contented children.”

            “It’s God, not me.”

            “Right, but He’s working through you. And your humble attitude is what makes it possible.”

            “You know what your dad says about humility?”

            “I do,” she giggled, then asked. “So do you think you are humble?”

            “That’s a loaded question if ever there was one,” I laughed.

            “Haven’t you noticed that Francine practically follows you around like your shadow?”

            I smiled at the thought of Franny. She was a very shy fifteen year old who opened up to me about being bullied. Adolescence had not been kind to her. She was gangly and had pretty severe acne. So I showed her pictures of me when I was fifteen. Puberty was hostile to me as well. She and I had something else in common, unique eyes. Whereas mine were very light blue to the point of almost glowing, her eyes were violet. A color rarely seen in windows to the soul.

            “I honestly don’t mind,” I told Sevenia. “Her meekness quells my potential for being obnoxious. Especially around your dad.”

            She laughed, then rolled her eyes. “He loves exchanging good natured barbs with you. I know he looks at you like a daughter.”

            Sentiment swelled in my heart. “I guess that makes you and me sisters.”

            “We already were,” she smiled, indicating our sisterhood in Christ. Our hands were still joined, and she gave mine an affectionate squeeze. I reciprocated, and then our eyes turned to the door as a knock emanated from the old oak wood.

            Like I said, we were now seventy strong at the Storm residence. Their renovated farmhouse was very large, sporting eight bedrooms. It also had makeshift sleeping quarters in the basement, attic and living room. All these people seeking refuge here made it seem rather small, yet somehow cozy.

            I shared a room with Sevenia, Nancy Aldo, and the aforementioned Francine, who we called Franny. Sevenia’s husband Jerry was rooming with his brother Drew, who was married to Nancy. They also had to put up with Sevenia’s dad, Seven Sallie. Of course I jest by saying ‘put up with’… Well, maybe. Seven’s twin brother Six made it a foursome like our own room.

            So we assumed the knock at the door was one of our roommates. If the door was shut, we knocked in case one of the married roommates was having some private time with their husband, if you know what I mean. But low and behold, we were surprised to see the knock had come from Pastor Samson, AKA Captain Kirk.

            “Pastor, come in,” Sevenia invited.

            “Thank you, my Dear,” Captain Kirk replied as he shuffled in. The man of God was now in his nineties, and although typically spry for his age, he did have moments of appearing frail. He admitted such by joking about the oldest person recorded in the Bible. “Today I feel like Methuselah.”

            We laughed and then Sevenia asked, “To what do we owe the pleasure, Pastor?”

            With Pastor Samson’s long white beard and his reputation for impeccable character, he always reminded me of the Prophet Moses. He ambled toward a desk chair, pointed at it, and with raised eyebrows asked, “May I?”

            “Of course, of course,” Sevenia enthused.

            Captain Kirk groaned a little as he sat. The wood floor squeaked as he did so and with a chuckled he asked, “Was that my bones creaking?”

            Sevenia and I laughed again, then he asked, “How are you ladies holding up?”

            Sevenia and I glanced at each other, then looked at the Pastor and replied at the same time with the same response. “Good.”

            “Good.”

            “How about you?” I asked.

            “Fair to middling,” he replied.

            With the first of the seven last plagues falling, world chaos had ensued. So both Sevenia and I assumed the Pastor was just making rounds to check on the welfare of his flock. But he surprised us.

            “I had a vivid dream about you two as I was taking an afternoon nap today.”

            “Do tell,” I blurted. Then I wondered if it came across as flippant. I opened my mouth to utter an apology, but the Pastor spoke first.

            “I absolutely love your childlike faith, my Dear,” he told me with a chuckle. Then he became serious. “But I do not mean you are childish. Jesus admonished us to become like little children with their simple faith and humility.” (Matthew 18:1-5)

            He looked away and scratched his head. “Sure has been a long time since I was a little child though. Anyway, I had a dream about you two, but I’m not sure how to explain it.”

            “A dream or a nightmare?” I blurted again. You would think I was the daughter of Seven Sallie. But Sevenia did call us sisters.

            Captain Kirk chuckled. “Well, a dream if you follow God’s lead, or a nightmare if you don’t. But I have a good feeling about you two. Plus, it happened this afternoon, so it wouldn’t have been a nightmare in the truest sense.”

            “So what happened Pastor?” Sevenia asked.

            “Well, it was more like an instructive situation rather than anything specific happening.”

            “What do you mean?” Sevenia asked.

            “Can you two keep a secret?”

            “Wasn’t it Ben Frankin who said three people can keep a secret if two are dead,” my mouth spurted yet again. I instantly regretted it, especially given the Pastor’s age and frailty.

            But he chuckled. “It’s not that crucial of a secret. Several people already know about it. It’s just the fewer that know the better. I don’t want people thinking I’m off my rocker.”

            I stopped myself from a foot in my mouth statement, if I hadn’t already placed it there and simply asked, “Know what?”

            “I think I know,” Sevenia said. “Did you have an angelic encounter?”

            “Yes, my Dear, I did.”

            “And you’ve experienced that before?” I asked.

            “It’s complicated,” Captain Kirk replied with a frown as he began stroking his long white beard. “On a few occasions over the last twenty years, I’ve been given a message or instructions from an angel of the Lord. Whether these are actual encounters, dreams, or visions, I don’t know. What happened in my dream this afternoon was very, very real. But also very short. But the message was clear.”

            Despite his age, Pastor Samson gazed at us with the intensity of an NFL linebacker eyeing a quarterback. At the same time, Sevenia and I both said, “What is it?”

            “I don’t know.”

            Sevenia and I gazed at him dumbfounded. Then she said, “But you said the message was clear.”

            He shook his head. “No, no, we got off the same page. Let me clarify. I don’t know what your message is. My message was clear. It was to tell you two that you will be receiving a message yourselves. The purpose of me as a go between was twofold. It was so you weren’t surprised by the encounter and so you have faith in its legitimacy.”

            I felt a spike of positive adrenaline. “Are you saying Sevenia and I are going to have an angelic encounter?”

            “Either that or you will be given a vision. You both have been considered highly favored.”

            “When?” my spiritual sister and I asked at the same time.

            “Go to the two hundred year old oak tree behind the big barn at sunset. Keep this to yourselves. And may God richly bless you.”

BLACK SABBATH – CHAPTER 15

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

BLACK SABBATH

CHAPTER 15

ZELLA LaSTELLA-SALLIE

BUT YOU, DANIEL, SHUT UP THE WORDS, AND SEAL THE BOOK UNTIL THE TIME OF THE END; MANY SHALL RUN TOO AND FRO, AND KNOWLEDGE SHALL INCREASE. (Daniel 12:4)

            There were about a dozen of us watching Seven’s program in stunned silence. It was a live podcast feed from the congressional hearing featuring my husband and Congressman Redburn. Brock Storm was operating the camera from his seat twenty feet away. Whether or not he was recording in secret I didn’t know—God knows.

            The stunned silence in the Storm’s home wasn’t because of the dialogue between Seven and the Congressman. Our eyes were riveted to the TV screen due to the chaos in the courtroom. What was causing the pandemonium was apparently the beginning of the seven last plagues.

            As Brock operated the video camera, he had been rotating back and forth between which of the two men on display were speaking. He had just zeroed in on Mr. Redburn when the Congressman’s face began to discolor. He truly seemed to be living up to his last name.

            His complexion suddenly transformed from a pale alabaster to something like a bad sunburn. Then in a matter of seconds his skin transformed again when his face seemingly broke out into a case of severe acne. That’s when we noticed murmuring and shrieks. Brock rotated the camera around the courtroom and virtually everyone in the room had the same thing happening to them.

            Then the video screen took in both Congressman Redburn and Seven. The appearance of pimples on the Congressman had now turned into boil like sores, oozing puss. Yet my husband was not affected! His light complexion was as smooth as could be. That is for a man over forty with a five o’clock shadow. He seemed to be staring at the camera with a stunned expression. But it was actually Brock he gazed at as he nodded an acknowledgement of some type of communication between the two.

            Next the camera swirled and jiggled as Brock, my husband, and my cousin, Louis Lewis, quickly exited the courtroom.  We caught glimpses of people screaming and clutching their faces. Then the camera bobbed up and down as the trio ran out into the street. The picture on the large TV screen gyrated so much it started to give me motion sickness.

            Yet I couldn’t take my eyes from the scene on the screen. Then the picture stopped vibrating and stilled. Out on the street Brock had stopped and allowed the viewers to take in the commotion outside even the courtroom. Scores of people were clawing the loathsome sores on their faces. Thankfully there were some unaffected as they looked around, amazed at the turmoil.

            For about two seconds my cousin’s face appeared on the screen as he made his way past Brock. Thankfully his ebony complexion was unaffected by the plague. But his brown eyes were super wide and intense as he said, “Come on, Brock!”

            Then Brock whirled and captured the sight of my slightly overweight cousin scrambling down the sidewalk. Between Louie’s wide eyes and the sight of a middle aged man in dress shoes high step running as fast as he could, it caused several of us to snicker, despite the gravity of the situation.

            That view only lasted a few seconds as well before we heard a grunt and the picture on the screen briefly giggled. The camera spun around and captured my husband, the venerable Seven Sallie, sitting on the sidewalk with his arms behind him propping himself up. His gray-green eyes were as wide as Louie’s. “Why’d you stop, Brock?”

            “I was taking in the scene around us, just like you apparently were, as you weren’t watching where you were going.”

            With surprising agility for a middle aged man, Seven leapt up and sprinted away as he said, “Come on, let’s get outta here.”

            The picture began to giggle again as Brock pursued his two companions. My husband, an avid runner, passed my chunky cousin. It reminded me of John chapter twenty when John out ran Peter to Christ’s tomb. But leave it to my husband, he flung open the back door of a dark blue Chevy Malibu and dove in.

            Three cars away, Louie opened the door of his dark blue Crown Vic, but he then froze as he gazed toward the car Seven dove into. “Seven, over here.”

            “I’ll get him,” Brock’s voice said as the camera caught his muscular forearm opening the door to the Chevy Malibu. “Seven, you’re in the wrong car.”

            “Shoot!” he said as he scrambled out. Suddenly my husband’s eyes filled the entire screen for a couple seconds as he said, “Is that camera on?”

            “Yeah, this is a historical moment.”

            “What, by sticking it in my face as I get out of the wrong car?”

            “I’m just trying to help you out.”

            “Well turn that camera off or we’ll have to call this ‘The Three Stooges Escape the Plagues.’”

            Next we see Louis Lewis fumbling with his keys, starting his car, and then a view out of the windshield as they shot out of a parking lot. They had to make their way cautiously down the city streets. Cars were pulled over left and right, and people were running around in a panic.

            “Can you believe what we are witnessing?” Seven said.

            “That’s why I’m filming,” Brock replied, as he turned the camera back on Seven as my husband leaned on the front seats from the back. Seven’s eyes as well as his nose filled the screen this time.

            His eyebrows too as he frowned. “Will you stop sticking that thing in my face?”

            The camera rotated to Louie. My cousin glanced at it, then did a double take. “Well, don’t be pointing it at my ugly mug.”

            As we watched the trio escaping the city via the live feed, Destiny turned her pretty face toward me. She was chewing nervously on her lip but then chuckled. “I’m kind of glad they’re reluctantly playing ‘The Three Stooges.’ It’s sort of relieving how freaked out I feel.”

            “Me too,” I said as we both gave each other’s hand a reassuring squeeze.

            A knock at the door made us jump. Destiny clutched my hand tighter, so together we cautiously made our way to her front door. She peeked through a window and sighed with relief. Glancing at me, she said, “It’s Anna Clayton and her daughter, Brianna. They have no sores, but they both look terrified.”

            Dee opened the door and with her typical warm smile, in spite the turmoil. “Anna, Brianna, please come in.”

            Anna Clayton had learned about the true Sabbath during the loud cry. The loud cry came on the heels of the national Sunday law, in conjunction with the out pouring of the Holy Spirit, which was the Latter Rain.

            I knew the Sabbath issue had become a divisive sticking point between Anna and her husband. After fellowshipping with us a couple of times, she and her eight year old daughter Brianna stopped coming. Her reason was for the sake of her marriage. Her husband was in adamant favor of the Sunday laws.

            However, a few weeks earlier, when Sunday worship became mandatory, she showed up at our fellowship with a tear steaked face. She informed us that when the rubber met the road, she couldn’t deny her convictions. She clearly saw the Seventh Day Sabbath as the seal of God, and the mandatory worship on Sunday as the mark of the beast. It now had seemed to have driven a wedge between her and her husband. Her husband refused to let their daughter come with her.

            We didn’t know much about Anna those few weeks ago when she took her ultimate stand of faith. She was a plain Jane, meek and kind of timid. Her shoulder length hair was somewhere between dirty blond and light brown. In the limited time I had been around her, it had always been corralled in either a ponytail or hair clip. She wore glasses, but no makeup, and no jewelry other than a wedding band. Her gray eyes were close set, her nose small and her lips thin. Her smile, although rare, was lovely and made endearing by slightly crooked canine teeth.

            “I didn’t know what to do other than to come back to your church,” she had told Destiny and me after we led her into the pastor’s study for some privacy. “Brad refused to let Briana come with me.”

            “First of all, lets pray,” Destiny said, and then led us in a heartfelt prayer petitioning God’s help with Anna’s family situation as she courageously took a stand for her convictions.

            “There’s something else I should share,” Anna added. “Our two sons take their dad’s side in this controversy.”

            “Oh?” Destiny replied with raised eyebrows, looking as surprised as I felt. “I assumed Brianna was an only child.”

            Anna shook her head vigorously. “Brad and I have a twenty nine year old son and a twenty seven year old son.”

            I frowned. “I see, but I thought you had told us before that you were married the summer before Brianna was born?”

            She shook her head again. “We renewed our vows the summer before Brianna was born. We actually got married two weeks after we graduated from high school. Bradely Junior was born late the following spring.”

            “Oh, so you two have been married thirty years then?” I asked.

            She nodded. Then she bit her lower lip nervously. “I feel I should share something else with you as well. It’s actually making my situation with Brad much more complicated than just our differing views on the Sabbath.”

            She paused and looked at her lap. She wore a blue and white house dress, and she twisted her fingers nervously in the folds between her legs. The church she had belonged to was very conservative and the women always wore skirts or dresses.

            She looked up at us and a tear leaked from her eye. “I feel like I’m betraying Brad with what I’m about to share.”

            She paused for a very long time, but Destiny and I sat quietly and gave her space. Anna surprised us by suddenly snorting a laugh. “Well, you two sure aren’t the nosy, gossipy type. So at least I can trust you to keep it to yourself.”

            She paused and looked at her lap again. Especially given the little compliment she had given Destiny and me, I had to stop myself from saying, ‘Keep what to ourselves?’

            “Brad isn’t Briana’s father,” she finally and quietly admitted.

BLACK SABBATH – CHAPTER 14

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

BLACK SABBATH

CHAPTER 14

SEVEN SALLIE

NOW WHEN THEY BRING YOU TO THE SYNAGOGUES AND MAGISTRATES AND AUTHORITIES, DO NOT WORRY ABOUT HOW OR WHAT YOU SHOULD ANSWER, OR WHAT YOU SHOULD SAY. FOR THE HOLY SPIRIT WILL TEACH YOU IN THAT VERY HOUR WHAT YOU OUGHT TO SAY. (Luke 12:11, 12)

            “You just don’t get it!” the Congressman barked. His silver hair was perfectly coifed, and his capped white teeth seemed like a tight fit in his mouth. “It’s been proven that the Sunday laws have brought peace out of chaos. Mandatory worship has brought reverence back to God from a disrespectful and sinful society.”

            “Reverence to the god of this world, and of this age,” I replied.

            “What’s that supposed to mean?”

            “The Bible says, where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty (2 Corinthians 3:17). When you tell someone they HAVE to worship a deity, where is the liberty in that?”

            “Do you have children, Mr. Sallie?”

            “You know that I do. It was my daughter that arranged this hearing.”

            “When you instruct a child to say their prayers before bed time or at a meal, is that removing their liberty?”

            “Are you saying the citizens of this state and this country are like children that need their elected representatives to parent them and order them to say their prayers?”

            “Part of my campaign when I ran for office was supporting the agenda to bring our country back to morality. So you see, Mr. Sallie, you are not just rebelling against the authorities, you are rebelling against we the people.”

            “Well, if the majority of we the people want to take away my freedom to worship God according to my convictions, then I guess that would be rebelling. I obey the government of the God of the Bible first and foremost.”

            “Ah, and that’s where you missed the boat.  Don’t you see? We have joined our government of this fine country with the government of God.”

            “Poppycock.”

            “Poppycock?” he laughed mockingly. “Who uses poppycock in this day and age?”

            “It seems I just did.”

            “I suppose an archaic term goes with archaic reasoning.”

            “My reasoning comes from the Bible.”

            “With all due reverence to the Holy Scriptures, that’s part of your problem. Even the newest portions of the Bible were written two thousand years ago. That’s why Jesus gave authority to the church. Societies change and evolve, and then they need to adapt to those changes through the democracy of the ecclesiastic.”

            “Help me understand, Congressman. Are you saying the church has authority over the Bible?”

            “It does indeed.”

            “Not in my religious convictions, Sir. The Bible warns of an apostate religion. It predicted the dark ages, and it warns of persecution once again at the end of time. So the Bible has absolute supreme authority over the church. ”

            “And you have a right to those beliefs, Mr. Sallie. But you also have an obligation to obey the law of the land. The view that these Sunday laws will bring about persecution is ludicrous. The majority of we the people have concluded that Sunday reverence and worship is for the betterment of society.”

            “The majority killed Jesus. The majority refused to get on Noah’s ark. The majority bowed down to Nebuchadnezzar s golden image, save for Shadrack, Meshack, and Abednego. Now you’re trying to force Bible Sabbath keepers to bow down to your idol of Sunday.”

            “How dare you call the holy day of God an idol! I think our patience with the obstinacy of you anti-Sunday rebels has run its course. I think it’s due to your irreverence that we haven’t eradicated natural calamities, famine and strife. Maybe it might be best if you all were eradicated.”

            “Seriously? You just said Sunday laws wouldn’t lead to persecution.”

            “I miss spoke, I do apologize,” he back tracked. “Scratch that from the record.”

            “So by eradicated, you mean that it is expedient that Sabbath keepers be eliminated for the good of the country? Kind of like what Caiphas said regarding Jesus in John 11:50?”

            The Congressman looked around puzzled. I suppose he didn’t know what I was referring to. But he quickly regained his composure and made an attempted at a joke. It did obtain a few snickers when he declared, “Maybe they should bring back the frontal lobotomy for you fanatics.”

            The joke was tasteless, so I wondered if he was trying to lure me into something I said when I was a well-known, polarizing talk show host, during my pre-Christian days. I’m not proud of the many things I said and did back then. Especially of my reputation as a carouser, which led to my comment.

            So I will fill you in, because he was in fact trying to entice me with a well-known quote of mine from my syndicated show from the past. I had a guest on my show that was discussing realms of psychiatry. After he shared the history of the frontal lobotomy, and how it turned so many into zombies, I had said, ‘I’d rather have a bottle in front of me than a frontal lobotomy.’

            The Congressman smirked at me in anticipation, but I didn’t take the bait. I calmly asked, “Congressman, do you understand the rebellion in heaven? Do you understand the reason we exist in a sin filled world?”

            “Since you seem to have all the answers, why don’t you enlighten me?”

            “With all due respect, Congressman, you are very public with your profession of Christianity. Would you mind explaining your view on the fall of mankind?”

            “Your agenda is the one under scrutiny here, Mr. Sallie. I have simply been selected by my colleagues to lead this inquiry, which was, as you know, requested by your daughter. My personal views are irrelevant. I am here to uphold what has become the law of the land, and to stop people like you from thinking they can make their personal views the law of the land.”

            “That’s absurd!” I replied. “I am in no way, at all, expecting or even wanting my personal views to be the law of the land. I am simply arguing for the right to exercise freedom of religion, established by our founding fathers. And part of that freedom is not being required to observe a day contrary to the Ten Commandment Law of God.”

            “Objection!” the Congressman barked.

            There was a judge presiding over our conversation, but up until now he had been a silent observer. “Congressman, this is an informal hearing, not a trial, so there are no objections. On the other hand, Mr. Sallie, be careful not to defame other persons’ convictions of faith.”

            “Have I done such, your Honor?” I asked.

            “No Sir, but you are getting close.”

            “May I ask how?”

            “By insinuating that the sabbath of the majority is not part of the Decalogue.”

            “With all due respect, your Honor, it is not.”

            “That may be your truth, Mr. Sallie. But you need to respect the truth of your fellow citizens.”

            “In reality, is there such a thing as your truth and my truth? Jesus is the Way, the Truth and the Life, and the Holy Bible is the book that testifies of Him. So anybody’s personal, so called, truth is irrelevant. The Bible is the only source of genuine truth. Creation is truth, while evolution is a theory.”

            “Can you explain Creation, Mr. Sallie?” The Congressman asked.

            “Only from the perspective of the Bible. God created in six days and rested the seventh, establishing the Sabbath.”

            “Very well, Mr. Sallie. But many of us believe in a combination of Creation and evolution. There’s no way you can prove it was six literal days. The six day account is likely a hypothetical situation.”

            “Is that why the accuracy of the real Sabbath is unimportant to your side? Because you view Creation as hypothetical?”

            “I do not view Creation as hypothetical, only the duration. But you are getting side tracked. We may just need to agree to disagree. I say the church has authority to declare what is the sabbath, and you say it doesn’t. But regardless, of what you or I want, the Sunday sabbath has become the law of the land.”

            “Yes, it has become the law of the land,” I agreed. “And the Bible predicted this would happen. In the Old Testament book of Daniel no less (verse 7:25), it says that man would arrogantly intend to change times and law, as well as persecute God’s people. The Sabbath as well as Creation represent time, and obviously the Sabbath also represents law.”

            “Once again, Mr. Sallie, you interpret the Bible one way, John Doe another, Joe Smith yet another. That’s why the church, now finally combined with the state, has supreme authority over the Bible and all of its interpreters. This is now the entity that has moral authority, and you might as well get used to it. Signing in with a worship service, of your choice mind you, once a week every Sunday is not a tall order. There are some services that are not even a half hour long. That’s easier than paying taxes.”

            “My church doesn’t have a Sunday service.”

            “Well maybe it should.”

            “Why don’t you make a law requiring that?”

            “It’s not a bad idea, Mr. Sallie. You know, you ought to be grateful. In some places people like you are imprisoned and even put to death.”

            “I am grateful. Because I have no fear of what man can do to me (Matthew 10:28). I have eternal life through Jesus Christ.”

            He emitted a sarcastic snort. “Maybe you and you fanatical supporters should start having some fear.”

            I had noticed his face getting a hot pink. I assumed it was because he was agitated with me. Then he suddenly appeared to have a bad case of acne. He started grunting and scratching his face. Other observers in the court were doing the same, including the judge. A foul smell filled the court room as the rashes became loathsome sores (Revelation 16:2).

            I glanced at my companions, Brock Storm and Louis Lewis. They looked as baffled as I felt. We were the only three in the courtroom without sores. Cries and shrieks echoed from the tall dome like ceiling. Then we started to hear a few of them blame us Sabbath keepers for the plague.

            My eyes locked with Brock’s, and he gave a wave of his head, communicating ‘let’s get out of here.’ I made my way to my compadres, and the three of us headed for an exit. Everyone was so discombobulated by the pain of their sores and so freaked out at seeing them on everyone else, we slipped out unnoticed.

            Former Lieutenant Louis Lewis drove a former squad car. It was a dark blue Ford Crown Vic. Lou gunned the engine as we left the city post haste. Brock rode shotgun and I leaned in between the seats from the back. Then with a racing heart, I said, “That was the first of the seven last plagues. Do you know what this means, fellas?”

            Lou glanced at me with uncertainty. He was still new to the study of eschatology. Brock glanced at me with certainty. “We are getting closer than ever to the second coming of Christ.”

            “That’s right,” I replied. “Now we need to get back to the group and pray earnestly for direction with our next move.”

BLACK SABBATH – CHAPTER 10

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

BLACK SABBATH

CHAPTER 10

SEVEN SALLIE

  WE OUGHT TO OBEY GOD RATHER THAN MEN (Acts 5:29)

            When it rains it pours! As I sat in a holding cell at the county jail, this idea had never applied to me more than now. First Inga Cognito’s sister was found murdered down by the river. The next day an arsonist burned our house to the ground. Three days after that I was charged with civil disobedience and therefore arrested.

            I was given one phone call and chose my lawyer. He was not only a good friend, but a brother in Christ. He was also very astute. Just as the prophet Daniel purposed in his heart that he would not defile himself with the king’s delicacies (Daniel 1:8), Roger Maxwell refrained from all artificial stimulants and ate whole foods rather than junk foods. His daily exercise routine also kept him in better shape than most twenty year olds, despite being sixty something.

            This fitness coupled with an unwavering faith in God made him, in my opinion, the most honest attorney on the planet. Those of us that were close to him affectionately called him Mad Max. Obviously his name was part of the reason we referred to him by this moniker. But there was something else.

            The other reason was an ironic twist of Roger Maxwell being just the opposite of angry. Even in heated court battles, Roger never lost control. As a matter of fact, his friendly countenance garnered him a second nickname, Mr. Roger. This one after the legendary host Fred Rogers of the children’s program ‘Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood’. He even looked a little similar to Fred.

            The first time I was arrested, an officer escorted Roger to my cell. So that’s what I was expecting the second time. But before he arrived, Lieutenant Louis Lewis entered with two officers. I found this curious.

            I was getting the feeling that his sympathies lay with our cause. But now he appeared to be coming to talk with me accompanied by two uniforms. But it only appeared that way. The trio went past my cell to the empty one next door. But it wasn’t empty for long. As Triple Lou entered my neighboring cell, one of the escorting officers, clearly the younger of the two, said, “Sorry to have to do this, Lieutenant.”

            “You’re just doing your job, son,” Triple Lou replied.

            “You don’t need to apologize,” the older uniform said. “He’s essentially our former Lieutenant. Didn’t earn the rank either, got it for another reason.”

            “Is that right, Hanover?” Triple Lou said testily. “What would that be?”

            “I think you know. You’re the one that busted me from sergeant for getting rough with one of your kind.”

            “What’s my kind, Hanover?”

            “This…” Hanover was beginning to say a racial slur but stopped himself. “This lowlife was resisting arrest, and I put the poor little angel in the squad car too rough.”

            “The poor little angel was knocked unconscious and had to get a dozen stiches, because my undisciplined officer slammed his head into edge of the car’s roof. I wanted to fire you, not just demote you, but I got overruled.”

            “Jail duty on top of it,” Hanover complained. “I’d have been better off fired. Do you know how many low life’s I’ve had to see drop their drawers and bend over?”

            “Don’t lie, you probably enjoy that, Hanover,” Triple Lou said testily.

            The young officer looked like a deer in the headlights. I’m sure I looked a little stunned myself. I had gotten to know Lieutenant Louis Lewis a little over the previous weeks, and he was one of the most even keeled people I had ever met. So to see him lose control, if that’s what his comment suggested, I was a little surprised.

            Hanover turned and began to walk away. As he did so, he said, “I better get out of here before I get another charge of police brutality.”

            Triple Lou snorted, shook his head, and folded his arms across his hefty chest.

            In a voice like a 1930’s gangster, I asked, “Hey pal, what cha ya in for?”

            He glared at me, his dark eyes looking like burning coals in their sockets. “Why did our lives have to cross paths?”

            His comment took me by surprise. When that happens, my mouth often cracks wise before my brain can stop it. “Well, I’m quite fond of you too, Lou.”

            He snorted, sat down hard on his cot and glared at me. I sat on my cot and raised my eyebrows at him. “Please Lou, I don’t mean to be flippant. But how on earth did you end up in a jail cell?”

            “For defending your fool mouth.”

            “My foul mouth? What do you mean? I don’t swear or talk crude.”

            “Your fool mouth, fool.”

            “Oh, fool, as in foolish.”

            “Ding, ding, ding, give the man a prize.”

            “Now you’re calling me a ding bat?”

            Triple Lou dragged a hand over his weary hound dog face. I truly thought he said foul rather than fool. But now I was being facetious with ding bat. Thinking better of it, I got us back on track.

            “Listen, Lieutenant…”

            “Former Lieutenant,” he interrupted.

            “Okay, listen, Lou…Is. I’m sorry if you got in trouble over me, but…”

            “No if about it,” he interrupted again.

            “Like I said, sorry. But if you wouldn’t mind, tell me how this came about.”

            He sighed. “It started with Agent Medora. She and I got into a debate about the Sabbath. I was defending your position. Long story short, she threatened to tell my superiors that I was rebelling against the Sunday laws. She followed through, and as I was sitting in your church the other day, I got notified by my Captain that I was suspended. When I went in to talk with him and the chief, they were not happy with my position. Then today they decided to fire me. I cleaned out my desk, and when I exited the station, low and behold, the press was there. After I explained my getting fired, they asked me about you and your latest arrest. They said you were inciting people to disobey mandatory worship. They asked if I agreed with you, and I said your dog gone tootin. Then I expanded on the topic. Next thing I know, I’m cuffed and stuffed.”

            “Dog gone it, Lou, you shouldn’t have sworn at ‘em.”

            “I didn’t swear… Sallie, I don’t know about you.”

            “Sorry, sometimes my mouth speaks before my brain can stop it.”

            “Sometimes? How about most times. Your mouth is why you’re sitting in lock up.”

            “I guess you’d know,” I said and then winced. “Sorry, there I go again. But so much for free speech. I guess it’s a thing of the past. Huh?”

            “Yeah,” he sighed. “But it is confusing.”

            “What is?”

            “I mean all of the revivals and miracles that have taken place seem to have combated crime and violence better than law enforcement. I can see why there has been a call to worship. I do question whether I made the right stand.”

            “This was prophesied to happen.”

            He snorted. “What, me ending up in a neighboring jail cell with you?”

            “No, that right before Christ returns there would be a controversy over the law of God. The Sabbath aspect of the Ten Commandments in particular. Obviously the Sabbath was instituted at Creation (Genesis 2:2,3). So I find it fascinating that Revelation 14:7 instructs us to worship Him who made heaven and earth. Then in verse 12, it says here are they who keep the commandments of God. Which obviously includes the fourth.”

            “At this point you’re preaching to the choir. I wouldn’t be sitting here if I didn’t have a basic understanding of the prophesies.”

            “You’re the one that said you were confused.”

            “I know, I know,” he said waving a hand. “But it’s one thing to be sitting in my study reading about it. It’s another thing to lose my job and get arrested in a protest.”

            “Remember that you’re gaining treasure in heaven,” I reassured him. (Matthew 6:20) “All things are possible to him who believes.” (Mark 9:23)

            He nodded but said, “Lord I believe help me with my unbelief.” (Mark 9:24)

            The main door opened and the young officer that was with Hanover escorted a bedraggled looking man with a scraggly gray beard into a cell. Then he stopped in front of me and said, “I’ll be coming back in a few minutes to take you before the judge. Your lawyer is here as well.”

            “Thank you, officer,” I replied.

            He grinned at me. “I don’t get thanked by the inmates very often.”

            After the officer left, I said, “I should be home by supper then.”

            “I wouldn’t count on that,” Triple Lou said.

            “What do you mean?”

            “This is your second misdemeanor. Two together equals a felony. You’ll be transferred to the main jail indefinitely awaiting trial.”

            My whole body electrified, and I numbly said, “You’re kidding?”

            With a deadpan expression he said, “Yes I am.”

            His face was so utterly serious, I repeated, “You are kidding, right?”

            For the first time in our short relationship, I saw him not only smile but laugh. Then he said, “How does it feel, Mr. Jokester?”

            I felt relief wash over me as I grinned back at him. It was an odd place to be sharing a bit mirth with each other. Especially for the first time in what was actually becoming a friendship. It made me think of when Paul and Silas prayed and sang hymns in prison. (Acts 16:25)

            (Writer’s note: I would just like to reiterate that this is a work of fiction, and my imagined scenario of future prophetic events is simply what I’ve been envisioning could happen, not what will happen. Just as no one knows the day or hour of our Lord’s return (Matthew 24:36), no one knows the exact circumstances that will bring about the final events and test for humanity and God’s people. Only that it will center on the law of God vs. the law of man. In other words a combined religious/political system in the future will institute a system where you will not be allowed to buy or sell unless you have this mark of the beast (Revelation 13:16,17).

            I personally believe the particular test point will be over the  Biblical Seventh Day Sabbath, opposed to Sunday. Sunday as a sabbath really took flight when Constantine made Christianity a legal religion in the fourth century. A side effect of this legal religion was many pagan rites were brought into this church/state religion. One crucial aspect had to do with sun worship and the venerable day of the Sun. So Sunday quickly evolved into the day most of Christianity recognized as the Sabbath.

            If you would like a more concise study on prophetic issues that go much deeper than my little story, issues like America in prophecy, who is the antichrist, what is the mark of the beast, I have a couple suggestions which I have mentioned before. Amazing Facts Ministry has excellent study materials. You can also find their main speaker, Doug Batchelor, on YouTube. Also on YouTube, and maybe my favorite prophecy series, is David Asscherick’s ‘Five Good Reasons.’

            One more thing I would like to reiterate while I am here. I do this because I love to write, but these stories are rough manuscripts. My wife is my first reader, and although I am very pleased with her work, she is not a professional editor. So there will be errors and inconsistencies from time to time. That said, thank you for your interest! May God richly bless you and yours!)

BLACK SABBATH – CHAPTER 9

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

BLACK SABBATH

CHAPTER 9

LIEUTENANT LOUIS LEWIS

TO GIVE THEM BEAUTY FOR ASHES (Isaiah 61:3)

            The Sallie’s home was a total loss. But all was not lost. In a large fire proof safe covered in ashes, they retrieved family heirlooms, pictures and financial records. Most importantly, they had their health. They also had the support of friends and family. In particular, Seven’s cousin Brock Storm and his lovely wife Destiny Knight-Storm.

            The Storm’s lived in an old renovated eight bedroom farmhouse on about a dozen acres way out in the boondocks. Brock had been a high level body guard, protecting celebrities and those of great financial wealth. I had first become aware of him when a big city gangster sent several of his goons to our area to seek revenge on the couple.

            Many moons ago, Brock’s wife Destiny had been an exotic dancer. In other words, she was a stripper. Brock had been a bouncer at the so called gentleman’s club where she performed. He had gotten wind that a certain notorious gangster was going to follow his future wife home. So Brock followed her home as well.

            Just as the said gangster was about to consummate a sexual assault, Brock ran interference, knocking the gangster out with a round house kick to the noggin. When the gangster regained consciousness, the first thing he saw were several police officers with guns drawn. When all was said and done, he ended up doing ten years in the pen.

            After the skirmish, the future spouses went their separate ways. Fortunately, being nearly raped, the episode convinced Destiny to put an end to her dancing career. Unfortunately, she turned to nude modeling and porn instead. Brock on the other hand was offered a job with the high end security company where Inga Cognito’s brother was currently employed.

            A decade later, Brock began to experience a Christian conversion. After reading a book authored by Pastor Kirk Samson, a retired Army Chaplain who was affectionately known as Captain Kirk by his congregation, Brock stopped to visit the country church the former Army Captain pastored and never left the area.

            About a year after he began attending, low and behold, Destiny showed up. The pair couldn’t have been more surprised by their reunion, especially given the circumstances of their association. Who would have thought they would meet again at a country church in Iowa? Coincidence? More like providence.

            Although sparks flew between the couple, Brock was in a complicated relationship with a woman named Nora Medora. This is the same Nora Medora that became an agent for the Federal Bureau of Investigation. The same agent I had briefly worked with monitoring Seven Sallie’s podcast. We met up again in the aftermath of the Sallie’s housefire.

            Agent Medora’s involvement with the enforcement of national Sunday laws had increased, whereas mine had decreased. One of her tasks was to still keep tabs on Seven Sallie’s podcast. She was keeping an eye out for anything deemed hate speech. Also she was monitoring if he was encouraging defiance of the ever increasing push for mandatory worship, which could lead to a charge of civil disobedience.

            I had just finished talking to the chief fire inspector when Agent Medora arrived. The inspector confirmed what we already suspected. Arson. In black spandex pants and orange spandex shirt with florescent orange running shoes, she looked more ready to run a race rather than do detective work.

            I reflexively sucked in my gut as she approached me. But I had made a covenant with my eyes (Job 31:1) and kept them trained on hers rather than her painted on clothes that clung to her like a second skin.

            “Lieutenant Lewis,” she greeted.

            “Agent Medora.”

            “Any clues on who did this or how it started?” she asked.

            “I don’t believe this is a federal investigation.”

            “I beg to differ. Seven Sallie is of national interest.”

            “So are you building a case against him?”

            “Let’s just say we’re watching. Seven walks a fine line with his rhetoric.”

            “So free speech has become a thing of the past.”

            She frowned. “Whose side are you on, Lieutenant? You were once in charge of Sunday ordinances in this neck of the woods. What happened?”

            I shrugged. “I guess I’m desiring truth in the inward parts.” (Psalm 51:6)

            Her frown deepened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

            “It means I’ve been studying out this Sabbath issue from both sides, and I’ve come to believe that those pointing to scripture after scripture advocating the Seventh Day Sabbath are correct. God established it at creation, and He wrote it in the middle of the Decalogue with his own finger.”

            “What’s the Decalogue?”

            I don’t think I was trying to crack wise. But I arched an eyebrow. “Agent Medora. You seem to be rapidly gaining rank enforcing the national Sunday laws, yet you don’t know what the Decalogue is?”

            Her gaze was cool as we had a several second stare down. Then she asked, “Is it the Ten Commandments?”

            “Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner.” Okay, that was cracking a bit wise. But it was spontaneous, and I was trying to make a point. “Do you see the problem? We have all these leaders making and enforcing moral law, and they don’t even fully understand the issue.”

            She abruptly folded her arms under her chest, cocked her hips to the right, and jutted her left leg so her foot was arched at an angle. The sudden movement caused my gaze to divert down her body. She was in phenomenal shape and the clothing that seemed like a second skin only enhanced her physique. My eyes wanted to linger, but I silently told myself, “Covenant with the eyes, fool.”

            “For my part, I enforce what’s made into law,” she defended.

            “Whether you believe in it or not?”

            “Who said I don’t believe in it?”

            “You told me yourself that you are an agnostic that leans toward atheist.”

            “People evolve. Now I’m an agnostic that leans toward the spiritual. These are volatile times. The revivals across the country are doing a good job combating civil unrest. Something you need to ask yourself, Lieutenant, is can all these religious leaders uniting and coming together for the common good be wrong?”

            “Of course they can. When has the majority ever been right in spiritual matters? Did the majority get on the ark? Did the majority refuse to bow down to Nebuchadnezzar’s golden image? Did the majority welcome Jesus at his birth?”

            “You’re missing the point. You believe the few radicals bucking the system are correct and the leaders of the prominent churches are wrong?”

            “When the whole world is running toward a cliff, he who is running in the opposite direction appears to have lost his mind.”

            “Really? You see these Sunday laws as running toward a cliff? Look, I admit that I’m not religious. But I have to admit that after the installment of the Sunday laws, crime has been  decreasing. I believe that when, and not if, mandatory worship is put in place, crime will not only continue to decease but dramatically decrease.”

            “I see. So you being, admittedly not religious, will have no problem being forced to go to church every Sunday?”

            “Am I forced to pay my taxes? I think giving an hour of my time once a week will be much easier than being forced to hand over almost a third of my income every year. Plus it will benefit me. I otherwise might not try to get in touch with my higher power.”

            “Your higher power? Right off the bat there’s a problem. You can’t love God without freewill. Mandatory worship will just be the amalgamation of all these different beliefs. God is not the author of confusion.” (1 Corinthians 14:33)

            She shrugged. “You see the glass half empty. I see it as half full. These Sunday laws are helping the world unite. All of us have our own truth, but now we are all uniting under the Sabbath banner.”

            “Sunday is not Sabbath. Even in other languages, for instance Sabado is Saturday in Spanish. Even if it was the Biblical Sabbath being enforced by law, that would still be wrong. Forced worship is not true worship.”

            “Like I said, you have your truth, and I have mine.”

            “Jesus is the Way, the Truth, and the Life.”

            “That’s nice for you. But my destiny is to be a law officer. To use your religious term, I was called to fight evil,” she told me, using air quotes for called. “The revivals that have gone on across the land have led to the Sunday laws. Now that the powers that be have decided on that, that’s where I come in. They were designed to bring about peace, and I’m a spoke in the great wheel to see that they do.”

            “When they say peace and safety then sudden destruction comes.” (1 Thessalonians 5:3)

            Her eyes narrowed. “You know, Lieutenant, if an officer of the law doesn’t like the law, maybe they should resign.”

            I felt a chill go up my spine. She was cold! “Gonna tell my Captain to keep an eye on me again?”

            She didn’t flinch. “No, this time I’m gonna recommend you either change your tune or be discharged.”

            I felt numb. I didn’t know what to say, but something seemingly outside of myself caused my head to nod and mouth to say, “You’re probably right. If I don’t agree with laws being instituted, I have no business being in a position to enforce them.”

            Nora Medora was a hard no nonsense woman. But with my non combative response, I noticed her eyebrows raise a little. “Look, for the time being you have a murder to investigate and now we both have this arson situation that might involve cases we are working on. So back to the beginning. Do you have any clues?”

            “The gentleman that lives across from the Sallie’s said he noticed a Ryder sprinter van in their driveway about ten minutes before he noticed smoke and flames coming from the backside. Thinking it was Amazon making a delivery, he didn’t think anything of it. I had some officers canvas the area and we actually got a better description of the suspect.”

            “Good,” she replied, vigorously writing in a note pad. I wondered where it materialized from given her skin tight clothing.

            “That’s all I know,” I said.

            “Very well, thank you,” she said and began to briskly walk away.

            “Off to see my Captain?”

            She stopped and turned. “Why, do you want me to?”

            “You do what you gotta do.”

            “Just to be straight, the next time I talk to your Captain, I am gonna voice my concern. However, I do not intend on giving any recommendations. Obviously that’s up to him anyway.”

            “That’s very big of you.”

            I honestly didn’t mean to sound flippant, but I’m afraid it came across that way. She seemed to glare at me for a couple seconds, and then without another word, she turned and left.

            As I started to watch her walk away, I diverted my gaze and told myself, “Covenant with the eyes, fool.”

            The next day was the Sabbath. I was driving around, my head churning with a multitude of topics. I honestly had no destiny in mind but eventually found myself in the parking lot of Cotton Creek Cove. It was the Sallie’s church, made from a renovated barn.

            The service was already underway when I took a seat in the back. I was just in time to hear Seven give a testimonial. I was impressed by his relationship with his personal Savior. With the gratitude he expressed, you would have never guessed his house had just burned to the ground. He was thankful for everyone’s safety. He was grateful to Brock and Destiny Knight-Storm for taking them in. He quoted scriptures written by the Apostle Paul which addressed enduring hardships. He ended by praying for strength to press forward.

            After the service, my cousin Zella greeted me warmly, peace radiating from her face as she expressed pleasure at my presence. Inga too seemed glad to see me. I wanted what these people had! By the world’s standards they had lost almost everything. Yet to watch them, they seemingly had everything. I was now truly convinced. And it came just in time.

            My phone whistled like a choo, choo train indicating an incoming call. “Hey, Captain.”

            “Hey, Lou,” he responded. Then I heard him sigh. “I was just in the chief’s office, and he wanted me to contact you right away.”

            “News on the case?” I asked.

            “No,” he replied. Then thinking of my conversation with Agent Nora Medora the previous day, my gut twisted. “Lou, I’m afraid you’re being suspended indefinitely.”

BLACK SABBATH – CHAPTER 3

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

BLACK SABBATH

CHAPTER 3

LIEUTENANT LOUIS LEWIS

JESUS SAID, “I AM THE WAY, THE TRUTH, AND THE LIFE. NO ONE COMES TO THE FATHER EXCEPT THROUGH ME.” (John 14:6)

            “Hey look, it’s Steve Harvey and Selena Gomez,” the feral looking woman sitting at the Sallie’s kitchen table said as FBI agent Nora Medora and I stepped into their home. Seven had invited us in after we told him we had just come to talk, and not to arrest him.

            I recognized the woman immediately. I had seen her singing on the downtown streets several times. I knew she was homeless, so what was she doing in the Sallie’s home? How did they know her? She had a beautiful voice; I’ll give her that. The songs emanating from her gifted vocal cords were usually hymns as well.

            Considering myself a devout Christian, I really wanted to throw the book at her when she was brought in for shoplifting the other day. I couldn’t stand hypocrites; they gave Christianity a bad name. I just didn’t realize back then that I was one myself. Who knows, maybe I still am. For the heart is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked, who can know it? (Jeremiah 17:9)

            Rather than become angry at what might have been considered a slight, Agent Medora and I glanced at each other with arched eyebrows. I’m sure we were both thinking, ‘yeah, she kinda does, yeah he kinda does.’ However, Nora Medora’s black hair was short, and she was very fit and muscular, sort of like a female bodybuilder. As a result I tended to suck in my stomach while around her, which became quite tiring.

            Seven’s wife Zella was my cousin, but we were estranged. First when she shamed the family by becoming an erotic model, and second when she started practicing as a so called psychic. Third, ironically, because of a religious conversion. Yet we thought her style of Christianity was odd, fanatical, and it flowed the opposite way of the mainstream.

            But eventually I would experience the biggest paradox of my life. I was put in charge of enforcing Sunday laws. And considering myself a devout Christian I went about it with great zeal. I saw Seven Sallie as my main adversary, because he was foremost, via his podcast, at encouraging people to disobey the particular laws I was in charge of.

            However, it was through attempting to keep him in line, and hopefully finding a reason to arrest him, that I began to discover what the Bible actually taught. I came to realize that as a Christian zealot and law officer, who was enforcing moral legislation, I was behaving contrary to The Word of God.

            “We’ll give you some privacy,” my cousin offered.

            “No need,” Agent Medora declared. “It would do well for you two to hear what we have to say. After all, Mr. Sallie has spread his poison very publicly.”

            “Poison?” Seven inquired calmly with an arched eyebrow. “Teaching history is spreading poison?”

            “Today you all but called, arguably, the most revered spiritual leader in the world the beast of Revelation,” Agent Medora continued.

            “I did no such thing,” Seven defended. “I simply spoke about the dark ages. I said that the persecuting power that put millions to death over more than a thousand years would receive a deadly wound and that deadly wound would be healed. And all the world marveled and followed the beast.” (Revelation 13:3)

            Agent Medora folded her arms abruptly. “You also said that this figure received the deadly wound by Napoleon through his General Berthier. So it was pretty easy to figure out who you were talking about through the internet. My point is, you can’t blame who currently holds that position for those who held it hundreds of years ago.”

            “I’m not. But I am warning that persecution will happen again. You can’t make worship mandatory. And the Bible predicts it will happen again before the end of time. The only thing we don’t know is exactly when and how long.”

            “Nobody in our state is making worship mandatory,” I barked. “The Sunday ordinances are so workers can be guaranteed time with their families. Also a day to give the planet a rest from pollution.”

            Agent Medora looked at me with a contrite expression. Then she said, “To be fair, there is talk on the federal level of mandatory worship. That’s why I was sent to work with you on the Seven Sallie file in particular. He is the foremost voice protesting our government.”

            “Ooooh, I have a file,” Seven said. “Ya know, Nora, I happen to know one of the reasons you and Brock broke up was due to his Christian conversion. Did that change?”

            “It did not,” she replied defiantly. “I’m still somewhere between atheist and agnostic.”

            “So how can you be a defender of moral legislation?”

            “My job is to enforce law, not make them. Just so you know, I asked for this assignment so I could come reason with you as a friend. To keep you out of trouble.”

            “Are we friends? I hope we are, but we hardly know each other. Brock and I weren’t exactly warm and fuzzy back then.”

            She was about to say something on the side of emotional, and I could tell it was making her uncomfortable. “I almost married your cousin, and he still holds a special place in my heart.”

            Seven nodded and bit his lip. I figured he was metaphorically biting his tongue from saying, ‘You have a heart?’

            “The truth is, Sallie,” I said. “You’re just trying to regain the spotlight you lost.”

            “What would you know about truth?” the feral woman at the table spit.

            I glared at her and her name came back to me. One of the arresting officers showed me two different IDs she had on her person when they searched her. A California ID, which proved to be legitimate, had her as Inga Marie Likas. An Arizona ID, which proved to be fake, called her Inga Cognito. “What would a shoplifting liar know about truth?”

            “I know you wear a cross around your neck, yet you do the opposite of what Jesus taught.”

            “Oh, is that right? I’m doing the opposite of what Jesus taught by keeping the public safe?”

            “Safe from what?”

            “Enough!” Agent Medora ordered. “Let’s make this short and sweet. Our little visit is just a friendly warning that you are being watched. So as a friend, Seven, I’m telling you to be careful.”

            “The majority like these Sunday laws,” I added diplomatically. “The majority want these Sunday laws.”

            “When has the majority ever been right?” Zella spoke up. “The greater the number, the more certain the lie.”

            “The numerical is the most ridiculous parody of the truth,” Inga added.

            Continuing diplomacy, I calmly said, “Look, nobody is stopping you from keeping the Jewish Sabbath. But the majority of us keep Sunday, so that’s the one designated for national rest.”

            Seven grabbed a Bible from a coffee table. He opened it, flipped through pages, settled on one and handed me the open book. “Would you read Mark 2:27?”

            “And He said to them, The Sabbath was made for man and not man for the Sabbath.”

            “Did Jesus say the Sabbath was for the Jews or mankind?”

            “That’s not the point. We keep Sunday in honor of the resurrection.”

            “We get baptized in honor of the resurrection,” Seven responded. “With all due respect, Lieutenant, God wrote the ten suggestions with his own finger.”

            “You mean Ten Commandments,” I spontaneously interrupted. Then I felt my face flush at being tricked.

            “Right, my bad. Right in the middle is the Sabbath, the only one that starts with remember. Yet most of the Christianity is purposely forgetting. It’s the one commandment that recognizes God as our Creator, and as it’s worded in Deuteronomy chapter five, our Deliverer and Redeemer, if you please. In Malachi, the last book in the Old Testament, chapter three and verse six declares the Lord does not change.”

            I was speechless, I had no argument. And the reason I had no argument was it rang true. Another reason this man I used to think obnoxious, wasn’t trying to argue. He was reasoning, as with a friend.

            “Lieutenant, once again with all due respect, I suggest you get out your concordance and study the scriptures that refer to the Sabbath.”

            As Agent Medora and I rode back to the station in my unmarked police car, I called my wife. When I looked Seven in the eye as he suggested a concordance, I felt ashamed of not knowing if we had one. But in front of Agent Medora, an unbeliever, I didn’t care. “Honey, do we have a concordance?”

            “You mean a Bible concordance?” Her voice emanated from the speakers.

            “Yes.”

            “I’m sure we do, but I’ll have to look for it.”

            “Could you?”

            “Sure thing.”

            “Thanks, love you.”

            Agent Medora looked at me with curiosity. “You’re not actually gonna do what Seven told you to do?”

            “He didn’t tell me, he suggested. The way I see it, I wasn’t able to answer him back there. If enforcing Sunday laws are part of my responsibility, I need to understand the issue more than I do.”

            She gave her shoulder a half shrug as if to say whatever. Ten minutes after Agent Medora left the station, my Captain called me into his office. “Have a seat, Lou.”

            Captain Stubing was about a year from tiring and looked ready. He was fifty pounds overweight with seemingly constant circles under his hound dog eyes. He said, “Agent Medora warned me to keep an eye on you.”

            I felt my jaw tighten with anger, betrayal even. Agent Medora and I had been in communication even before Seven had been arrested the other day. A few hours ago, she and I had listened to Seven’s podcast together in my office. Although in different branches of law enforcement, she gave me the impression that we were not only colleagues, but teammates. “I see.”

            “I think she wanted me to keep it to myself, Lou. But you and I have been friends a long time, and I’m not gonna let no uppity Fed come between us. So she says as a long time investigator, her gut tells her that this Seven Sallie character is influencing you. Says you’re gonna read material he told you about.”

            “All that happened, Cap, was he suggested I get a Bible concordance and study this Sabbath issue out for myself. As much as I dislike the man, he’s right. If part of my responsibilities are Sunday laws, I need to understand every angle.”

            “Good thinking, Lou, I couldn’t agree more. I knew I had nothing to worry about, but communication is key to a tight ship.”

            “Thank you, Sir.”

            Before she left, Agent Medora had given me a firm handshake and a warm smile. This only minutes after telling my immediate superior to keep an eye on me. It made me recall one brief element of Seven’s podcast that really resonated with me. It kept echoing in my mind, especially after Agent Medora tried to throw me under the bus.

            I know I’m comparing apples with oranges with what Agent Medora did. But this is what he said, “It is so heartbreaking that Christ, the teacher of love, who is not only loving but Is Love. That He should be betrayed with a kiss. Such is the nature of sin.”

BLACK SABBATH – CHAPTER 2

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

BLACK SABBATH

CHAPTER 2

ZELLA LaSTELLA-SALLIE

HERE IS THE PATIENCE OF THE SAINTS; HERE ARE THOSE WHO KEEP THE COMMANDMENTS OF GOD AND THE FAITH OF JESUS (Revelation 14:12)

            I laid in bed thinking about Inga for a long time before I fell asleep. By all appearances she was world hardened and tough. Yet as she climbed into the bed I had prepared for her, her demeanor became meek and childlike. Her large, lovely eyes that gazed up at me were arctic blue, like the sky at the North Pole on a sunny day. That color only made the brown circles underneath them stand out all the more.

            In my mind I kept hearing her tell me the bed was the most comfortable thing after four years in her sleeping roll. I was delighted to be bringing her such joy, yet my heart also ached for what her life must have been like. I prayed earnestly for wisdom in dealing with the broken young woman on the other side of the bedroom wall.

            Another element that brought mixed emotions was food. I smiled at the remembrance of her shoveling in the lasagna last evening and stuffing bite after bite of garlic bread into her mouth. It was as if it were the last decent meal she would ever have. And in her mind it very well could have been.

            She slept for more than eleven hours, and I wasn’t surprised. I had been listening to my husband’s daily podcast when just before ten in the morning I heard a low strum coming from my son’s guitar. I walked to the bedroom door and heard Inga quietly singing ‘Amazing Grace.’ My jaw dropped. She had the voice of an angel! I couldn’t help knocking on her door.

            It went completely quiet, and I couldn’t help giggling. Seven loved watching ‘Andy Griffith Show’ reruns and this moment reminded me of the first episode featuring the hillbilly family ‘The Darlings.’ The family played old time country music. When the father checked into the local hotel, he registered as the only occupant. But then the clerk heard the sound of several instruments. When he and Sherrif Taylor knocked on the door, the music stopped except for the hoots coming from Briscoe Darling’s jug.

            That scene is what made me giggle. When there was a prolonged silence, I imagined a jug beginning to hoot. I knocked again and then I could hear Inga pad to the door. She opened it about six inches, and those arctic blue eyes peered out at me. She meekly said, “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

            “No, no, Sweety,” I smiled. “I just heard you playing guitar and singing, and came to say good morning.”

            “Oh, good morning,” she replied cheerfully.

            “You sing beautifully.”

            She shrugged modestly but then added truthfully. “Yeah, thankfully my voice has filled my cup with change many, many times.”

            I knew she referred to singing on the streets with a tip jar. I also recalled her reason for shop lifting; she hadn’t eaten in two days.

            “Are you hungry, do you want some breakfast?”

            “I’m starving,” she declared happily. “I’d love some.”

            I couldn’t help laughing as I recalled how much she ate last night. “How did you sleep?”

            “Wonderful! Thank you for letting me stay here last night.”

            I read between the lines. “You know, like we said told you yesterday, you’re welcome here until you get on your feet.”

            Given what she had told us yesterday, I made sure not to say back on your feet. She looked at me with a baffled expression. “I don’t even know how to go about that.”

            “We’ll help you figure it out.”

            Her countenance became anxious, and this triggered anxiety in me. I bit my lip and offered up a silent prayer. Then cautiously I tried, “Honey, can I ask how you ended up homeless?”

            She looked away from me as if ashamed. “It’s complicated, and a long story.”

            “That’s okay. I’ve got time.”

            “No, it’s not okay,” she spit, turning her eyes back to me with fire in them. Then as fast as the blaze in her gaze came up, it faded away and her countenance softened. “I’m sorry, it’s just… Let’s just say I grew up under bizarre circumstances. I don’t think I can fit into the real world.”

            “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but maybe that’s not such a bad thing.”

            She looked at me curiously. “You mean how you and Seven don’t really fit into the real world either?”

            I tilted my head with a curious expression. “What do you mean?”

            “I mean touting Saturday as the sabbath when most of the Christian world is all gung ho over those Sunday laws. Seven was even arrested over the issue. Plus you invited a homeless girl into your home while a large portion of the religious world just don’t want us uglifying their streets. I fear for you guys.”

            “You fear for us?” Said the homeless girl? I frowned.

            “Yeah, I mean, when God became a human being, the powers that be put him to death for rebelling against the religious, political agenda. Now with Sunday laws, we have religion mixing with politics. I see Christ’s Sermon on the Mount as not just a way to live and think, but also a political statement. You know, like, these are the rules in God’s kingdom vs. the rules of earthly kingdoms. Jesus’s own followers wanted Him to be an earthly king, but He said, My kingdom is not of this world.”

            My mouth was agape as I stared at Inga. This young woman was bright! Why did she feel she couldn’t get a job and a more substantial place to live than a tent? She giggled at my astonished expression. “I may be homeless, but I’m not necessarily an idiot.”

            “No, I should say not.”

            “On the other hand, I don’t understand why it’s that big of a deal for you guys. I mean, isn’t shutting down one day of the week good for the environment? And also ensuring workers time with their families?”

            “That’s all well and good, but where the problems come in is with its progression. I assume you didn’t listen to the podcast that got Seven in trouble?”

            “No, I didn’t.”

            “He didn’t necessarily get in trouble for teaching the Biblical Sabbath. He got in trouble for pushing back on the talk of mandatory worship on Sunday. When he called it the mark of the beast, the powers that be called it hate speech.”

            “I thought the mark of the beast was a computer chip in your hand and even your forehead.”

            “A computer chip might play a role when it comes to the aspect of buying and selling. But the main characteristic of the mark of the beast has to do with worship. The mark in your hand represents what you do, and the forehead is in what you think. The test is over the ten commandments. A key verse is in Revelation 14:12. And the key commandment that is being disputed is the fourth, right in the middle of the Decalogue.”

            “What’s the Decalogue?”

            “It’s another word for the Ten Commandments.”

            “Weird. So you’re saying this whole issue with Sunday ordinances is the mark of the beast?”

            “Not just yet. That’s why Seven has been issuing warnings on his podcast. The business closures, limited travel, and suggestions of going to worship services was just the start. But now there are more and more calls by political and religious leaders to make Sunday worship mandatory. Capitulating to this is the mark of the beast in the fullest sense.”

            “What do you mean by ‘capitulating?’”

            “You know, giving in, surrendering to the demands. There are already several states on the verge of making, so called, worship of your choice mandatory, for the good of society, they say.”

            “Did this all start back when several states started putting the Ten Commandments back in schools?”

            “Good question! That did play a subtle roll in my opinion.”

            “I still don’t get it. The majority of Christians view Sunday as the Sabbath. How could so many be wrong?”

            “Biblically speaking, when has the majority ever been right? Were they right in Noah’s day? Were they right when Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-Nego refused to fall down and worship Nebuchadnezzar’s golden image? Were they right at Christ’s first advent, when there was no room at the in, and Jesus was born in a stable? Were they right when He was crucified?”

            “I see,” she said thoughtfully as she pondered these things.

            “Sunday posing as the sabbath really took off in the fourth century when Constantine made Christianity a legal religion. This church and state combination brought a lot of paganism into the church. Hence, the ‘Venerable Day of the Sun’ became prominent as the Christian sabbath. Just google venerable day of the sun or look up Sabbath truth. com.”

            I heard Inga’s stomach growl and recalled her say she was starving. She blushed because it was rather noticeable. “Oh, Honey, I’m sorry. Let’s get you some breakfast.”

            “No worries,” she said with a meek smile. “I’m used to being hungry.”

            As we made our way to the kitchen, I felt a lump in my throat, once again, at how her life must have been. As I made pancakes, I tried to extract some details about her life, but she did a masterful job of side stepping the questions with vague answers.

            When I put a tall pile of flapjacks onto the table, Seven emerged from the basement. He had a studio down there where he broadcasted his daily podcast. He declared, “Something smells good. Oh wow, pancakes for lunch?” “

            “It’s called brunch if it’s before eleven,” I said before giving him a quick kiss.

            “Suit yourself. But if it’s before eleven, but you get up before five, I call it lunch. So did you listen to my podcast?”

            “I started to,” I told him. “But then Inga and I got to talking.”

            He winced. “I think I might have pushed things with the thought police.”

            A few minutes later there was a knock on the door. As Seven aimed a fork full of pancake toward his mouth, he said, “I’ll get it.”

            I chuckled. “I’ll get it.”

            My heart skipped a beat, and my smile fell when I saw the two people standing on our stoop. One was Lieutenant Louis Lewis, and the other was Seven’s cousin Brock’s ex-girlfriend, FBI agent Nora Medora. Her face was blank, but her dark eyes cold. Triple Lou wore a stern expression as he said, “May we speak with Seven Sallie, please?”

BLACK SABBATH – PROLOUGE

Posted on by Johnathan Embers

BLACK SABBATH

PROLOUGE

LIEUTENANT LOUIS LEWIS

SOME TIME IN THE FUTURE

BLESSED IS HE WHO READS AND THOSE WHO HEAR THE WORDS OF THIS PROPHECY, AND KEEP THOSE THINGS WHICH ARE WRITTEN IN IT; FOR THE TIME IS NEAR (Revelation 1:3)

            I hated Seven Sallie when I arrested him his first time. Hauling him in was right up there with the most enjoyable moment I had ever had cuffing and stuffing someone. The temptation for brutality was strong. Yet during almost twenty years on the police force, the closest I had ever come to excessive force was simply a head shove into the backseat of a patrol car.

            Why did I hate him? We had opposing religious views; it was as simple as that. Oh yeah, I also thought he was arrogant. He also broke the law, and I was a law enforcer. Why was he arrested? The official charge was inciting people to violate the Sunday ordinance via his podcast. The reality? He was encouraging people to obey God rather than men. I just didn’t see it at the time.

            I felt like my dislike for Seven and people like him was righteous indignation. It turned out that it was unrighteous hostility. The second time he was arrested, I refused to take part and was put on administrative leave. The third time he was arrested, I was arrested alongside him, losing my job in the process. The Sunday ordinance had become a law. Worship on Sunday was now mandatory. There were those pushing for the death penalty.

            Sentenced to death for keeping the Biblical Sabbath instead of Sunday? You might be asking this question and find the concept outrageous. I was a skeptic myself until I witnessed the whole thing transpire. The once despised Seven Sallie became something like a Bible hero for me. But rather than one of the characters or writers from sacred scripture, he was a teacher, an expounder of Bible truths that were hidden in plain sight.

            So how did he become one of my favorite people on the planet? It sure didn’t happen overnight. But the first changing of direction came when I discovered, after arresting him, that his wife was my estranged cousin. In fact, it was because of her that I ended up with my first name being Louis, while my last name is Lewis. But it wasn’t her fault.

            She is three months older than me, and my mother thought it was cute when her parents, whose last name was LaStella, named their baby girl Zella. Uereka! Why don’t we name our baby boy Louis? They did this not realizing how many times I would have to hear my name sung throughout my life. You probably guessed the song, ‘Louie, Louie.’

            As a teenager, my cousin Zella LaStella became the black sheep of our rather conservative, pious family. She hooked up with a cocaine snorting, pot smoking, wanta be rapper. They went to the west coast. He planned on being a rock star, and she planned on being a super model.

            Zella was and still is beautiful. With her flawless ebony complexion, high cheek bones, and sultry dark eyes, she had the qualifications for gracing the cover of fashion magazines. Instead she ended up naked on the pages of men’s magazines and the screens of websites.

            Her wanta be rapper boyfriend ended up a bust, and an abuser. After snorting and smoking away all his money, he wanted to pimp her out. Fortunately she was able to escape his clutches with the help of her friend Willa Waconia, a fellow erotic model. The pair of pals fled back to the Midwest and bought a house together.

            But Zella still didn’t get into good graces with the family just yet. Although she opened a health store in the large Victorian house, it was a well-known secret on the police force that the store also worked as a front for Willa to operate a form of prostitution in the basement. Ironic since Zella had escaped from a man who had tried to make her a lady of the evening.

            But Willa was careful and smart, and we were never able to get enough on her to make a raid. She catered to men of means who were into being put into submission. That’s all I will say, as we are trying to be family friendly.

            But Willa met a fine young man named Billy Bob Booker. He was on his way to Godly living and brought her along with. Also ironic, they met through her occupation as a hooker. But just to be clear, he wanted her to accompany him to a wedding, nothing sexual involved other than her being his arm candy.

            Long story short, she closed up shop and became a Christian convert. She and Billy eventually became a couple. Through this association, my cousin Zella met Seven Sallie. Although I was delighted to find out she had turned her life around, I was disappointed it was through, what I thought back then, was fanatical religious extremists.

            I didn’t understand what Zella saw in Seven, other than he looked like he could be brother to George Clooney. But what some saw as charming, I found to be smarmy. His declaration as truth, I believed to be error. When he was arrested, some found him to be stoic. Whereas I thought him to be grandstanding.

            The day after I took part in his arrest, I paid a visit to my cousin Zella. After a half hearted apology for arresting her husband, she reluctantly forgave me. After declaring I was just doing my job, she replied that many Nazi’s felt that way also. It irritated me to be sure. But in hindsight, point well taken.

            Then she did something that was the beginning of my turn around. She presented me with a Bible and asked me to show her where they were in error. Although I attended church weekly, I rarely cracked the Bible. I snorted. “Do I look like a preacher?”

            She smirked. “Do I?”

            Then she pulled a piece of paper from her Bible and rattled off a dozen scriptures dealing with the Sabbath. The one that really hit home the most was the last one she read from Isaiah 66:23. It infers that the Sabbath will be kept in heaven.

            “So why?” she asked patiently. “Would we keep Sunday, as you say, in honor of the resurrection? Then once in heaven go back to the Sabbath God instituted at Creation? I believe we get baptized in honor of the resurrection.”

            I didn’t have an answer and felt like a dog with its tail between his legs. But I was incensed. I went home and dusted off my Bible and concordance. I set out to prove her wrong. Instead I began to find way more proof that she was right.

            Over the next several months, I began to search the scriptures daily, like the noble Bereans (Acts 17:11). Usually I studied for a half hour to forty-five minutes. Sometimes more than an hour. I also began to pray with more frequency.

            I finally got to the point where I conceded that Zella, Seven Sallie and his cohorts were right. I finally admitted to myself that I had been believing for doctrines, the commandments of men (Matthew 15:9).

            God woke me up just in time! The world turned to utter chaos shortly thereafter. There was war all around the world. There were false revivals, false prophets, Satan himself appeared as an angel of light. (See 2 Corinthians 11:13-15)

            But there was also the latter rain, a pouring out of the Holy Spirit on the people who followed Jesus. This was followed, as it were, by a loud cry. Many heard the message of truth! Thousands were converted in a day!

            This was followed by a little time of trouble. The faithful were threatened with death. Then this little time of trouble escalated to the great time of trouble. There was tribulation like the world had never seen (Matthew 24:21)

            There was a death decree. Many of God’s people, Seven Sallie and myself included, were put on death row. God helped us escape! The seven last plagues fell. But those of us that kept the commandments of God and had the faith of Jesus (Revelation 14:12) were protected from them.

            On a night appointed for slaughter, deliverance came at midnight!