BLACK SABBATH – CHAPTER 20

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

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 14

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 2

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

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!

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES – PART 2 – CHAPTER 20

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES

PART 2

CHAPTER 20

ARLO ALDO

THE LORD YOUR GOD IN YOUR MIDST, THE MIGHTY ONE, WILL SAVE; HE WILL REJOICE OVER YOU WITH GLADNESS, HE WILL QUIET YOU WITH HIS LOVE, HE WILL REJOICE OVER YOU WITH SINGING. (Zephaniah 3:17)

            When Nancy and Drew arrived back in Iowa, it was on the back of my son’s mind to read Izzy’s suicide note. What he wasn’t expecting to read was a goodbye note from the woman he was supposed to marry. My normally even keel son was angry, and I felt his rebuke keenly when he slapped down her note on my kitchen table.

            “My Dearest Andrew,” Nancy’s note began. “I’ve never loved anyone more deeply in my life than you. Yet I never felt worthy of you. Recently you convinced me that I am in fact worthy, not only of your love, but of God’s. Thank you for introducing me to my Lord and Savior. However, I cannot join your family without your father’s blessing. Even if he were to recant, he made his true feelings known. When you read this I will be on my way back to California to stay with my mother for a while and hopefully, prayerfully get some direction for my life.  I’m sorry for this act of cowardice in giving you a Dear John letter instead of telling you in person. But to be perfectly honest, it would have been too painful. I know you will do great things in life. Please forgive me for breaking your heart but believe me when I say mine is even more shattered. With all my love, Nancy.”

            The paper rattled in my trembling fingers and my own heart broke when I saw the pain in my son’s countenance. I said, “I truly did recant.”

            “Too late, she’s gone,” he replied icily.

            “Not quite,” my wife said as she briskly walked into the kitchen.

            A couple of minutes earlier as I made my way to the breakfast table, she had ignored my greeting of  ‘good morning’ as she glared at me. I had hoped her coldness was due to her not being a morning person and her silence because of the phone to her ear.

            As she grabbed her purse she said, “I was just informed by Destiny Knight-Storm that Nancy spent the night with Sevenia Sallie. I’m gonna convince her that my blessing cancels out your idiocy.”

            “I’m coming with,” Drew declared passionately.

            “No,” I barked as I stood.  “You’re right. I was a complete idiot…”

            “Ya think!” my wife interjected fiercely.

            “No, apparently I don’t think very well. That’s how I created this mess.”

            “I’m coming with,” Drew repeated.

            “I am too,” my wife insisted. Then she added, “In case I have to pull your great big foot out of your mouth.”

            We were greeted at the door by Seven Sallie, Sevenia’s father. His eyebrows rose at the sight of our eager trio looking for admittance to his home. I told him the reason why we were standing on his doorstep.

            “My daughter took Nancy to the airport about a half hour ago,” he informed us.

            I had only met Seven a couple times before our encounter on his stoop. He, his wife Zella, and Sevenia went to a sister church of ours on the other side of the Cedar Rapids metropolitan area. He was a podcaster, well known as a religious liberty activist.

            After we apologized and turned to walk away, my wife with clenched jaw did one of those sideways kicks and the side of her foot smacked me on the seat of my pants. As I clutched my behind, my son normally would have laughed at something like this. But instead his gaze was somber as he stared at the sidewalk in front of him.

            I heard the bling of a phone, and after a few seconds, Seven calling after us. “I just got a text from Sevenia. Nancy missed her flight, and they are on their way back here.”

            When the two young ladies returned, Nancy looked surprised at the little group waiting to meet her. Remembering what had transpired between my wife and herself not all that long ago; I repeated the method my wife used in seeking her forgiveness.

            I knelt in front of Nancy, took one of her hands in both of mine. “Nancy, please forgive me. I know in the note you said that even if I recanted that I had made my true feelings known. But that is not the case. True, I was shocked to find out Izzy was your father. And in that shock I responded like a superstitious fool. But in the aftermath I was rebuked by the Holy Spirit. And it is the Spirit that matters, not the flesh. I fully believe God orchestrated your relationship with my son. If you refuse to marry him, I will have to live with the biggest mistake of my life.”

            “Even bigger than joining ‘The Sons of Molech’?” she asked with a little smile. That little grin told me everything I needed to know.

            I grinned back. “I’m gonna have to say yes. I was a foolish kid who didn’t know any better back then. But when Drew and I talked on the phone the other day, I should have known better. So what do you say? Do you forgive me?”

            Nancy knelt in front of me, hugged me, kissed my cheek and said, “Yes.”

THE END

WRITER’S NOTE

            A bit of a strange coincidence has occurred that I’ll get to in a bit. After doing 20 chapters of Heavy Metal Miracles Part 1. It was a goal of mine to do 20 chapters of part 2. Then my plan was to begin a new story, coming full circle from the start of this blog, by using its namesake, Seven Sallie, once again.

            So a couple months ago when I was thinking and praying about what direction to go next, I felt compelled to write about a scenario based on the last piece of the Biblical prophetic puzzle to be fulfilled. In particular, the mark of the beast. Many think that the mark of the beast is a literal chip in your hand and forehead. Who knows, maybe that will be a small factor. But the main characteristic of the mark of the beast is your behavior. What you think (forehead) and what you do (Hand).

            This last piece of the prophetic puzzle actually has to do with the law of God, the Ten Commandments. In particular the fourth commandment, right in the middle, the Sabbath. Which, contrary to popular belief, is the seventh day of the week, not the first. The seventh day is Biblical, the first day, or Sunday was created by man. Most prominently by Emperor Constantine in the fourth century AD.

            What role will the Sabbath play in the last days you might ask? At some point, possibly in the near future, there will be a push for Sunday laws. There have already been summits between political, religious, and environmental leaders about implementing “green Sundays.” A day of the week for the planet to rest. There has also been a push for the Ten Commandments in the classroom. Not necessarily a bad thing, but it is, however, a subtle joining of church and state.

            At first it will likely be business closures that will ultimately evolve into mandatory worship. The question is what exactly will transpire to bring this about? Will it be war? Even a possible WW III? Will it be economic? Something of a supernatural or miraculous nature? And also how long between simple closures and mandatory worship? All this only God knows, so ultimately we are in good hands.

            If you have followed my blog for any length of time, you have already read about some of these prophetic occurrences that have taken place in history. Prophecy has mostly been fulfilled. It is not something off in the future with a secret rapture to take place first. If you want to learn about who the anti-Christ is and what the mark of the beast is, I suggest looking up one of my favorite presentations. David Asscherick’s ‘Five Good Reasons’ series on YouTube. Or probably the most popular preacher who holds the correct Biblical interpretation is Doug Batchelor, President of ‘Amazing Facts’ ministry. He too is easily found on YouTube.

            It has been my desire to write a futuristic tale of what I imagine could possibly happen. That said, I’ve never done a futuristic story before in all of my writing endeavors. Also, because the Bible teaches we don’t know the day or the hour of Christ’s second coming (Matthew 24:26), I am in no way at all predicting His second coming, or when exactly all of this will go down.

            But I will say this. I believe a secret rapture is Biblically false. I’m actually baffled by popular religious leaders, some of them with the title of doctor, claiming such theology. The rapture theory is not even two hundred years old, and you will not find the word rapture anywhere in the Bible.

            Yet most who boldly preach such a false teaching belittle the Sabbath which was established at Creation. (See Genesis 2:2:3) Then WRITTEN IN STONE in the Ten Commandments. (See Exodus 20:8-11 and Deuteronomy 5:12-15). The Sabbath is the sign and seal of God that recognizes Him as not only as our Creator but also our Redeemer. By the way, the sign and seal of God is the opposite of the mark of the beast.

            We are saved by grace modern religious leaders say. One hundred percent true! Therefore we don’t need to keep the law, they say. One hundred percent false! (See Romans 6:15 for one example) So which one is okay to break, Doctor’s of Theology? Is it okay to worship idols? Is it okay to steal? Is it okay to lie? Is it okay to cheat on your wife? No, of course not! The one problem most religionists have with the ten is the fourth. The Sabbath. The one that acknowledges Him as our Creator and Redeemer.

            The dark ages are over, and we can all read the Bible for ourselves. The small percentage of us that actually study it every day, with prayerful guidance from the Holy Spirit can see that the law of God is perfect, converting the soul! (See Psalm 19:7).

            So, to sum this up and explain the coincidence I mentioned. The following idea for the next story I have been thinking about and even discussed with several close friends months ago, was and is going to be called ‘Black Sabbath’. God as my witness, I had this planned before the passing of Ozzy Osbourne last week. May God be with his family as they grieve their loss!

            One more thing. I have a day job, so if you have any theological questions, please contact the ministries I have previously mentioned. Plus a couple more suggestions. ‘It Is Written’ with John Bradshaw and Shawn Boonstra, Amazing Discoveries, or 3ABN.

            Thank you for your interest!   

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES – PART 2 – CHAPTER 9

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES

PART 2

CHAPTER 9

DREW

“THE LORD IS MY PORTION,” SAYS MY SOUL, “THEREFORE I HOPE IN HIM.” (Lamentations 3:24)

            “The man who impregnated my mother,” Nancy began quietly with her hands pressed between her knees as we sat across from each other in the living room of her apartment. She was perched on the edge of a velvety blue chair, while I was in the middle of her sofa.

            I knew she meant her father. It also occurred to me that this was the first time in our decade of knowing each other that she had acknowledged male parentage. Not once had I ever heard her mention a dad or father in reference to herself. This also led me to suspect that she was abused by a father figure in some fashion. What I didn’t suspect were the next words to come out of her mouth.

            “He used me in making pornography,” she told me, barely audible.

            Like an idiot I almost asked her to repeat what she said. But thankfully I stopped myself. “You mean before you and your mom moved to Iowa?”

            She nodded.

            “You were only eight when you moved here.”

            She nodded again, and her breathing became rapid. She pressed her hands so hard between her knees I thought she might crush her fingers.

            “Did your mom know?” I asked gently.

            “Not until… After she found out, that’s when we came here.”

            “Did she have him arrested?”

            “She didn’t know about what he was doing until he was arrested.” Nancy actually gained some composure, arose, and began to slowly pace as she hugged herself. “Give me a minute.”

            My instinct was to rise and take her into my arms. But I got the feeling she would demand to not be touched. “Nancy, I’d like to hug you, but I get the feeling you don’t want to be touched right now.”

            She smiled sadly, her eyes filling with tears. “You mean I’m not too disgusting?”

            “Never!” I insisted, as I stood.

            She took hold of my hand. “So you see, Drew, I lost my virginity when I was only six or seven years old. Besides me not being in harmony with your spiritual beliefs, I’ve been not only horribly defiled… I get afraid of intimacy.”

            “What happened wasn’t your fault.”

            She snorted. “Yeah, I’ve been told that by every therapist I’ve been to. But that never gave me my hymen back.”

            “You’re a virgin in God’s eyes.”

            She snorted again. “That’s doubtful since He watched it happen, since He let it happen.”

            I felt that now wasn’t the time for a discourse on apologetics. It was a time for Nancy to get this heavy burden off of her shoulders. But she had said before that she wanted what I had. By that, whether she knew it or not, it was the peace only God can give.

            “Aren’t you gonna defend Him?” she asked with a bit of bitterness in her tone.

            “I think we both blame two different enemies.”

            She frowned. “I don’t understand.”

            “It’s simple. You blame God, while I blame Satan.”

            “Well, you refer to your God as the Creator, right?”

            “Of course.”

            “Then He’s the one ultimately responsible.”

            I offered up a quick silent prayer that the Holy Spirit would enlighten me with what Nancy needed me to say to her. Then I tried to give a brief explanation about the great controversy between Christ and Satan. I told her about the war in heaven, which I believe was a war of ideologies, not war as we know it as mortals on this fallen planet.

            I asked for her Bible and shared texts of scripture that told of Lucifer’s fall. Lucifer being Satan’s name before he was banished from heaven. I recited portions from Isaiah chapter 14, Ezekiel chapter 28, and Revelation chapter 12 that related to this fall that had a dramatic effect on the world we live in. Then I shared scriptures that suggested Satan has a great deal of power in this fallen world. John 12:31, 14:30, 16:11, and 2 Corinthians 4:4 to name a few.

            Nancy quietly listened. I gave her a minute to absorb what I told her. Then I cautiously asked, “Do you believe Jesus is God?”

            “I tend to believe that,” she replied mechanically. “What to believe about him? That I don’t know.”

            “Can I tell you how he can relate to what you experienced? How he was horribly abused Himself.”

            Her eyes flashed with hot anger, then cooled as she said, “Go ahead.”

            I started by reading Isaiah chapter 53 regarding the prophecies about the coming Messiah. By the time I got to verse seven, her eyes were softening. Then I told her very graphic details  about what happened to Jesus before He even suffered the excruciating pain of crucifixion. His mental anguish in Gethsemane where He sweet blood (Luke 22:44).”

            Her eyes had a look of both pain and wonder. “How come I never knew this when I read the Bible cover to cover? I just came away thinking, especially how God in portrayed in the Old Testament, that God is violent, vengeful, and just lets bad stuff happen.”

            “The way I see it, even now one generation can’t relate to the next. So how can we fathom society and cultures thousands of years ago? I simply trust that God is good, perfect in judgement, and righteous. Also, after studying the loving, compassionate, and sacrificial life of Jesus,  He declared that if you have seen Him, you have seen the Father (John 14:9).”

            I gave her a moment to absorb this. Then I continued to explain why Jesus can relate to victims of abuse. He was spit upon, His beard plucked, and His flesh whipped into a bloody mass of lacerations. All the while having the power to stop it by calling twelve legions of angels. On top this, it was all this instigated by religious leaders.

            I could tell Nancy was finding hope in God. But then the rulers of the darkness of this age showed up. Spiritual hosts of wickedness from heavenly places. I had on the whole armor of God, but would it be enough to cover Nancy as well? (See Ephesians 6:10-20). How much of God’s Word had she absorbed?

            There was a rattle at the door. Nancy looked with a confused countenance. I heard the bolt lock slide, and in came Addison Dressler, Nancy’s roommate.

            “Addie, I told you I had a date… I mean a guest tonight and needed the apartment to myself until at least nine.”

            It was a few minutes after eight, and Addie, as she was typically called, was clearly drunk. She said, “Well, I was thinking, my dear. Your guest needs a little test.”

            After Nancy ended our friendship early in our high school career, she seemed to have replaced me with Addie. She was a big girl, just over six foot, and not fat at all. She had been a superb athlete until a nagging rotator cuff injury diminished her prowess. Although she had been popular, she had the nickname among many of the male population as Amazon Addie.

            She had shiny black hair that was usually pulled back into a ponytail, and intense gray eyes. She was quite pretty and made me think of an angry Courtney Cox from ‘Friends’ fame. After her injury during a basketball game her senior year, her popularity declined. She was no longer wowing spectators in gymnasiums. Couple that with her close friendship with Nancy, still very much a Tomboy, and the rumors ran that they were more than friends. That only escalated when they went to the same college and moved into this apartment together.

            Nancy looked at me with a confused frown, then back at Addie. “What kind of a test?”

            Addie reached behind her back and pulled a gun from the waistband of her jeans. Staring at me as if we were sporting opponents, she pointed the gun at my face. Nancy wasn’t prone to screaming or panicking. So she simply barked. “Addie, what do you think you’re doing!”

            “Shut up and watch!” Then she demanded from me. “Deny your faith, Andrew! Tell Nancy that your God and your Bible are nothing more than myths and superstitions.”

            Although adrenalized, I felt surprisingly calm for having an unstable person aim a gun between my eyes. It was the power of the Holy Spirit, AKA the Comforter. The tune, ‘Stand up, stand up for Jesus’ began to play in my head as I boldly declared, “Never!”

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES – CHAPTER 16

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES

CHAPTER 16

ARIEL

BEHOLD, NOW IS THE ACCEPTED TIME; BEHOLD, NOW IS THE DAY OF SALVATION (2 Corinthians 6:2)

            It was the day after I accused Eli of impregnating me, and he suggested marriage. Band practice had ended ten minutes ago. I had just returned from the restroom after an emotional breakdown as the last song they played concluded. My mental turmoil was both positive and negative.

            The song was an acoustic cover by the band Pearl Jam. They said it was called something like ‘Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town.’ Why the long, strange title, I didn’t know. But the song moved me in an unexpected way. Whether my interpretation of the lyrics were correct or not, I don’t know. But it spoke to me of former young lovers reacquainted many years later.

            Eli and Arlo played acoustic guitars, while Ethan displayed his deep rich voice. Amy, the band’s drummer, sat next to me with her daughter on her lap. The song made me think about Eli reentering my life after a two decade absence. But then the last refrain that my son sang soft and melodious several times went ‘Hearts and thoughts they fade, fade away.’

            This part made me think of the passing of my second husband half a year earlier. That’s when I lost it. But it was not only grief, but guilt. How had I moved on so quickly? Was it Eli back in my life? Was it the fact that during both of my marriages, I loved, but wasn’t in love with both of my husbands? What was the defining line? What was it about Eli that bound my heart to him so much stronger than the two men I was actually married to?

             Ethan, Amy, Penny, and Arlo were sitting around a card table, probably in deep discussion about this coming Saturday. The four were going to be baptized, and Penny and Arlo were to be married afterward.

            On the other side of the large room, Eli gave our little five year old granddaughter Crissy a lesson on her small acoustic guitar. Her little tongue stuck out from between her lips as she concentrated, following Eli’s instructions. He was so patient with her and eyed her adorningly as she strummed.

            She spotted me watching her and said, “Look, Gammy.”

            “I see, Sweety.”

            “Do you think I’m good?”

            “I think you’re wonderful!”

            Eli looked at me with a twinkle in his eye, and I felt that heart flutter that no other guy had ever given me. Was it because he always seemed so elusive? I was even more drawn to this forty year old version of Eli than the seventeen year old version.

            Whereas the teenager was cocky, cool, turning girl’s heads with his macho strut and long flowing mane of dark hair, the current Eli was distinguished, like an aging movie star. He was gentle, relaxed, and surprisingly humble.

            Another thing that had changed about him was his world view. When we would talk into the night as teenagers, he would express teenage angst and atheism. I would counter with God’s love. In particular the fact that God became one of us in the person of Jesus Christ.

            Fast forward two decades and Eli was not only is expressing love for God but parroting, what I then perceived, as legalism via the influence of his old, dear friend, Arlo Aldo. Who would have thought that the former bass player from ‘The Sons of Molech’, who looked like a professional wrestler, would also be able to sway my sister?

            Penny was smart, rational, and had graduated at the top of every phase in her academic career. She was a doctor and a successful, gifted veterinarian surgeon. But now she was joining what I had viewed at the time as a Saturday cult. Why a cult? Well, the majority can’t be wrong, right? I mean, ninety plus percent of Christians view Sunday as the sabbath, don’t they?

            The foursome being baptized in a few days stood and held hands. Arlo was about to lead them in prayer, and he invited Eli and me to join. Eli accepted, but I initially made no reply. Eli joined them, and the chain of arms and hands accumulated one more link.

            I tried to gather my granddaughter onto my upper legs as sort of a human security blanket. But as I tried to gather the little energy bundle onto my lap, she squirmed away and petitioned, “Can I pray too?”

            “Of course you can, Sweet Pea!” Arlo said delightedly.

            Feeling left out, I gave in. “Can I pray too?”

            “Of course,” Arlo replied happily.

            “Aren’t you gonna call me, Sweet Pea?”

            Arlo grinned. “I’ll leave that to Eli.”

            I blushed and glanced at Eli. Everyone in the circle knew I was with child. They also knew the embryo was created in sin. Yet Arlo asked for a blessing upon my unborn child and me. Then he followed by asking the same for Amy and Penny, who also were pregnant. As he  finished the prayer, he asked God to be with all those getting baptized, and to be with anyone who might be on the fence. I thought this was directed at Eli, and I felt a flash of annoyance at Arlo for what seemed like presumptuous zeal.

            After the prayer ended, Eli and I lingered in the parking lot, and it wasn’t long before we found ourselves alone. He leaned against his truck and pulled me into a reverse hug. As we admired the night sky, bright with being only two days past a full moon, I expressed my irritation with Arlo. But typical of cool and calm Eli, he simply shrugged, and an easy smile played on his lips. “My old pal is just worried about my soul.”

            “And you’re not?”

            “Sure I am. One of the Bible verses I have memorized is Philippians 2:12. Work out your salvation with fear and trembling.”

            “It doesn’t seem like you fear and tremble over much.”

            “If you only knew,” he chuckled. “It’s easy to keep it together when you’re not alone. But you don’t realize how many nightmares I have had and still have over my association with occultists. The guilt over all the impressionable minds our band influenced.”

            “Is that why you’re not getting baptized with the rest of them?”

            “That and you.”

            I stepped out of his embrace, spun and looked at him. “Me? You mean because of…”

            “Fornicating,” he finished.

            My jaw clenched and my eyes narrowed. “Well just so you know, Mister, we’re done fornicating. You putting a bun in my oven was the rebuke I needed for giving in to sin.”

            “Hey, you opened the oven door, and your warmth drew me in.”

            “Well, this oven door is staying shut from now on.”

            “So marry me and lets start a bakery.”

            “This is the last loaf of bread coming out of this oven.”

            “I agree that we don’t need any more loaves of bread, but we can still bake, though.”

            I crossed my arms and kept a steady gaze on him. I didn’t want him to know just how close I was to accepting his offer of marriage. Plus, I really did want to turn my oven on again, metaphorically speaking.

            I shifted the subject away from loaves of bread and how they are made. “So these nightmares you speak of. Did they happen to Arlo too?”

            “Some, but when he became a Christian, they subsided. More than the rest of us in the band, Arlo was the most uncomfortable with the satanic imagery and the dark lyrics. But, like me, he justified it by telling himself it was just an act and that we were similar to Alice Cooper. Which I suppose we were similar. But it became harder to deny that Izzy, our singer and writer of lyrics, was in fact a satanist who was obsessed with Aleister Crowley.

            “Couple that with the fact that both Izzy and our drummer Kyle were spiraling downward in their drug and alcohol addictions. I had my own problems that way, but I still functioned. Then when they both died, it was a wakeup call for me to get sober as well. Once sober, I was impressed with how Arlo changed his life.”

            “Was Arlo steeped in addiction as well?” I asked.

            “No. Oh, he partied plenty throughout the years, but he was never a daily drinker. And never did drugs, other than an occasional joint.”

            “So it was Arlo’s conversion that led you to become a seeker as well?”

            “That and something he said that you had said when we were kids.”

            This took me by surprise. “Something I said?”

            “Yeah, you probably don’t remember. I was talking about the meaninglessness of life…”

            “You did that a lot,” I interrupted.

            He chuckled. “Yeah, but this time you said, if life had no meaning, we wouldn’t know that it had no meaning. That stuck with me. In the aftermath of Kyle and Izzy’s deaths, Arlo and I were talking. Although I was impressed by Arlo quitting the band and changing his life, I wasn’t convinced enough to do the same. I was half drunk and told Arlo that life was meaningless. When he replied with the same exact words as yours, I sobered. Literally, I went into rehab the next day, and Arlo gave me a copy of the book he got quote from.”

            “C.S. Lewis’s  book ‘Mere Christianity,’” I told him.

            “That’s it,” he replied happily.

            “So reading that made you became an Arloite?” I said, trying to sound lighthearted rather than cynical.

            “An Arloite?” he laughed. “No, it didn’t. I still couldn’t get past one doctrine, and you might recall what that was. You and I went round and round over this topic more than anything else.”

            “Hellfire,” I replied immediately. It had always been a bit of a stumbling block for me as well. I always thought that by faith we would learn in heaven how a loving God could torment even the most wicked with no end.

            “Precisely,” Eli returned. “After Arlo began studying material from ‘Amazing Facts’ ministry. (Amazing Facts is a real ministry. You can google them or find them on YouTube.) The first Bible study I did with him was on the subject of hell. Hellfire is more like an event rather than a place.”

            “As much as I hate to, I beg to differ. The book of Matthew, chapter 25 clearly says that the wicked go to everlasting punishment.”

            “Correct, punishment, not punishing. Romans 6:23 tells us that the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus. I think you’d agree that the wicked don’t inherit eternal life, so how could they be alive in hell forever and ever? Also, the book of Jude, verse 7 refers to Sodom and Gomorrah suffering eternal fire. But let me ask you. Are Sodom and Gomorrah still burning today?”

            “Well, no, of course not.”

            Eli retrieved a Bible from his truck. He pulled a piece of paper from it, and unfolding it read. “This is the main note I took on the subject. Does the word hell as used in the Bible always refer to a place of burning? No. The word hell is used 54 times in the KJV Bible, and in only 12 cases does it refer to a place of burning. It is translated from several different words with various meanings. 31 times from Sheol, which means the grave. 10 times from Hades, which also means the grave. 12 times from Gehenna, which means the place of burning. 1 time from Tartarus, which means a place of darkness.”

            “Look at you, Mr. Bible scholar,” I said, dumbfounded, yet truly impressed. I also felt guilty for participating in intimacy without the commitment of marriage.

            “I’ll read one more note I took on the subject,” he said and then grinned. “Then I’ll stop boring you with my Biblical acumen.”

            “I’m not bored.”

            “Then why does your face look like you’ve been driving hours down a long desert highway?”

            “Because I’m stunned to be getting a Bible lesson from Eli Endor.”

            “Alderson,” he corrected with a slight edge to his voice. “Endor was a stage name, never ever my real name.”

            “Sorry,” I said, making my eyes wide and innocent.

            “Just setting the record straight, Sweet Pea Senior.”

            I giggled. “Okay, finish your lesson.”

            “Here’s a list of scriptures that indicate the wicked are destroyed, not tormented forever and ever in hell. Romans 6:23, the wicked suffer death. Job 21:30, they suffer doom, in other words, destruction. Psalm 37:20, they will perish. Malachi 4:1, will burn up. Psalm 37:28, will be destroyed. Psalm 37:20, will vanish away. Psalm 37:9, will be cut off. Psalm 62:3, will be slain. Psalm 145:20, God will destroy them. Psalm 21:9, fire will devour them.”

            He looked at me. “One more thing. Ezekiel 33:11 says that God has no pleasure in the death of the wicked. And Isaiah 28:21 says that the destroying of the wicked is a strange act for God.”

            My head was spinning when I went to bed that night. It is said God works in mysterious ways, and I never realized that more than that night. Eli had always moved me carnally. Even when I spotted him in a rock and roll magazine. Even as I despised him on those glossy pages, I thought of him as sexy, ridiculous goth get up and all. But since he had reentered my life the previous autumn, he had been moving me more spiritually than carnally. For the most part.

            The Spirit moving the people I loved to get baptized this weekend was like a personal, mini day of Pentecost for me from Acts chapter 2. Only instead of three thousand people being added to the church, four were being added to Cotton Creek Cove Fellowship. I was convinced I needed to make it five. With a phone call to Eli, possibly six.

            In my excitement of feeling spiritually drawn away from the present world, I didn’t consider the time. It was very early in the morning when I heard the alarm in Eli’s voice. “Ariel, what’s wrong!”

            “Nothing’s wrong, Eli,” I said and then cringed. “It’s late, isn’t it?”

            “Or early,” he replied mildly. “Depends on your perspective. So what’s up?”

            He was hard guy to rattle, I have never known a more laid back, go with flow person in my life.

            “You know when we parted ways last night, you decided you that you might just get baptized.”

            “Yeah,” he replied, and I’m pretty sure he yawned.

            “Will you get baptized if I do too, you know this…” I referred to Saturday this way for the first time. “Sabbath?”

            “Really?” he answered, and I could tell he perked up. “Sure, I mean, yeah, yes.”

            I giggled. “One more thing. Do you think Penny and Arlo would object to making it a double wedding? I mean, I know Penny wouldn’t, what about Arlo?”

            I think I heard him sitting up in bed. “No, I don’t think he’d object at all. As a matter fact, when we ask, he’ll probably pick you up, spin you around and yell ‘Yee Ha!’”

            I laughed and then felt happy tears on my cheeks. “Good.”

            “Good,” he repeated, and I could visualize his sexy smile when he said, “Well I ain’t getting back to sleep tonight, but sleepless will have never been more worth it!”

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES – CHAPTER 10

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES

CHAPTER 10

PENNY

  BEHOLD I STAND AT THE DOOR AND KNOCK. IF ANYONE HEARS MY VOICE AND OPENS THE DOOR, I WILL COME IN TO HIM AND DINE WITH HIM, AND HE WITH ME. (Revelation 3:20)

            “So Penny, what was going on with you and Arlo last night?” my sister demanded with hands on her hips.

            “So Ariel, what was going on with you and Eli last night?” I replied, mimicking her hands on hips.

            She folded her arms over her chest, lifting her chin. “I asked first.”

            “Give me a break, what, are we kids again fighting over a doll?”

            “You didn’t play with dolls.”

            “I did so.”

            “Yeah, only to play doctor with them.”

            “And what did I become?”

            She snorted a laugh. “Eli and I were simply reminiscing of our time as teenagers. It was an innocent, nostalgic look at the stars.”

            “Yeah? As he hugged you from behind?”

            “It was cold. Now what about you and Arlo in a lip lock and a tight embrace?”

            “It was a friendly kiss.”

            “On the lips? I’ve never kissed a friend, male or female on the lips.”

            “Well, I guess I’m friendlier than you.”

            She laughed menacingly. “Yeah, Penny, ‘I hate people.’ Baldwin is friendlier than me.”

            I sighed and sat down behind my desk. We were in my office at the clinic I shared with two other vets. I was tired. Abby, our best assistant, quit with less than two weeks notice. Yet, I understood her situation, and we parted on good terms. The night before I slept poorly due to the uncertainty of Arlo’s  and my relationship. Then twenty minutes before my sister arrived, I lost a family’s beloved Cocker Spaniel.

            Although I had warned them it was a long shot, and although I try to stay detached from defeats in veterinarian practice, the moment had worn me down. I couldn’t stop a couple tears from my eyes. I whimpered, “I’m in love with Arlo.”

            “Oh Sweety,” my sister replied, pulling up a chair next to me, and taking one of my hands. My sister was a very empathetic person. She was right about me having a hard time liking people, although hate was too strong of a description. I think anyway. So just as a yawn often causes another person to yawn, my tears produced tears to emit from Ariel’s eyes. “Isn’t Arlo seeing Abby, though?”

            “That’s what I was talking to him about.”

            “And?”

            “When Arlo first showed up in town, he was hanging out with both Abby and me. But he had the Bible in common with Abby, and nothing is more important to him. I was jealous, and knew he and I had chemistry. So four months ago I seduced him… And it worked.”

            Ariel’s large brown eyes became even larger, and her mouth gaped in surprise. She whispered, “You and Arlo had… Sex?”

            I cringed, the word sex never sounded dirtier. But I didn’t feel that way about the passion between Arlo and me that night. So I declared, “We made love.”

            “I don’t get it, he’s so devout. He makes such a big deal about what day a person worships on. Yet he fornicates outside of the bonds of marriage?”

            “It’s not like that Ariel. All have sinned. He was devastated. He even tried to flee right before we, you know…”

            “You mean you had to talk him into it?” She frowned. Her words and expression made me feel like a tramp.

            “Let’s just say I persuaded him.”

            “How?”

            “Well sister, I may not be as striking as you, but I can still be rather sexy.”

            “Me more striking? Hardly! I’ve always been envious of how you can still look lovely even when you’re dressed more like a guy.”

            “I’ve always been envious of…” I pointed at her chest.

            “And I’ve always been envious of your perfect legs.”

            “Okay, we’re a couple hot sisters,” I said. But then becoming uncomfortable with the beginnings of a love fest, I teased, “Despite you being in your forties now.”

            “Yeah, well you’re not far behind,” she grinned. Then she grew serious. “So, after your night with Arlo, what happened?”

            “Nothing,” I shrugged. “I felt terrible that he felt terrible. I also knew that Abby had a thing for him, and that they were better suited for each other, so I stayed out of the way. Besides, I found it highly unlikely that Arlo would give into temptation again. And at the time I was mostly interested in him physically.”

            “So why did Abby give him a Dear John letter then?”

            “She confided in me that Arlo didn’t reciprocate her feelings for him. Also that he asked about me on a regular basis. Then last week she asked me about the few times I hung out with Arlo. I told her I began to avoid him so she could be free to win his heart. My seemingly selfless act moved her. So now she has switched things up so I could be free to be with Arlo.”

            “By the looks of last night it would seem that you are.”

            “It’s complicated. Due to religious convictions, we would have to be married before we would, um, well, you know…”

            “Have sex?”

            “Make love.”

            “Apples and oranges, my dear. So let me ask you this. How come you’re so willing to fornicate? Are all the times I’ve seen you in church just for Mom’s benefit?”

            “In all honesty, pleasing Mom plays a big part. But I’m also a seeker, and sanctification is a process that is the work of a lifetime. Besides, like you always say, we’re saved by grace.”

            “That doesn’t mean we’re free to do whatever we want.”

            “Oh really? So let me get this straight. It would be a sin for me to fornicate with Arlo. But it’s okay for you to worship on the day that religious systems appointed rather than the day God Himself  blessed and made holy.”

            “Once again, apples and oranges.”

            “I beg to differ. Sin is transgression of the law, says 1 John 3:4. And the Ten Commandments are the only part of the Bible that God wrote Himself. You can’t pick and choose which ones are necessary and which aren’t.”

            “I understand your point. However, you can’t compare getting naked with another person with what day you choose to worship on. You should worship God every day.”

            “True, but there is only one day that God set apart as particularly special and blessed. Malachi 3:6 declares that God does not change. So where do human beings get off on thinking they can change the law of God? Yet the Bible predicted that the religious system that ruled in the dark ages would think to do just that. Daniel 7:25 talks about this persecuting power that would think to change times and law. The Sabbath is both. And the Word of God predicted this many centuries before it happened.”

            “Well, it’s tradition now,” Ariel said with a shrug.

            “In vain they worship me teaching as doctrines the commandments of men. For laying aside the commandment of God, you hold the tradition of men. That’s Mark 7 verses 7 and 8.”

            She snorted. “It seems Arlo and Abby are turning you into a legalist.”

            “That depends on your reason for obeying the law of God. If you’re doing so just out of duty, then yes, you’re a legalist. But Jesus said in John 14:15, if you love Me, keep my commandments. So our motive to obey should be because we love Him.”

            Ariel’s mouth hung open and her arms were crossed defiantly across her chest. But then she forced a smile. “Look at you, Pen, you’re not only a DVM, but a Bible scholar as well. How did that happen?”

            I shrugged. “It has been a lonely few months, so I’ve been studying for myself the things Abby and then Arlo have been telling me. I guess you could say Abby had planted the seeds, and Arlo watered them.”

            Ariel changed the subject. “So what would you do if Arlo asked you to marry him?”

            “He’s not going to because we haven’t known each other all that long.”

            “That’s not what I asked. I asked what would you do if he asked?

            “I don’t know,” I replied and then bit my thumb. “But we’d need to see each other for a while first.”

            “Oh my word! My confirmed bachelorette sister would consider a husband?”

            “Whoever said I was a confirmed bachelorette? Just because marriage has never been a priority with me? I’d consider settling down with the right guy one day.”

            “And Arlo, former wild rock star, might be he?”

            “Doubtful, but never say never. Now it’s your turn, buckaroo.”

            “What do you mean?” my sister asked with wide innocent eyes.

            “You know very well what I mean. That backwards hug between you and Eli. I don’t buy for a second that it was just cold. Otherwise you wouldn’t have stepped out of it so quickly.”

            “Honestly, I was just reminiscing. My senior year of high school was the happiest time of my life, mostly because of Eli. But then it ended up the worst time of my life after he not only left town but left me pregnant.”

            “You know, last night when we saw each other, I swear it looked like Eli was about to kiss either your neck or cheek.”

            “Really?” Ariel asked, and then bit her thumb and began to stare at nothing.

            “Reminiscing my foot,” I suggested.

            Ariel snapped out of her trance and then laughed. “What are we… a couple of teenagers?”

            After she left, I took of my white lab coat and hung it on a hook. My t-shirt rose a couple inches, and I yanked it down in annoyance. I needed to stop snacking in between meals. I frowned, went to a mirror, and lifted my shirt. As I studied my midriff, Ariel walked back into my office.

            “I forgot my…” She started to say, and then froze. “Pen… are you… pregnant?”

            “Of course not,” I snapped, yanking my shirt back down.

            “Are you sure?”

            “Sure I’m sure. I think I’d know, being a doctor. I just need to go on a diet.”

            “When was your last period?”

            “I don’t know, a couple months ago. Look, the last couple years it’s been inconsistent. I think I’m perimenopausal.”

            “You know your night of passion with Arlo. Did he, um, wear a certain something when you two became one?”

            “No,” I replied quietly as I felt my face flush. Denial is a strange thing. “Do you really think I could be pregnant?”

            Ariel looked sympathetic, yet sarcastically said, “I don’t know, Sis, I’m not a doctor. But I’m gonna go out on a limb and suggest Abby wasn’t the only one that planted a seed in you, albeit this being a different kind.”

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES – CHAPTER 9

HEAVY METAL MIRACLES

CHAPTER 9

ELI

THE LAW OF THE LORD IS PERFECT, CONVERTING THE SOUL; THE TESTIMONY OF THE LORD IS SURE MAKING WISE THE SIMPLE (Psalm 19:7)

            Life is a strange trip. The whole year I lived in Iowa as a seventeen year old, I could not wait to graduate high school and leave. But one thing that did give me contentment was my friendship with Ariel Grobstick. Then that friendship turned romantic right before Arlo and I fulfilled our plans to go west to pursue our dream of rock and roll stardom. I still remember those last words exchanged between Ariel and me as if it were yesterday.

            “I gave you my virginity!” she had told me with tears pouring out of her eyes. “You said you love me more than anybody on the planet.”

            “I do, I truly do, Ariel,” I pleaded, her words were like a knife in my gut. Yet the second part of my response displayed how cold hearted I was. “More than any person, Ariel. But my first love has always been music. I need to do whatever it takes to be successful, and the L.A. rock scene is the best place for that. Come with me.”

            “Why, so I can be your mistress?” she replied bitterly.

            “What do you mean? I would never cheat on you.”

            “You just said you love your guitar more than me.”

            “Ariel…”

            “Goodbye, Elijah,” she spit, turning and walking briskly away from me. I didn’t see her again for more than two decades.

            It was now midwinter in Iowa. Despite feeling like the frozen heartland was a prison as a teenager, I was now forty years of age and had been residing there for four months of my own free will. And I had never been happier in my life. It was all because of the instant family I had miraculously acquired by opening a letter one day.

            It had all turned out better than I had expected, but it hadn’t been without some challenges. First of all I needed to gain trust. Not only because I was a virtual stranger to my twenty two year old son, but also because of my rather crazy past as a wild rock star.

            Then two weeks before Christmas, Ariel’s second husband, who had been seriously injured in a scuffle with her first husband, died suddenly after suffering a stroke. Since Ariel had been the most skeptical of me upon my arrival, and since we had been lovers as teenagers, the death of her husband made me extra uncomfortable.

            Not long after meeting my son, we began jamming together. In other words we were creating music. He was a fantastic singer, and his wife was a superb drummer. When Arlo arrived, he took up the bass with us. Over the days and weeks, we evolved into a pretty tight little band and practiced three or four times a week.

            In the beginning of these sessions, Ariel was present every time. It was as if she was a mother hen making sure that I wasn’t a wolf. I can’t blame her. If ever a band’s record needed a parental advisory label it was ‘The Sons of Molech’. Even while a member of the band, I often distanced myself from the content, sighting that I wrote the music and Izzy wrote the lyrics.

            After the death of Ariel’s husband, she only joined us a half a dozen times when we practiced. On this day, in mid-February, she arrived with our five year old granddaughter. I tried not to notice how well Ariel filled out the black leggings she wore. Her dark hair with sprinkles of salt was pulled back in a ponytail. She rarely wore makeup, but this day a little mascara framed her large lovely brown eyes.

            In one hand Crystal carried the little guitar I had bought her. I typically gave her a five to ten minute guitar lesson before our band practiced. She was surprisingly good. Could musical talent be genetic? I knew little of such things.

            In Crystal’s other hand, she held a card. She shyly smiled as she shoved it toward me, using the name she called me, which I absolutely loved. “Here, Poppop.”

            “Thank you, Crissy,” I said cheerly as I opened it. It had a cartoonish picture of two kittens holding hands. Inside it asked, ‘Will you be my Valentine?’

            “I’d be delighted to be your Valentine, Sweetheart,” I told her as I spread my arms, She leapt into me for a hug.

            I glanced up at Ariel and she smiled happily at us. When we broke from our hug, Ariel handed another card to Crystal, took her guitar from her and said, “Go give this to Uncle Arlo.”

            I felt my toes curl. Not only at being one on one with Ariel, but I was fearful of how Arlo would handle a Valentine card. He was really into what he called primitive Godliness. Not only the Bible and the Bible only, which was great, but he also became a student of history, which was also great. Yet in my opinion, he took it too far, often preaching about the pagan origins of most of our holidays.

            But I couldn’t help chuckling when Arlo’s face lit up in exaggerated glee. Then he picked Crystal up and spun her around three or four times as she squealed with delight.

            Ariel pulled up a chair, sat, and strummed Crystal’s guitar a few times. “How about you give me a guitar lesson?”

            “Seriously?” I asked with an arched eyebrow.

            “Sure, why not,” she replied with a shrug.

            “You never wanted any guitar lessons twenty years ago.”

            “I didn’t need any,” she said with a coy smile. “You paid attention to me back then without me asking.”

            Words got stuck in my throat. Was she flirting with me? It had only been two months since her husband passed away. Was there a timetable for grief and its extent? I suppose everybody was different.

            “Eli, will do me a favor?”

            “Sure, but let’s get a bigger guitar.”

             “I’m not talking about that,” she said with a little giggle. Then she became serious. “Will you please stop avoiding me, and tiptoeing around me.”

            “Am I?”

            “Ya think.”

            “Apparently not,” I said with a smile.

            Once again she giggled, but then became serious. “Before we, ya know,  made a baby, you were one of the best friends I ever had. Ever since our senior year, I’d look up at the stars at night and recall how wonderful it was sitting next to you gazing at the twinkling heavens and talking the night away. Now, to have you so close, and only to be avoided. It, well, hurts.”

            “I’m sorry, Ariel. I truly am. The truth is, I have been avoiding you. But its only because I hurt you all those years ago. I felt like my presence here only made things worse for you. I even thought about going back to California for a while right after Doug passed away. But selfishly, I have been enjoying getting to know Ethan and his family, and couldn’t get myself to go.”

            “Well I’m glad you didn’t go. I admit, I was skeptical when you first arrived back in October. But your presence has been a blessing to us all. Watching you bond with Ethan and Crystal has warmed my heart, and I never would have believed it possible.”

            “Really, why’s that?”

            “You have to ask? Sweet Eli Alderson became sinister Eli Endor. That whole ‘Sons of Molech’ thing was as if you left me and married a prostitute.”

            “I’ve come to realize over the last couple years how wrong my thinking and rationalizing was. But you have to believe me when I say I didn’t take the whole satanism thing seriously. I looked at our band like a traveling horror show, and I was an actor playing a part. Like Alice Cooper. You know he’s a Christian. And as far as I know, he still tours with his traveling horror show. As for me, ‘The Sons of Molech’ are done forever.”

            “It helps that half the band is dead,” she said.

            “Even if they weren’t, Arlo quit, and I was following on his heels. Now, writing Christian songs with Ethan… It feels redemptive. Like making amends for promoting that which was dark and evil.”

            “Where do you see this all going?” Ariel asked with an eager expression.

            I shrugged. “We’ve got enough songs to record a CD. Then who knows? Play some shows, go on tour.”

            The door to the church auditorium opened. Ariel and I both looked and watched Penny walk in. She hadn’t been to one of our band’s rehearsals in months. I noticed Arlo slink in the opposite direction. I wasn’t the only one tiptoeing around one of the Grobstick sisters. Although they both had different last names now.

            “What’s up with Arlo and Penny?” I asked.

            Ariel looked at Arlo. “What do you mean?”

            “She came in and he went to the other side of the room.”

            “So?” she replied with a shrug.

            “Oh, I don’t know. When he first arrived here in Iowa, not long after I did, they seemed awfully chummy. Then all of a sudden they don’t seem to want anything to do with each other.”

            “I do know he’s been seeing Penny’s assistant, Abby.”

            “Oh, I think they are just friends. He goes to church with her. They’re both into that Biblical Sabbath thing. He says the Bible and the Bible only, something like primitive Godliness.”

            “Primitive Godliness,” she snorted. “If Abby’s into something like that, maybe she should stop having one night stands while she’s engaged.”

            “What, you don’t believe she could repent and be forgiven?”

            “No, I do,” she said with a bit of a whine. “I didn’t mean to sound judgmental. It does seem like something weird is going on with the three of them, though. I know Penny had a thing for Arlo, but it seems he has more in common with Abby. Yet the two women have to work together.”

            “So what did Penny tell you?”

            “Nothing. She doesn’t talk to me about her love life. But I know my sister, and I observe… Speaking about the Sabbath situation, I wish you’d tell Arlo to stop brainwashing Ethan. Now he’s talking about going to that Seventh Day church.”

            “Brainwashing?” I chuckled. “They’ve just been studying together. I’ve even joined them.”

            “I guess Arlo is a fairly new Christian. I suppose he doesn’t understand the Sabbath was changed to Sunday in honor of the resurrection.”

            “He and I have discussed that. He says baptism is what honors the resurrection. He says Sunday keeping became a prominent tradition in the fourth century when Constantine made Christianity a legal religion. When that happened a bunch of the pagan traditions entered the church. One of them, the worship of the sun God, on the venerable day of the sun, was Sunday which became instituted.”

            “Look at you, Mr. Bible scholar,” she joked, yet I detected an air of annoyance.

            “He said the Bible says God doesn’t change (Malachi 3:6). God wrote the Ten Commandments with his own finger, and the Sabbath is right in the middle (Exodus 20:8-11).”

            “But we’re not under the law, we’re under grace.”

            “Do we then make void the law through faith. Certainly not! On the contrary, we establish the law. That is Romans 3:31.”

            “You’re freaking me out, Eli,” she with a smile. “I guess you’ve convinced me that you’re not a satanist.”

            “Hey, Ethan is not here yet, and it seems Crissy is more interested in playing drums right now. Are you really interested in a guitar lesson?”

            “Sure, why not?”

            “I’ve got an acoustic guitar out in my truck.”

            My Shelby Mustang was in storage for the winter, so I was just about to unlock the pickup truck I had acquired when Ariel came up behind me. She had a look of wonder on face as her eyes danced with excitement. “Eli?”

            “Yeah?”

            “Before we go back in, will you hold me like you used to, and we’ll look at the stars for a minute.”

            “Sure,” I replied with an easy smile. She turned and backed into me, and I wrapped my arms around her, so we were spooning. She turned her gaze toward the sky with a sentimental look on her face. I inhaled her scent, and was considering kissing her cheek, when we heard a murmur of voices. It was Penny and Arlo, over by her pickup truck. They didn’t see us. Ariel suddenly lost interest in the night sky.

            Penny retrieved something from her truck. It was an envelope, and she handed it to Arlo. “So you say she quit her job and is leaving town?”

            “I guess so… I’m sorry,” Penny consoled.

            “It’s no big deal, we were just friends. I did hope we could be more, but I just couldn’t…”

            “Couldn’t what?”

            “Get you out of my head,” he blurted.

            “Oh Arlo,” she said. Then she went to tiptoes and kissed his lips. Then she hugged him and pressed the side of her face onto his chest as they held each other. With her cheek pressed into Arlo’s chest, she spotted Ariel and me watching them. She quickly shoved away from Arlo. As soon as she did this, Ariel abruptly stepped out of my backward embrace. Then we all just looked at each other for a long speechless moment.