The Rapture: Evil Advances / Before They Were Left Behind Read online

  Leon had been dozing before the television in anticipation of going to bed when his room phone jangled.

  Viv Ivins was on the other end. “Do you see what has happened?” she said.

  Leon fought for clarity from the loginess of his nap. The TV news showed alarming images from all over the world.

  “Millions have disappeared right out of their clothes.”

  “What is it?” Leon managed. “Am I dreaming?”

  “No, you are not dreaming. And you know precisely what this is. It is the day of reckoning. The ultimate war has begun.”

  NINETEEN

  IRENE STEELE had long wondered what heaven would be like. She had heard there would be different priorities, that things on Earth that had seemed so important would become inconsequential. But what of her heartache over Rayford and Chloe? Somehow the pain was muted in the presence of God. She felt an optimism deep within, and her prayer life had already been radically altered.

  Anytime Irene was moved to communicate with God through Christ, she merely thought what she wanted to say, and God was in her and she in Him, the conversation direct and instantaneous. And His message? It was always filled with encouragement and security. There was no earthly word for this heavenly feeling of welcome, of belonging, and—strangest of all—praise that went both ways.

  In her humanity on Earth she praised had Him and longed to do so in His presence for eternity. But she would not have been able to even comprehend God praising her. On Earth Irene had had the most difficult time accepting and feeling God’s love for her, even though she knew it was true. It was what had drawn her to Him, and she could identify with the biblical truth that “we love Him because He first loved us.”

  That Jesus, the only perfect man who ever lived, would have gone to the cross and suffered and died for her had she been the only sinner in history, had often caused her to break emotionally. And yet Irene had to admit that she had never, ever understood God’s love. She had always regretted that, because she sensed that God wanted her to not only accept His gift—which she had—but to also understand that she was the object of His great love, the apple of His eye, the reason He did what He did.

  Now, here, in His presence, she got it. She understood. In herself she found no more worthiness, yet she could not deny the look in Jesus’ eyes and the thrill it seemed was His to see her. She only hoped her countenance showed the same, as being in the eternal presence of her Savior had been her loftiest hope and dream ever since she had received Him. How could He seem as overjoyed to see her—one of so many—as she was to be in His presence?

  Irene had assumed all the attention would naturally and rightfully be on Jesus here, so it stunned her to feel His love and acceptance in a whole new way. Everyone here—she knew that each was feeling this as personally as she—was the object of Jesus’ love.

  On Earth she would not have been in a place even a tenth this massive without keeping an eye on Raymie every second. Now, though he may have been miles from her with the ability to move at the speed of thought, she was entirely aware of his presence and knew he was safe and, in essence, still with her. With his having been transformed into an instant adult—seemingly in mind as well as body—he exuded a wisdom far beyond his years. Irene knew he was experiencing every detail the way she was, and she couldn’t wait to talk with him, though she resisted the urge to request his presence. When they needed to be together, both would come to that conclusion simultaneously, and it would happen.

  For now, as the colossal hall hummed with excitement, Irene settled in for what was to come. She had an eternity to enjoy this, and her prayer became that her husband and her daughter would somehow see the truth and make their decisions to follow Christ before it was too late. The way she understood it, only one in four people alive at the time of the Rapture would survive the Tribulation. With odds like that against them, she prayed they would early turn to Christ. She wished them no danger or pain or death. She would gladly wait to reunite with them following Jesus’ glorious appearing and the setting up of the millennial kingdom if it meant they didn’t have to endure tragedy in the meantime.

  The question looming in Irene’s mind was whether it was possible to maintain this delicious, overwhelming feeling she could barely describe. She felt full of God, full of light, full of His righteousness and perfection. How she had felt when she made her husband or kids happy or when everything seemed to go right just began to hint at this sense of well-being. In her old life, Irene would have been able to maintain such an emotional high for only so long. Now it seemed it would never fade, and something told her that she had the capacity to more than endure it but to also luxuriate in it.

  From what seemed miles behind the throne came a tiny beam of light that grew slowly as it drew nearer. Soon Irene could make out that this was another band of angels, thousands of them. And they were singing. Rich basses and clear tenors combined for the most magnificent sound she had ever heard.

  How she had always loved music! And how bad she had always been at it. Though she was not tone-deaf—she always knew when the right notes were being played and sung, and she could detect the clunkers—Irene had never been able to carry a tune. For years that had been her little secret. She enjoyed singing nonetheless, but she had learned to keep her voice down, because there was no hiding her monotone, and it had surprised even Rayford and the kids.

  She had joked to Jackie that one thing she looked forward to in heaven was being able to sing. As the angel choir drew nearer and their magnificent voices filled the place, the redeemed saints began to join in singing praises to God.

  Suddenly Jackie and Dooley appeared next to Irene, and Jackie said, “This is your moment. Let’s hear it. Let it go!”

  Irene did not even have to listen to learn the simple song. It was as if the words and the melody had been written on her heart. The great multitude, led by the angel choir, blended beautiful voices, drawing Irene to her feet and causing her to raise her chin. And with a dramatic, crystal-clear soprano she had never heard—and certainly never produced—she raised her hands high and joined the triumphant, majestic multitude, singing, “Alleluia! Salvation and glory and honor and power belong to the Lord our God! For true and righteous are His judgments, because He has judged the great harlot who corrupted the earth with her fornication; and He has avenged on her the blood of His servants shed by her.

  “Alleluia! Her smoke rises up forever and ever!”

  And the twenty-four elders and the four living creatures fell and worshiped God. “Amen! Alleluia!”

  Then a voice came from the throne, saying, “Praise our God, all you His servants and those who fear Him, both small and great!”

  In unison, the voices of the vast host, sounding like rushing water and mighty thunder, proclaimed, “Alleluia! For the Lord God Omnipotent reigns! For the Father judges no one, but has committed all judgment to the Son, that all should honor the Son just as they honor the Father.”

  The music stopped as quickly as it had begun, and a holy hush fell over the place. Irene was feeling the crackle of anticipation but not knowing what they were waiting for.

  With the four creatures hovering quietly behind Him; the countless angels, heads bowed, crowded around for what seemed like miles; and the twenty-four elders on their faces before Him, Jesus stood. Despite royal robes, the magnificent throne, the galactic beauty of the house of God, and the encompassing host of worshipers, there was not even a hint of pride in Jesus’ bearing. He merely regarded the crowd.

  And again, Irene felt as if His look was for her alone. How He could single out each of the hundreds and hundreds of millions, she would never know. She wanted to cheer, to clap, to shout, to sing, to fall prostrate, yet that thrum of expectancy, that heightened edge, had caused not only all sound but also any movement among the masses to cease.

  When the great gathering place and all those souls were finally dead silent and motionless, the booming voice of God shook the place: “This is My beloved Son, in w
hom I am well pleased. Henceforth He shall be known to all as KING OF KINGS AND LORD OF LORDS. I have highly exalted Him and given Him the name which is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of those in heaven, and of those on earth, and of those under the earth, and that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.”

  As Jesus again sat on the throne, Irene instinctively reached toward Him and saw that everyone else was doing the same. Then the chant started, picked up by all: “King of kings and Lord of lords. King of kings and Lord of lords. King of kings and Lord of lords . . .”

  Again silence washed over the multitudes, and one of the twenty-four elders slowly rose and stood before the throne. Irene saw him as if standing next to him, a plain, earnest-looking man, quivering with emotion. She knew without being told that he was the apostle Peter.

  He said, in a voice so soft that Irene knew only God could make it resonate so clearly in the ears of so many, “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who according to His abundant mercy has begotten us again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance incorruptible and undefiled and that does not fade away, bestowed here now for you, who were kept by the power of God through faith for salvation to be revealed in the last time.

  “In this you greatly rejoice, for you were grieved by various trials, that the genuineness of your faith, being much more precious than gold that perishes, though tested by fire, may be found to praise, honor, and glory in the presence of Jesus Christ, whom having not seen you loved. Now you see Him, and you rejoice with joy inexpressible and full of glory, receiving the end of your faith—the salvation of your souls.

  “Everyone here shall receive praise for receiving the gift of salvation through God’s Son, Jesus the Christ. Those who have served Christ will be honored, for as the Son Himself has proclaimed, ‘If anyone serves Me, let him follow Me; and where I am, there My servant will be also. If anyone serves Me, him My Father will honor.’

  “And those who have suffered for the sake of Christ and the gospel will be glorified. So, beloved, do not think it strange concerning the fiery trial which tried you, as though some strange thing happened to you; but rejoice to the extent that you partook of Christ’s sufferings, so that now that His glory has been revealed, you may also be glad with exceeding joy. If you were reproached for the name of Christ, blessed are you, for the Spirit of glory and of God rests upon you and through you He is glorified.

  “The time has come for judgment to begin here at the house of God. Therefore let those who suffered according to the will of God and yet committed their souls to Him in doing good, as to a faithful Creator, be commended by Him whom they served.” Peter returned to his place and prostrated himself before the throne.

  Next the voice of God began to praise all believers for their faith. Again, though Irene had been taught that this would take place and had felt this attention and honor since the moment of her arrival, it struck her as bizarre even as it warmed her beyond measure.

  She knew that if God gave every redeemed saint even ten seconds of praise, it would take thousands of Earth years. So when Irene was addressed by Him personally, she knew that everyone else was getting their commendation at the same time.

  “Irene,” He spoke audibly to her heart, “I have loved you with an everlasting love. You believed in My Son and followed Him, despite opposition within your own family. Though you have belonged to Me only a short time, you have been faithful in studying My Word, in teaching it to children, in leading your in-laws and your own son to Christ. From the time of your salvation, your concern has been not for yourself, but for others. I love you and welcome you home. Well done, good and faithful servant.”

  The words of God from His own mouth humbled Irene so much that she could no longer stand. Enraptured as she was, all she could think of was her shortcomings, the times she had failed God and how puny her service had been in the short time she’d had to offer, especially compared to so many of those around her. Just this brief moment with her God gave Irene a whole new view of her temporal life and what a waste it now seemed in light of eternity. She had heard the quote “Only one life ’twill soon be past; only what’s done for Christ will last,” but how true and real it was to her now. What had all the rest of that busyness been about? It amounted to less than nothing in the cosmic scheme.

  Irene had been praised for receiving Christ and honored for a bit of service: teaching Sunday school and leading three others to Him. But there was another category of blessing for which she knew she was not qualified. Yet it buoyed her to see others glorified for having suffered for the sake of Christ and the gospel.

  Countless thousands were brought before Jesus and honored for years and years of service in various capacities, and this was when Irene realized the truth of the adage that “the last will be first and the first last” in heaven. Irene looked forward to seeing and hearing about the exploits of all the heroes of the Bible and leaders of the church throughout history, but clearly they were at the other end of the godly schedule. For as God praised the saints, He began with the behind-the-scenes people, the lesser knowns, those unrecognized outside their own small orbits.

  There was the woman from Indiana who had raised four sons in spite of an alcoholic husband who abused her. She had continued to pray for him, protect her sons, and work to provide for them all. While she had refused to be walked on and injured by this man, she treated him as a lost soul and not as an enemy, and God honored her for that example to her sons. Under her tutelage and Bible teaching, all four became excellent students, graduated from seminaries, and went into full-time Christian work. The adult Sunday school class she taught grew to more than seven hundred members.

  Another honoree was a prodigious pianist who had taken the gift God had given him and devoted himself to ministry rather than exalt himself by pursuing what was guaranteed to be a lucrative career in the great concert halls. He taught piano in remote areas of the world and used his giftedness to spread the Word of God, eschewing personal glory and wealth.

  On and on they paraded by the throne, receiving honor from the Lamb who had been slain for the sins of the world. As Jesus embraced them and spoke to them, Irene could hear and see it all as if she were in the front row. And it was as if time stood still. She felt no passage of minutes or hours, experienced no fatigue or restlessness or impatience. If this went on for the rest of eternity, it would have been fine with her. She was exposed to heroes of the faith she had never even heard of, and they proved to be quiet, unassuming giants.

  Through sheer force of his own will and personality, Abdullah Smith had wrestled his decimated life back to some semblance of normalcy. For many, many months he laid low at the Amman air base, not making it obvious that he still lived there, though he had been divorced for so long. His ex-wife, Yasmine, still lived in their modest home with their son and daughter, and Abdullah had cleaned himself up enough that she allowed brief visits every couple of weeks or so.

  He had quit drinking, quit chasing women, quit being slothful, and returned to his old disciplined ways with the Royal Jordanian Air Force. Abdullah was always the first one up and on the job in a crisp, shining uniform. He regained his sense of class and purpose and style, but, sad to say, his old personality seemed lost forever.

  He had always been a man of few words while bearing the ability to be quick-witted and pleasant. Now his professionalism and leadership in the cockpit had returned, but he was largely a sullen, silent man. Wounded was how he would have put it. With the loss of his wife and children, he was devastated.

  And it was obvious that this was not going to change. He and Yasmine still traded letters occasionally, but it was nearly impossible for him to remain civil in his, always moving from desperate lovelorn pleas to get back together to rants and raves about her infidelity to Islam and her treachery in “stealing” his own children. Yet it was Abdullah who was not devout in h
is faith, and it had been he who initiated the divorce. That made everything worse; he had no one to blame but himself. Yes, she had turned her back on her religion, but he had intended to make her pay. He was the one, however, who was now suffering.

  Abdullah had, as usual, been up since the crack of dawn on the fateful day that changed the world. He had already eaten and begun his round of preflight training chores when the warning sirens sounded and military personnel were rallied from all over the base. He’d seen enough similar drills, so he never even asked what was going on. He just assumed it was a routine test and that he would be expected to muster next to his fighter plane until the thing was called off.

  Instead, he and several colleagues were marshaled to take off and defend the skies of Jordan. Against who or what, no one could or would say. But as Abdullah’s fighter screamed into the air over Amman, his view of the carnage on the ground horrified him. What could have caused this on such a beautiful, sunny, cloudless day?

  He stared at hopeless rush-hour traffic jams—nothing new except for the number of smoking and burning accidents and the fact that nothing was moving. Helicopters were the only craft able to get on and off the main roads, carting the most seriously injured to overtaxed hospitals.

  “What in the world has happened?” Abdullah cried into his radio.

  But his dispatcher was so harried that he merely responded, “Find the news on the radio. Everyone’s carrying it.”

  Abdullah had always been one who knew the difference between his dreams and reality. He had never had to pinch himself to determine whether he was awake. For the first time ever, he was not so sure. To hear the frantic reports of the disappearances of people in Jordan, the rest of the Middle East, Europe, Asia, even his beloved America, was almost too much to take in. People had disappeared, disintegrated, dematerialized—whatever one could call it—right out of their clothes, regardless of where they were or what they were doing.