After bowing publicly to Salvador, the Pontiff stepped aside.
Speaking into the microphone he said, “On this new celebration of my birth, instead of receiving gifts, I come bearing them! I’ve already received so many gifts, in the form of precious children!
“And speaking of children, since this time of year has always been about them, I want nothing to hamper that tradition. The thought of any child not receiving gifts on my birthday grieves me deeply inside. With the economy still in the rebuilding process, many new mothers are unable to purchase toys and clothing for their newborns this year.”
The first trillion-dollar cash infusion pumped into the global markets did nothing to stabilize the world economy. Another five trillion dollars had since been pumped in. It was barely enough to keep the governments of most countries afloat, at least for now. It was of little benefit to common citizens. Romanero didn’t need to remind anyone of this…
“To further ensure all kids have toys, a voucher can be found on the new International Monetary Card website. It can be exchanged for one toy and one new outfit for all newborns, at any of the stores posted online.
“This offer is also being extended to youngsters and teenagers fortunate enough to survive the disappearances. In lieu of toys, youths and teenagers can select two outfits or one outfit and a new pair of shoes.
“The choice is yours. But in order to redeem your gifts, you must present a valid ID and be photographed with your children at each store location. If you are unable to redeem your gifts tomorrow, the offer will be good until the end of the year.”
At 11:50 p.m., Romanero said, “The next birthday gift I wish to give is a joint gift between myself and American President, Lois Cipriano. Since it is intended mostly for the American people, I’ll let her share the wonderful news with the people she governs.”
All televising networks switched to a split screen from Vatican City to the White House. Vice President Jessica Whitmore appeared on screen, instead of President Cipriano.
Whitmore began, “Good evening, your Grace. On the eve of your new birthday, before sharing the wonderful gift you were instrumental in providing to the American people, I first wish to announce even more good news: the reason I’m speaking on behalf of the Commander in Chief is that she went into labor a few minutes ago here at the White House.
“As you know, with the five-hour time difference, it’s just before seven p.m. here in Washington. The President hopes to give birth after midnight. We could think of no better gift than presenting our son “Salvador” to you on your special day, your Grace.”
The Miracle Maker and the Pope both smiled and nodded at her.
“And speaking of gifts…” Vice President Whitmore paused to look at her watch. Unable to remove the gleeful expression from her face, she started counting down, “Five, four, three, two, one…”
Just like that, with the flick of many switches, power was restored all throughout the United States of America! In reality, it could have been restored weeks ago, but they chose to wait for this special occasion.
Whitmore waited a while so Americans could race through their homes turning the heat on full blast, followed by lights and all electronic devices, then said, “It’s time for our nation to come out of the darkness and back into the light! Even those of you who were without power before the terrorist attack, due to unpaid electric bills, have been restored. Consider all past balances hereby forgiven, thanks to the Miracle Maker, who was instrumental in repairing our power grids coast to coast.”
The Vice President looked at her watch. With the same gleeful expression on her face, she counted down, “Five, four, three, two, one!”
It was 7 p.m. in Washington, midnight at Vatican City, Italy. As if on cue, the Bishop of Rome led the mass gathering before him in singing Happy Birthday to Salvador Romanero.
Everyone lent their voices to the choir, then erupted into thunderous applause when they finished. It was the loudest singing ever recorded from Saint Peter’s Square. The irony was that they were singing to the antichrist of the Bible, on what was supposed to be Holy Ground…
On a split screen, the American Vice President said, “Happy birthday, your Grace!” Her smile was so big, even her back teeth were showing. “Without you, America would still be in the dark! Now millions of our citizens who relocated to other countries last June can return home! We’re eternally grateful to you, Salvador, for everything you do to make this world a better place!”
“We were going to wait until midnight in America to restore power, but decided on this time, so we can all join the global celebration! But here’s the deal, with so many people coming and going, as part of a new census, everyone living at each location will have sixty days to register with your local power providers in person, and show ID.
“Those failing to comply will find yourselves in the dark again. But for now, let’s raise our glasses. It’s time to celebrate. The President has asked me to wish you all a most blessed Salvador Romanero Day!”
Vice President Whitmore took a sip of champagne, “The instant our child is born, I’ll update you again. Until then, we wish you warm thoughts and glad tidings.”
In what could only be described as the most bizarre moment to ever transpire at Vatican City, the Pope just confirmed to the billion people he led that Salvador Romanero would not only replace the birth of Christ, but Christ Himself. The optics spoke volumes...
The multitudes of Catholics and ecumenical spiritualists filling Saint Peter’s Square didn’t even flinch. They were all for celebrating Salvador Romanero on the day of Christ’s birth.
The symbolism was unmistakable. The fact that he changed his birthdate was just another step in the process of antichrist trying to imitate Jesus. No, this went far beyond imitation. Romanero was trying to remove Jesus completely from the minds of people everywhere.
As the world celebrated the Miracle Maker, the gift he would give to himself was the mass detainment of born-again Christians.
It was time to up the ante…
38
TO SAY HANA PATEL wasn’t in a celebratory mood would be putting it mildly. After watching everything unfolding at the Vatican, she could only sigh and shrug her shoulders.
What a difference a month had made in her life. A few short weeks ago, she was having one of those once-in-a-lifetime fairytale experiences in Dubai; each day was better than the last.
It was a week full of signing countless autographs, posing for selfies with her many adoring fans, and being constantly interviewed by the global press. Hana looked, felt and was treated like a celebrity.
She even signed a movie contract for her life to be shown on the big screen. Filming was set to begin next Spring. That contract had since been cancelled and given to the Gomes couple in Brazil.
The way Thiago Gomes had praised the Miracle Maker as the whole world watch, after what Yogesh Patel did, made him an endearing figure to so many, including Salvador Romanero!
A few weeks ago, life couldn’t have been any more perfect for Hana.
It was impossible not to fall in love with the United Arab Emirates. So much so that she planned on purchasing a high-rise condominium with funds she was set to earn from the movie contract.
Her agent had agreed to handle all the paperwork for her.
With so many people starving to death, including millions in her own country, hers was a life of privilege; she even felt like royalty.
Then her late husband opened his big mouth, and everything came crashing down on her.
When Yogesh’s death was first broadcast on live TV, the Global Community reached out to her in droves, assuring Hana that the world had her back, baby Salvadora’s too. Such assurance didn’t last.
When she returned home from the Middle East, the tide of public support quickly turned against her. Taped to the front door of her home was a letter from the man who gave the Patels one of their new vehicles.
His letter read: Let this letter serve to inform that
, after what your husband did in Dubai, I have no choice but to confiscate the vehicle. I can no longer in good conscience let you keep it.
Hana was so out of sorts when she arrived home that she didn’t even notice the car was gone. Even the couple who’d blessed them with the magnificent house, the very ones who plugged Hana ever so deeply into the elite Chennai social life, had a sudden change in attitude toward her.
While they didn’t demand that she vacate the premises, their once flourishing relationship had soured. In the end, out of pity for baby Salvadora, they wouldn’t evict her—at least not yet.
As the days passed, more and more celebrities said in interviews they wished they could forward all cash and gifts given to Hana to the Gomes family in Brazil. It quickly caused a Domino effect that hadn’t stopped since. Many of her elitist friends stopped following her on social media.
Those who still did only communicated with her in private, and only because they had already bonded with baby Salvadora and felt like aunts and uncles to her. But there were no more shared Tweets, Facebook posts or shares, only private messages.
The one thing Hana enjoyed doing most since giving birth to her daughter four months ago, was going online and chatting with celebrities and reading fan mail from countless folks the world over. What 26-year-old wouldn’t, especially as the darling of the media?
Word had quickly spread that while Hana was deemed truthful in all interviews, a red flag was added to her profile in the global database. That’s all anyone but the select few knew. But what they did know was this was far worse than having a shaky credit score.
The thought of going online now filled her with dread. It seemed she now had as many haters as she did fans.
Whereas 97 seconds had put an extra $500K in her bank account, not to mention millions more from a generous and adoring public, all it took was five foolish minutes at the hands of her late husband to cost her infinitely more than she had gained. At last count, she was down more than 100,000,000 followers on social media.
Hana silently feared the next update…Apparently, her membership in the mutual admiration society came with many strings attached.
The moment the high standards set forth by those at the top weren’t met, membership was quickly revoked. Yogesh was right; they didn’t love her. The friendships they shared weren’t genuine. They were predicated on so many things and were, therefore, fake at best.
How she wished she could reverse everything and keep things the way they were. She even dreamt most nights that just before Yogesh condemned himself by condemning Salvador Romanero, with the whole world watching and listening, she pulled the plug on his microphone, thus saving his life and preserving the lifestyle they shared that had rapidly become the envy of the world.
Then Salvadora would start crying, jolting Hana from her dream, bringing her back to her nightmarish dilemma. Not even her small, but no longer increasing, fortune could assuage the crushing grief she felt.
For someone who always spoke of peace, prosperity and love, Salvador Romanero’s actions didn’t follow his words. It was becoming more and more evident that if you weren’t completely for the man—as in all in—you were deemed to be against him.
But something else bothered her. The reason she shrank away from Salvador when he touched her up on stage, hoping to comfort her, was that she felt this unmistakable evil flowing from the man. Even before he touched her, she sensed it. But it was unmistakable after that.
Hana knew the woman who called her hotel suite in Dubai, just before the plane was shot down, was ordered by Romanero to do it.
Now that the Miracle Maker knew her belief that she was pregnant before the contest was even announced, would he one day consider her his enemy and order all her assets frozen?
Would he one day take baby Salvadora away from her?
Would he have her incarcerated? Would he have her killed?
Hana didn’t know. But after witnessing the sheer brutality he had ordered on everyone connected to her late husband’s failed escape, how could she not be concerned for her own life?
Ajit Laghari may have been strange, and perhaps even mentally ill, but he didn’t deserve what he suffered at the hands of his jailers. The fact that Romanero allowed it to be shown on live TV, the internet and on every smartphone on the planet, was cruel, heartless, and inhumane.
The comfort she always found in him was replaced with a constant sense of fear and dread.
But what devastated Hana most this night was that she still loved her late husband and wished he was still alive. The way she felt now, with her hero no longer so appealing to her, she would give anything to bring Yogesh back, including her newfound riches.
Even if it meant living in an old shack again, she would do it.
But it was too late...
She chose the world over her husband; now she was paying the piper.
Hana burst out in tears. She felt all alone in the world.
Crazily enough, whereas many of her online fans now sent hate mail, ever since Yogesh’s death, she received a constant barrage of comforting emails from Christians in hiding, offering their sincerest condolences, and hoping she and the baby were okay.
What they didn’t say in the emails was that they pleaded with God each day to rescue them both from Romanero’s evil clutches.
Fearing her emails were being read, Hana deleted every one of them, without ever replying. If Salvador’s people spied on her before Yogesh was killed, how much more would they be spying on her now, to make sure her secret never got out?
As the days passed, Hana felt herself withdrawing from the lifestyle she loved so much that, in the end, severed her marriage.
She was completely unaware that this was a direct result of the prayers of God’s people being answered…
Another thing Hana didn’t know was, even in death, her husband’s declaration for Jesus was still fishing for souls.
The Most High was using his testimony as seed-planting for the great end time harvest, to include Jews, Muslims, Hindus and Buddhists.
In that regard, Yogesh was still a fisherman.
Whereas Hana’s fortune would slowly but surely dwindle, like all of God’s children, his would only increase. The rewards Yogesh would receive were geometrical, meaning every life he touched on earth, whether directly or indirectly, would result in blessings on the other end.
And this meant, even though he was gone from the physical world, he was still fishing for and winning souls for his King, even in absentia.
This was her husband’s eternal legacy, even if Hana didn’t know it.
Millions of Christ followers around the world prayed each day that she would come to know it someday...
39
IT WAS A COLD blustery moonlit night in Chadds Ford, Pennsylvania. Fierce, sustained winds howled, blowing much of the newly fallen 14 inches of snow off rooftops and tree branches scattered about the 37-acre property, adding a light dusting to what had already fallen on the ground.
This was the first measurable precipitation since they took possession of the land. With the possibility of no more rain or snowfall for many months or years to come—which ETSM members knew was at the full discretion of the Two Witnesses—it needed to be preserved, then treated for human consumption.
And this meant, beautiful as it was to look at, the snow needed to be cleared off all rooftops, and shoveled off walkways in the soonest possible fashion, then placed in wheelbarrows and dumped underground before it evaporated. But for now, it looked simply spectacular.
Jacquelyn closed the front door behind her and peered into the living room window, staring at the Christmas tree adorned with hundreds of bright twinkling lights. It was one of three that were chopped down, off property, when Tony was out hunting one morning with the guys.
The two other trees occupied the large stage in the sanctuary.
The first thing residents at safe house number one did when power was restored was turn on the heat in their cottages.
First thing Jacquelyn did was turn the tree lights on. She had no intention of unplugging it until she went to sleep after the wedding festivities.
Much to her dismay, with no power until now, she could only light the tree sporadically, usually in one-hour intervals. Earlier this afternoon, she’d heard on the news that power might not be restored until next Spring. And that meant they had to use as little generator fuel as possible.
She was grateful to have power again.
A moment of clarity pierced her thinking. Memories of past Christmases flooded her mind. In her former life, Jacquelyn always went in search of the perfect Christmas tree the Saturday after Thanksgiving.
Once the tree was decorated, it remained in the living room long into the new year, along with the rest of the Christmas decorations.
Knowing this would probably be the last time having a tree in her house, she planned on leaving it up until the last needle fell to the floor.
This decision went far beyond the nostalgia she felt. With countless Christians experiencing extreme horrid conditions, even their Pocket of Peace—the name Brian gave safe house number one the first time he saw the property online—no longer felt safe.
Every time she thought about Ajit Laghari, the tears came. After his first tooth was knocked out with the use of his Bible, Jacquelyn turned her phone off. She could no longer bear to watch. Her hormones were already out of whack. She was surprised she could think straight.
Though highly impractical, in a world full of constant chaos, especially for born-again Christians, having the lights on provided a sort of mental release for her, which was good for the child inside her womb.
Who knew how long this safe house would be here? The uncertainty frightened her.
Jacquelyn was grateful for the 12 AFK guards. Had the Rapture not occurred 13 months ago, she’d still be living in Michigan, celebrating Christmas (at least from a Pagan standpoint), with her late husband, Tom, and their infant child, who would have been six months old by now.
The Sealing Page 25
