Chapter 2
God's Young Choice
Keel peered out the window of his parent’s Old Hickory Lake home while watching for the mailman with news from his family. Since the government cut back on services, no one expected to receive any mail more than once a month with no guarantee of its condition.
He moved through the house while peeking out between blind slits for unwelcome strangers. He was so tall, even at 16, only a foot below the top of the blinds, that when he entered the stairway to the basement, he ducked to avoid hitting his head. His height made him look gangly with arms and legs too long for his torso, just a teenage growing spurt that he wasn’t enjoying very much. He wished that he could grow a beard or maybe shave off his long red hair to a burr, anything to take attention away from his wrong-body-part looks. He knew it was a phase—he’d live through it—he’d get over it.
He shrugged his shoulders and headed back to his garage to pick through some fishing tackle. He walked down to the lake, pushed some old brush aside; and there where he hid it, he found his old, 14-foot aluminum bass boat. He pulled the oars out, placed them in the rowlocks, and pushed out into the cove. He used to have a motor but pulled it off long ago. No one could afford gasoline. He'd use a little battery operated trolling motor to get up close to shore and to keep moving; but for most of the time, he rowed or sculled with a paddle in the aft rowlock.
He loved it on the lake. He liked the quiet, the stillness, and the isolation; especially since hardly anyone came out anymore. There were some who still fished. If he did see others, they didn’t talk but stayed far from each other. One couldn’t count on people; no one could be trusted. Sometimes when he went out, he thought about the
book The Island. The book about people lost in their ancient time zone that resulted in savagery and murder. He wondered if the lake would ever get that bad. He thought it would, eventually.
Not long ago, when he was fishing late, the wind picked up too much for him. He needed to go directly into the wind to get back home, but the wind and the white-capping waves pushed him out into the main channel. He was getting scared but couldn’t afford to lose his boat. He had to stay no matter. If he ended up ditching it on the opposite shore, he’d never see it again. Getting back alone was even scarier. This world was too full of reckless, desperate people. They’d probably kill him, and then, discover that he didn’t have any money.
Suddenly, a man appeared in a 16-foot Bass Tracker with a big outboard. It was raining so hard that he could barely see him. The man pulled up to his boat; and before he could say "dirt," his boat was being pulled along like a rag doll, barreling across the lake. "Where did this guy get that kind of gasoline? He must be rich," thought Keel. Minutes later, he saw the outline of his home cove, then the shoreline.
The stranger said, "You can make it from here, Keel. The Lord is with you."
When Keel jumped out of the boat, he was in three feet of water only six feet from his brush dock. When he turned around, the
man was gone. He never saw or heard him leave. He wondered how he knew his name. He remembered the guy was huge. What Keel could see of him made him think of a tackle for the Titans.
Keel wondered, "Why did he say the Lord is with me? How come he didn't say, 'The Lord be with you?' That was strange."
He wondered if there was a connection between this time and another when a couple of guys on a Party Barge tried to take his boat away from him. He had just finished a couple of hours of fishing and was rowing in a half mile from his cove when these guys came flying out of a nearby inlet. They had a little 45-HP motor wound to the top, and they pulled right up alongside him. One guy, barely able to stand, was waving an old Jack Daniel’s whiskey bottle, but it was full of a clear, probably homemade strain.
They kept hollering at him while holding on to his boat railing, "Jump in the water, boy, before we throw you in! What's wrong, boy? Don't you understand plain English?"
One of them leaned over and straddled his knees on his boat while holding onto Keel’s as the waves rocked them apart. Keel reached for his boat anchor, a little, lightweight job with drop-down flanges.
He moved towards the guy while warning him, "I'll drop this anchor on your head, mister, if you don't get out of here!"
The other guy steering the boat started getting more excited. He was going to walk right over the top of his friend while using him for a gangplank to get to Keel. That’s when Keel heard the roaring noise. So did they, but the one holding Keel’s boat didn't let go. The other man’s eyes got as big as saucers, and he looked confused and frightened. Keel turned to see a 16-foot Bass Tracker
with its 80-HP screaming towards them. Sitting in the captain's seat was a very big man, and beside him were his two mountainous companions. They veered at the last minute, then circled around to the other side of the Party Barge with their wake throwing all three boats around like toys.
As they passed Keel’s side, the captain hollered, "You okay, Keel?"
Hearing that, the man let go of Keel’s boat and staggered back into his boat cushions, "This boat’s ours," he hollered. "Salvage rights. Get out of here!"
The driver of the Party Barge slapped his friend on the back of the head saying, "Shut up, Hal! Shut up! You know we don't got no guns. If those guys can afford to drive that thing, they can afford guns too. You idiot!"
The three in the Bass Tracker didn't say a word until they took off their sweatshirts. They were more massive than any wrestlers on TV. They looked more like tree trunks with muscles and skin than real people.
One leaned towards the Party Barge and said, "I've been thinking that I need a Party Barge, haven't you, Caleb? How about you, Joseph?"
Caleb answered, "Yes, Aaron, I've been thinking about that myself. Do you think these guys would mind going for a swim for us?"
Caleb was smaller than Aaron and Joseph, but it wasn’t for lack of thickness or massiveness, just height, and he was magnificently attractive and striking to look at. His muscles were cut, ripped to the bone. He looked more like a walking road map with his veins wrapping around his granite-like features. Joseph looked more like a
human bull. His military haircut accented his short, powerful neck, and his traps stuck so high above his shoulders that he looked like he lifted buildings for warm-up exercises, but they all looked like they were chiseled from the same mammoth mold.
Aaron looked over at Keel, lowered his sunglasses slightly, and Keel blinked, dazzled for a second. He thought he saw a mirrored reflection.
Aaron said in a familiar voice, "You can go home now, Keel. The Lord is with you." There it was again, the same phrase in the same voice. It had to be the same guy.
The scoundrels panicked, "We're sorry, guys! We didn't know this kid was your friend. Keel, you said, huh? No hard feelings, Keel? Why don't we go this way?" The driver pointed to the other end of the lake. "You guys stay here and chat, fish, enjoy. We promise; we won't bother…"
He was interrupted by his friend who was trying to stand up. It was obvious the liquor was giving him stupid courage. His friend squeezed Hal’s arm to keep him quiet. Keel saw white finger marks on Hal’s arm when he let him go.
"Don't say a word, Hal," replied the driver while quickly starting the engine and jamming it into drive.
Their boat lurched up over a small wave and bounced across the lake at top speed. They looked back seconds later, and there was Keel, rowing slowing towards his cove. The other guys were gone, nowhere to be seen, and Keel noticed it too.
He shook his head in disbelief and said, "Praise the Lord," and kept rowing.
Today was calm with no one in sight. He went to his favorite fishing spots and dropped his lines exactly as they were marked on each reel. His lines and reels were set out in the order of the fishing spots. One set for ten feet, the next for twelve. He knew exactly the depth of each crappie hole. In other times, he would've been a great fishing guide. He'd fish to get enough for supper and go home.
The lake was his best grocery store.
Fishing was also his way of being by himself. Sometimes, he wondered why God made him such a loner. He wasn't at all uncomfortable with it. In fact, he'd done rather well by himself since Grandma went to New York to search for his dad and mom. Being an only son to an older couple had its advantages. They always expected he’d entertain himself, and he did. He fished alone, shot baskets alone, played chess against the computer, and played tennis against a retaining wall in the back of his house by himself. He also, enjoyed working out by boxing on a heavy bag hung in the middle of the garage. He purposely avoided groups and crowds of people, except at church. He could handle that. However, it took him a while to get used to everyone. At 16, he wasn’t even interested in dating. He found being alone a lot less complicated, a lot less crowded. His dad was always gone, preaching somewhere, and his mom was always doing something at church. His grandma might as well have not been around since she only kept to her gardening and patchwork quilts. He didn’t even ask his parents about a car. Although, he learned to work on his dad's, but it was just a hobby to him. He'd get the books and read up on how to repair things. This helped his family and gave Keel a chance to work with his dad. Keel preferred to walk or ride his bike to school or to church. The weather was hardly ever so bad that he couldn’t. The temperature was sometimes 80 degrees in October and November. Several times, it was over 70 degrees after New Year’s. He knew this because he kept a running log of the miles he ran and the weather conditions.
One time, when he was out running, a boy came up behind him and asked, "Hey, you want some company?"
Keel said, "No, I don't run to have company. I run to be by myself." The boy shrugged and ran on.
The Horseman
He missed his mom and dad. They went to New York to visit his aunt in the hospital on July 15. Soon after that, New York and Washington, D.C. were nuked by the New Arab Union. Man, did they ever mess them up. When he and Grandma went to church one night, Pastor Allen preached about the "end times." He said the attack on Israel by Russia with the New Arab Union was prophesied in the scriptures. He called Russia the Red Horseman. He claimed the White Horseman was the French Minister of Finance, Andre Montplier, who was the head of the new European Common Market (ECM). Originally, the ECM was made up to 11 countries, but the bigger powers joined together as one authority, setting up the controlling management of their own Euro Central Bank. These bigger powers were Britain, Germany, France, and Italy. When they merged, they yielded all their authority to Montplier’s leadership. Later, Ireland refused to pay the annual funds required to participate and dropped out, thus, fulfilling the prophesy of the Antichrist with ten crowns (kings) reduced to seven.
The pastor told everyone that the big high-sign was when the value of the new Euro dollar reached 6.66 on the European exchange. There were big 666 parties, and a statue of Montplier was erected in front of the ECM headquarters in Paris. Under the statue it said, "In Honor of Andre Montplier, Grand Statesmen of Europe.” Under this were the numbers "666" with a caption that read, "The Sign of True Greatness."
In addition, Montplier spearheaded with the United States the continuation of the 1998, permanent, seven-year peace treaty between the Arabs and Israel. He was able to renegotiate a peace allowing Israel to rebuild the temple in Jerusalem right next to the Rock of the Dome. This was in exchange for returning to the Arabs all the pre-1967, Syrian-and-Golan-Heights territory that Israel captured in the Middle East War. Montplier received the Nobel Peace Prize for his efforts.
In July, two years ago, during a full (Nostradamus) eclipse of the sun, which was seen quite vividly from France, Arab terrorists set off nuclear devices in Paris and Rome. They chose Rome because the Euro Central Bank was located there. Paris was chosen because that’s
where Montplier resided with his executive offices. Montplier was almost killed in the attack. Doctors said he was clinically dead. They were amazed that someone flat-lining for so long was able to come back. His head injury removed over half his skull and face, then it took over 50 operations to reconstruct his face and head. No one could tell that he had been so grotesquely injured. It left him with a left glass eye that reflected brilliantly when light hit it just right, almost like angel star eyes.
The public outcry was so great, the pain and shock so widespread that everyone clamored for peace. Montplier immediately took advantage of the situation and asked for peace without retribution in a spirit of forgiveness. He demanded the world support the New World Peace Force and world disarmament. His non-retaliatory posture caused the world to rethink and respond with unanimous agreement. His acts of peace were considered the acts of great grace. He was viewed as a saint in the midst of destructive wolves and was
revered for his actions. He got what he wanted and became the founder and leader of the New World Peace Force (NWPF).
He successfully disarmed Europe 18 months after the Nulcear July, being so named and sometimes referred to as ANY (After Nuclear July). He was working with the Russians and the New Arab Union to do the same, but they were resistant. The world knew why, now.
Keel didn't understand much of what his pastor said. All he knew was that Russia and the New Arab Union used the disarmed Europe to their advantage. Two years after (2-A.N.Y.), they surrounded Israel. From eighty well-placed Russian Typhoon-class, nuclear submarines off the coast of Israel, they pointed over a thousand nuclear missiles at Britain, Germany, France, Italy, Canada, and the U.S. They literally goaded someone to fire a shot. How could we fire at the enemy in Israel? Before we could answer, Russia fired a volley of nuclear missiles. Several got through our Star Wars defensive program.
"Why New York?" Keel asked himself. “After everything New York had been through with the Twin Towers being destroyed by Muslim terrorists years before, now this.”
Even more important, "Why did God allow this happen to his parents? They were Christians. How could this happen?”
He didn't feel the same way about Washington D.C. In his youthful sarcasm and in weaker moments, he thought it was a blessing since Congress was there in a special emergency session when it happened. He felt badly for the innocents but didn’t think the same way about the politicians.
To make it worse, the U.S. retaliated by firing nuclear missiles at all the major cities in each of the opposing countries. The U.S. was guilty of killing more civilians in less than five minutes than the number killed in all the wars since the time of Christ. We really showed them, didn't we? It made Keel sick. All those people on both sides, dead, with those still alive wishing they were dead. It was as if nuking was vogue—all this within two days.
Israel didn't make it any better. They exercised "Operation Samson" and nuked themselves. They destroyed 84 percent of the Russian-Muslim alliance on their soil. Their equipment was still burning two months later. There were so many dead that they set up an International Unit of Grave Diggers.
The self-nuking of Israel set on fire some of the newest and deepest oil reserves in the world. Keel wondered if Israel’s oil combined with their strategic position over the shipping lanes had anything to do with Russia wanting to attack them. All the nuking caused the gasoline shortage, especially since the other oil-producing nations had their oil fields on fire as well from the U.S. nuclear attacks.
Never Truly Alone
Keel was really alone now. Grandma left him with a little money and food, then headed down the road to find her baby boy, his dad. He still didn't know how she would get gasoline. After Grandma left, there were gangs breaking into homes. They especially liked the more secluded ones, like Keel’s. They’d break in, and after hanging out for a couple days, move on. For that reason, Keel kept the lights on, and it seemed to keep them at a distance. He always heard them partying until early morning— sound carried a long way around the lake.
One day the electricity went out.
He guessed Grandma planned to be back before it happened. It wasn't uncomfortable, but without the lights left on, Keel’s house looked too vacant, too appealing. That day, Keel rode his bike down to the church for Sunday afternoon services. No one had evening church anymore since it was too dangerous to be out at night. When he came back home, he found 50 people roaming all over his property. He hid and watched. They were armed, drunk,
high, and they threw his family’s personal things out into the middle of the yard to make room to put down their bedrolls. Keel’s house had become a free hangout for a bunch of…Keel didn't finish the thought. What could a skinny, pimple-faced 16-year-old do to stop them? He stayed hid until it was close to dusk, but they never left. At least, he thought that he had enough sense to figure the odds and count the cost, just walk away. Now, what could he do? He had the clothes on his back and his Bible so he biked the five miles back to the church.
He had known the pastor of his church since before he was saved, when he was ten-years old. His pastor was one of his best friends; at least, he could talk to him. He was the one person Keel liked to fish with. They'd sit for hours and not say a word and fish for crappie till they caught enough to make a handsome meal by anyone’s standards. He’d let the pastor keep them all. Grandma didn’t like cooking fish. After she left, he did it all himself, including eating them.
Keel found the pastor in his library. "Pastor Allen, am I glad to see you!" Keel sighed in relief. "Pastor Allen, what are you doing?" Keel watched a silent man putting books from his private library in boxes and stacking them on the floor.
The pastor looked shamefaced at Keel. "I’m leaving Keel. I didn't have the heart to tell the congregation this afternoon. The church has been sold, foreclosed. We didn't have enough money to keep it open. I’m hoping I can get my family someplace where I can grow enough food to feed us."
Keel had seen his home stolen from him, lost his mother, father, grandma, and now his friend, his pastor. He couldn't speak, then he did, "Stan, may I call you that?" It was the first time Keel ever called him by his first name. To call him pastor, now, felt awkward. He didn't wait for a reply.
“I'm sorry things are bad for you. You’ve taught me so much. You taught me about faith. If faith works when things are okay, why doesn’t it work when things get hard? I remember you saying how real faith is strongest when the circumstances are most difficult? Isn’t there something we can do to save the church? Can’t we use our faith to make things happen?”
The pastor was looking at a very calm boy. He knew about Keel’s circumstances and couldn't imagine why or how he could be so calm. What Keel said cut right through him. Keel was preaching to him this time. In his heart, he knew God had reserved something very special, a great calling for Keel. He saw Keel’s father's gentle ways in him. Keel’s father, Robert, was probably one of the gentlest men he’d ever known. He was a youth evangelist who would go into the congregation of young people and just talk to the kids. The Holy Spirit in Robert was gentle, easy, but ever so powerful, and it cut straight into the very core of any young person’s heart. He was so full of the Holy Spirit that it was almost impossible for anyone to resist the call to salvation when he spoke, and the children loved him.
Keel and Robert had a great relationship. They never pushed each other; mostly because, Robert never got in a hurry. Robert kept saying to Stan, "You have to teach your kids to slow down. Stop rushing them around so much, Stan. Cut back on the activities. This isn’t what life is about. Teach your kids to enjoy time, even time alone. God's there in those times. You've got to believe that."
Stan believed it, but he never changed. He kept running his kids from basketball practice to soccer, to baseball, to music lessons, to Boy Scouts, to Girl Scouts, with never a moment to spare, not a second left over. Now, he wished he had slowed down. He had income and time before. Now, it was only time to survive, and that was questionable.
Keel had Robert's same mannerisms, the same gentleness, and the same power in his words. Robert might be dead, probably was, but he planted the seeds of righteousness in Keel. Right now, Keel was harvesting every righteous word his father had planted.
"Good for you, Robert," Stan thought.
"I know you're right, Keel, but I've gone too far this time. We haven't been able to pay the mortgage for six months. The bank has already sold it to a group that’s going to convert it into a pawn shop."
Stan continued, "Keel, I really believe God has something great in mind for you. Don't ever forget it," he responded tearfully. Keel helped Stan pack his books, but didn’t speak. Just like Robert, Stan thought. "Never speaking much, but when he did, it really meant something."
Something deep inside Keel made him feel extra compassion for Stan. As they were finishing up, he finally spoke. "Pastor Allen." Stan was relieved to hear "pastor" again. It was as if he had been reprieved.
"Pastor Allen," Keel said, "I love you and your family. Thanks for bringing me to the Lord. When each of us thinks about the value of our lives, it may not be our lives and our own family that’s most important. It may be that God has called us to be that one person at the right time and in the right place to influence someone to make a decision for the Lord as you did with me. That person can affect thousands of others, and they affect many more. The ripple effect of that one single act of faithfulness may be responsible for many more. Someone witnessed to Billy Graham, didn't they?"
Keel’s tone seemed to show his own Godly confidence as he continued, "I don't know about myself. I don’t know what God has planned, but we all must believe we carry a piece of the Godly puzzle for someone else. I want you to promise that you’ll keep bringing kids
like me to the Lord, no matter where you are? Promise that you’ll keep helping kids like me complete the puzzle of their lives. Can you do that.”
Stan grabbed Keel, and they hugged while both cried this time, and it was heart wrenching. It was also a great release of the pent-up pain in Keel. He was carrying much too much for a 16-year-old.
As they loaded up the van, Stan said, "You never did say why you came back tonight, but I believe God wanted you to."
"Oh, that. A gang took over my place today. Do you mind if I hang out at the church awhile? Can't think of a better place to hide."
Stan stood still as if working through a hard math problem and said, "Keel, you don't have a soul left now, do you? You're alone, aren't you?"
"Pastor Allen," he said, "for some reason, I believe I can never really be alone with Jesus in my heart. I know it looks bad; but somehow, it's really okay; it's really fine."
"Keel," Stan said, "do you want to come with me?"
They stood outside staring at each other. Keel looked up into the night sky remembering and said, "No, pastor, I had a dream last night. In the dream, an angel sat beside me on my bed. He put his fingers on my lips to quiet me and said, ‘God needs you. The children need you. There is a place that is safe. When the time is right, speak in My Name, use my anointing, my authority. Wait on Me!’ I can still feel His fingers on my lips. My place is here until God tells me different."
The Holy Spirit witnessed in Stan those same things. He turned to leave and threw the keys to the church saying, "Yes, Keel, you're exactly right. You have to stay. You’ve got two weeks before they come to start remodeling. There's still food in the fridge. God speed, Keel."
"You too, Pastor Allen, you too." Keel turned and walked back into the church. He felt safe here. The quiet matched his own heart. In the silence of the sanctuary, he fell asleep in the front pew. As he faded off he whispered, "I wait on You, My Lord."
Children of the Sanctuary Page 4
