Rapture Advent of the Last Days

by Jocolby Phillips

  As Jackson walked toward the memorial service, it was a sobering fact that Rev was gone, but Jackson could not deny the impact Rev had made on his life in such a short time. He promised himself he would explore what Rev had called the gift of salvation. It was the least he could do to honor the man.

  * * *

  Christopher began the memorial as Jackson joined the group in the back. The major’s firm tone contradicted the endless emotions with which he had wrestled over the last few days. He focused heavily on his handwritten notes to steady his shaky composure. He began with administrative data, fighting a wave of panic and nausea as he announced, “The team will be heading back to the States at 0300 tonight.” Gaining strength, he went on to say that their fallen teammates were being flown back to Dover Air Force Base, Delaware, in about an hour and funeral details would follow shortly. He paused longer than he intended before he was able to continue with the memorial by making some comments regarding the men who had lost their lives that night. He started by briefly recounting anecdotes about the two other men on his team, trying to build up to discussing Rev. Finally he could delay no longer. “Brett Councilman was an outstanding brother-in-arms.”

  “Who’s Brett Councilman?” a single voice shouted from the rear of the gathering, providing the major a respite of levity and causing most of the men to laugh.Christopher said, “Brett Councilman, aka Rev, was not only one of the greatest special operations soldiers I’ve ever seen but also one of the best men I’ve ever known.” As the tears streamed down his cheeks and dripped onto his notes, he stopped speaking momentarily to compose himself. It was in this momentary pause that the still, small voice spoke once again in his heart: “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.”

  Christopher seemed buoyed by the voice and finished his remarks on Rev in a manner that emphasized his impact on the team. He eulogized Rev as a man of unshakeable faith and principle. “Rev cared for you whether or not you believed his views. I know he has impacted all of us profoundly, and his trust in God defined him as his often-quoted favorite verses of scripture highlight.

  “I am sure anyone who knew Rev could recite the verses from Psalm 91: ‘He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress; My God, in Him I will trust.’” Christopher concluded the memorial by saying, “Rev’s trust in God made him a man of conviction. Let us all live our lives with such confidence in honor of the man we called Rev.”

  Jackson took a detail of soldiers to Rev’s quarters to box up his personal effects. As the men were placing his clothes and other items in boxes, Jackson was drawn to Rev’s makeshift nightstand that was littered with looseleaf paper, a journal of some sort, and a worn Bible.

  “Hey, Sarge, we’re done. You coming?” a soldier asked Jackson, who remained sitting on Rev’s bed.

  “No, you guys head out. I’ll catch up in a few minutes,” Jackson replied. He became enthralled by Rev’s study journal and his Bible that was tabbed and highlighted, seemingly on every page. Turning off the single light in the room, he thought, There is no better way to honor Rev than to study what made him so passionate about God.

  * * *

  After a routine but uncomfortable military flight out of Mosul, Christopher was glad to be in a secluded airline lounge with a few hours to relax before taking a commercial airline back to Washington, D.C. He always loved people watching, and as many times as he had flown out of Kuwait City International Airport, this particular view never grew old. The clashing of Western and Middle Eastern cultures was intriguing.

  The major watched his team of elite soldiers, now dressed in casual attire, seamlessly blend into the backdrop of businessmen and women in various forms of clothing, from skintight to traditional suits. It was a sign of the times and how things had changed in the ten years since Christopher had been traveling the world and visiting business lounges, where he saw a group of young adults wearing T-shirts, hoodies, and jeans—likely software engineers, given away by their nonconformist “Silicon Valley uniform.” All of this was in contrast to the view outside the lounge, emphasized by a group of Islamic women wearing niqabs as a statement of their modesty.

  As Christopher watched an American businessman and his presumed spouse kissing, he thought about how he missed his wife Erin. Over the last year she had become so demanding about his attending church with her. In fact she had pressed him so hard to “mend his relationship with the Lord” that he had left their shared Alexandria, Virginia, townhome six months ago to live with a group of old Army buddies in the D.C. area.

  Erin returned to her family’s farm near Harrisonburg, Virginia, a few months after he left, placing their future as a couple in question. Christopher loved Erin dearly but found her zeal and unquestioning trust in Jesus Christ overbearing and unattractive; she was the one who had put God first in their relationship, leaving him feeling like a third wheel. He felt Erin had caused their rift and wished they could go back to the days when she relied on and trusted him more than she did God.

  Christopher pulled out his cell phone, and sure enough Erin had left him a message—typical for her when he was away on a mission. He sighed and checked his watch. Two in the morning in Kuwait City made it six in the evening in Virginia. He placed the call.

  Erin answered halfway through a sentence or two. “Yes, Mom, it’s him. I am sure it’s him. I’ve got it…hello,” she said then offered a laugh.

  Christopher should have known she would answer like that, but he chuckled all the same. “Hello, Erin.”

  Erin told him how worried she had been and how things had been going with her parents, knowing she could not share his professional life—a fact she had begrudgingly accepted years ago. She just focused on what she could talk about—his welfare.

  “Well, it’ll be good to get back to D.C. I am looking forward to a few days’ off,” Christopher confessed.

  “I have been praying for you…” A pause, and then she continued and said, “For us. Maybe you can come down when you get back so we can talk.”

  Christopher only heard Erin say “praying,” which caused him to sigh aloud. “I see you’re still a Bible thumper.”

  Erin’s voice seemed thick as she said, “I asked you not to call me that or to make fun of my faith.”

  Christopher instantly felt his stomach turn and, trying to apologize, began saying, “Erin, I—” But she cut him off. “Chris, I understand why you think God is not real and that He has been absent from your life. I get it. However, I don’t comprehend how someone so bright and perceptive could miss how much God has done for you.” Feeling a surge of courage to stand up for her faith, Erin continued. “You have completed countless high-risk missions and walked away to tell the tale, acknowledging that you shouldn’t have made it out alive on more than one occasion. Just think back to Israel three years ago. How can you not see that the possibility of God’s active presence in our lives is more than credible?

  “I love you, Chris. I pray you begin to understand and trust God above yourself before God has to put you through some experience that brings you to your knees in order to bring you back to Him.” Erin, sobbing now, pleadingly added, “Don’t miss your opportunity to receive God’s gift of salvation.” And with those words Christopher’s phone went silent.

  I wish I could tell Erin how much she means to me. Why did I have to treat her faith so callously? Why do I let it anger me so profoundly when someone places their trust in God? I know she has a point about trusting God over myself, but I just can’t buy into having to submit myself to God.

  Christopher, catching his reflection in a mirrored wall in the lounge, barely recognized himself as he gazed at the image through bloodshot brown eyes. Now in his mid-thirties, his six-foot-tall athletic frame, defined by years of rigorous exercise, seemed fragile. The stress of a failed mission, his crumbling marriage, and the raging war for his soul being played out between that still, small vo
ice and his mind made him look ten years older.

  As the boarding announcement for his team’s flight back to Washington came across the PA system, Christopher watched Jackson approach with a pensive look on his face.

  “You look older than me tonight, boss,” Jackson remarked with a small smile.But the major didn’t bite on the attempt at humor, instead responding, “What’s up?”

  Jackson wanted to ask Christopher the same but thought better of it. He instead conveyed the message sent by Colonel Delmar with the debriefing schedule attached. “There’s going to be a full day of questions about what went wrong. Colonel Delmar said to expect some heat.”

  Christopher replied flatly, “Great. Well, there goes my few days off, but I expected some blowback.”

  “You’re not going in there alone. I’ll delay my trip back to Tampa until after the debriefings,” Jackson responded.

  Christopher smiled tiredly. “You know, you caring about people is going to get you into trouble one day.”

  Jackson laughed. “Man, I know. You’re a terrible influence on me. And before you ask, I gave the rest of the team seventy-two hours off.” After a short pause, he started again. “Hey, about blowing up at you about the Bible study and Rev—”

  Christopher cut him off. “Don’t worry about it, Jackson. I could see from the first time you met Rev that you were impressed with him far beyond his soldiering skills.”

  Jackson thanked him with a smile as the boarding announcement was made for their flight. The two men left the lounge and headed toward the gate for the long trip to Washington, D.C.

  CHAPTER 2

  As Christopher and his team made their way onto the U.S.-government-chartered 787, he felt the dismissive glances and whispers of the State Department personnel seated in the premium cabin. He knew the look—a look that viewed his team as a tool that was dirty and unrefined, like a toilet brush. Most of the government outside of the Department of Defense saw his team as a necessity, but not something worthy of acknowledgment. He was glad to find the State Department flight relatively empty, allowing him to have a three-seat row to himself. As the jet climbed effortlessly into the night sky, leaving the trouble of the Middle East behind for another day, Christopher fought to flush the thought of the doomed mission out of his head.

  Erin’s last words over the phone seemed destined to make this an even longer flight. “Don’t miss the opportunity to receive God’s gift of salvation.” Rev had said something similar in his last Bible study. Christopher, if he was honest with himself, thought that a lot of what he had experienced over the previous several years were perhaps God providing him opportunities to accept His salvation. None stood out more than the Russian-led invasion of Israel, which should have pushed him to God like Erin had suggested. Yet as his eyes closed, he felt no closer to God tonight than he did after visiting Israel three and half years ago. Though it likely appeared to others that Christopher sank into a restless sleep, in reality the Israel mission began to play in his mind like a mid-flight movie.

  * * *

  Christopher asked the seemingly harmless question of why his team was being called on to protect the SecDef in Israel. “Isn’t that a job for the Pentagon Force Protection Agency?”

  Colonel Delmar swore before barking, “Barrett, I think I know the role and mission of Omega Group as its commander.”

  Christopher liked pushing Delmar’s buttons but acknowledged his task with a simple, “Yes, sir.”

  “Now, if there are no more interruptions,” Colonel Delmar continued, glancing at Christopher who raised his hands in a gesture of mock surrender, “I will tell you the details of the mission. The president feels like this conflict in Israel may not be over, but wants to get to the bottom of why Israel can still be found on a map this morning. Omega is the best at getting an individual or a group out of situations that seem impossible, hence the reason you boys are taking this little vacation to the Middle East.

  “You will be traveling to view the destruction that the Israelis leveled against the Russian-Iranian alliance two days ago. The Intelligence Community has convinced the president that the reports coming out of Jerusalem are wrong and that the Israelis have a new superweapon. Your job is to protect the SecDef as he tours the country to see the battlefield firsthand.

  “Christopher, your team will embed into the SecDef’s security detail, just in case things go sideways while the SecDef is on the ground. If needed, you’ll get the SecDef safely out of the country. Additionally I want you, Christopher, to provide an assessment of what occurred. You will depart from Andrews Air Force Base at 1800.”

  Colonel Delmar concluded the meeting, but as staffers and members of Christopher’s team headed out to prepare, Delmar stopped Christopher. “Barrett, keep your head on a swivel. Something strange happened over there. No telling what you’ll find.”

  Christopher found it odd for the unemotional Colonel Delmar to express concern, but he chalked it up to stress as he watched Delmar proceed down the hall yelling at some hapless staff officer before leaving the Pentagon for yet another unique mission.

  Christopher designated six men from the twelve-man Omega Group for the trip, with Rev serving as his second-in-command. As Rev and Christopher were discussing potential alternative evacuation routes in the executive terminal at Andrews Air Base, a bulky over-cologned man approached the two of them.

  He asked, “Which one of you is in charge of the military guys?”

  “That would be me,” Christopher replied.

  “Look, you guys just stay out of the way, and this will be an easy few days for all of us,” the protection agent demanded.

  “Hey, officer,” Christopher said, purposefully demoting the power-obsessed protection agent, “we are here to do a job and do it professionally. And by the way, it’s Major Barrett.”

  “Major Barrett, is it? It’s not officer, but Special Agent in Charge Dewberry, and I don’t want any loose cannon hero types screwing up, so just toe the line. Remember, Barrett, I have the ear of the SecDef.”

  Christopher took a step toward Special Agent Dewberry, but Rev grabbed his arm, saying, “We got it, Special Agent Dewberry, you’re in charge. Have a great day.” Dewberry paused as if to respond, but left in true Hollywood fashion: walking away abruptly as he raised a hand to his earbud and loudly replied that he copied some order.

  “Wow, what was that guy’s deal?” Christopher wondered aloud.

  “Who knows? You know people always get uptight when military guys wear suits and are ‘helping’ with security.” In a low voice Rev added, “Forget him. Aren’t you excited to be heading to the Holy Land?”

  Christopher was not in the mood for a sermon. “No, I am just ready to get this trip done quietly.”

  Rev, undeterred and as giddy as a child before Christmas morning, began to describe what he saw as the reason for Israel’s overwhelming victory as the men left the terminal to board their flight to Israel.

  Christopher had a momentary reprieve from Rev’s latest sermon as the two climbed the stairs of Nightwatch, the code name of the SecDef’s plane, and the engines roared to life. Unfortunately, as soon as Rev and Christopher found their seats near the rear of the aircraft, the sermon continued.

  Christopher laughed. “You know, I shouldn’t have chosen you for this mission! What was I thinking to bring a preacher to Israel?”

  “You need me for one, and two, what better tour guide of the Holy Land than me?” Rev replied with a chuckle.

  Christopher laughed as he buckled up. “Okay, Rev, let’s hear your theory on what happened.”

  Rev, seated adjacent to Christopher, grew solemn and stared out into the cabin before replying, “Are you sure you want to listen to this message?”

  “Yeah, I want to understand your take on what occurred. It seems everyone has a theory, so why would I refuse to listen to yours?”

  “You would resist my perspective if it centered on God,” Rev replied without turning to face Christopher.

>   “Rev, you’re right. It’s hard for me to believe anything dealing with God. However, I am also open to hearing your thoughts. Besides, if the reports are even half accurate regarding what happened a couple of days ago, I would say God is back.”

  “He’s always been here, Christopher. You’re the one who has yet to accept His presence,” Rev retorted, evidently failing to see the humor in Christopher’s last comment.

  “My apologies. I know you’re serious about your faith,” Christopher said, feeling a bit embarrassed.

  “Apology accepted. There’s so much to tell you about this incident, but I’ll spare you the dissertation.”

  Christopher wanted to say thanks but realized his humor might not go over well once again. Instead, silent and attentive, he listened as Rev proceeded.

  “The Bible foretold of an event that bears a resemblance to the recent Russian-led invasion of Israel in the book of Ezekiel. The event is called the War of Gog and Magog.” Rev laid out his outline of the invasion as the Nightwatch rocketed off the Atlantic seaboard toward Israel. “The timing and nations involved in this were all foretold in the Bible, Christopher. And this war could be a significant step toward the start of the tribulation. This is really an exciting time to be alive.”

  “I am excited and all ears for the next fourteen hours,” Christopher responded.

  “I wish you were less mouth,” Rev shot back. “Okay, the major players in the biblical battle are likely Russia and Iran,” Rev explained.

  “Wait, why do you say likely Russia and Iran? We know they were the leaders in the event from a few days ago,” Christopher questioned.