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On the way, Abdullah asked Khalid what he had heard from his own family.
"They are safe, praise Allah. But of course they are terrified, as we all are. No one can imagine what has happened."
Twenty minutes later the chopper kicked up a cloud of sand as Khalid put down in the narrow, steeply inclined space between Abdullah's former home and the house behind it. Abdullah was immediately struck by the absence of children. His was a neighborhood full of families mostly larger than his, and by this time of the morning it was usually teeming with activity, children of all ages running around. Now all he saw were wailing adults and a few teenagers, wandering, horror etched on their faces.
"Would you like me to go in with you, Ya BekV
"No, thank you, friend. I'll be right back."
As soon as Abdullah entered the back door, he was overcome by the odor of burned food. He rushed to the tiny kitchen to find a pan over an open flame, the residue of falafel and hummus blackened and smoking. Abdullah grabbed a towel and slung the red-hot pan into the sink, quickly turning off the gas. Only then did he realize he was standing on something.
Yasmine's thiyab was underfoot, and as Abdullah stepped back, he realized her undergarments and slippers were there too. In all their years together he had never known her to leave her clothes on the floor, even in the bedroom. Clearly she had been standing here. Yasmine had long made a practice of rising before the
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family and waking them with the smell of breakfast cooking.
He moved to the tiny bedroom the children shared. There, on their mats, lay their nightclothes. Abdullah's mind tried to play tricks on him, to tell him this was a mistake, that his family was elsewhere, that there was some explanation for the appearance that they had disappeared right out of their clothes.
But he knew the truth. In a stupor, his hands shaking, Abdullah grabbed the children's clothes, picked up Yasmine's outer garments, and walked stiff legged back to the copter.
As he climbed in, Khalid said, "What, Ya Bek} Are they all right?"
Abdullah could not speak. He shook his head.
"Gone?"
Abdullah nodded, lips quivering.
"You want to go back to the base?"
He nodded again, and yielding to emotion so overpowering that he was incapable of keeping himself from doing something he had never before done in front of another man, Abdullah buried his face in the clothes of his beloved family and wept.
Again Irene was fascinated that she merely knew what was going on without anyone saying so. Somehow God revealed to her--and, of course, to everyone else at the same time--that it was time for the next phase of the
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bema or the judgment seat of Christ. Works were to be tested by fire to see what remained and what ignited like kindling, and then the judged would receive from Jesus at least praise for trusting Him for salvation but ideally one or more of four separate crowns.
The Crown of Life would be awarded to those who had remained faithful through trials, some even to the point of martyrdom. Irene was reminded of the admonition in the book of James: "My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience.... Blessed is the man who endures temptation; for when he has been approved, he will receive the crown of life which the Lord has promised to those who love Him."
Pastor Billings had recently taught on the statement of Jesus Himself from John's Revelation: "Do not fear any of those things which you are about to suffer. Indeed, the devil is about to throw some of you into prison, that you may be tested, and you will have tribulation ten days. Be faithful until death, and I will give you the crown of life.... Behold, I am coming quickly! Hold fast what you have, that no one may take your crown. He who overcomes, I will make him a pillar in the temple of My God, and he shall go out no more. I will write on him the name of My God and the name of the city of My God, the New Jerusalem, which comes down out of heaven from My God. And I will write on him My new name."
The Crown of Righteousness was reserved for those who had eagerly awaited the Lord's return. Irene had
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long admired this in the apostle Paul, who, when standing in the courts of Rome, had been more concerned about the court of heaven.
For I am already being poured out as a drink offering, and the time of my departure is at hand. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Finally, there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will give to me on that Day, and not to me only but also to all who have loved His appearing.
The Crown of Glory was promised to those who had shepherded God's flock with pure motives. Irene enjoyed hearing Pastor Billings talk about the heavy weight of stewardship and accountability he felt to serve willingly rather than out of some compulsion. He often cited 1 Peter in relation to his calling:
Shepherd the flock of God which is among you, serving as overseers, not by compulsion but willingly, not for dishonest gain but eagerly; nor as being lords over those entrusted to you, but being examples to the flock; and when the Chief Shepherd appears, you will receive the crown of glory that does not fade away.
The Crown of Rejoicing would go to the soul winner. Paul had written to the Thessalonians:
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For what is our hope, or joy, or crown of rejoicing? Is it not even you in the presence of our Lord Jesus Christ at His coming? For you are our glory and joy.
To the Philippians he had written:
Therefore, my beloved and longed-for brethren, my joy and crown, so stand fast in the Lord, beloved.
In John 4, Jesus taught that those who shared His passion for the lost and were active in evangelism were gathering fruit for eternal life. "Behold, I say to you, lift up your eyes and look at the fields, for they are already white for harvest! And he who reaps receives wages, and gathers fruit for eternal life, that both he who sows and he who reaps may rejoice together. For in this the saying is true: "One sows and another reaps.""
Khalid carefully set the chopper down on the tarmac at the Amman air base and asked Abdullah if there was anything he could do for him.
Abdullah shook his head, his jaw set and his lips pressed together. Still tears escaped him. "Thank you, my friend," he managed hoarsely.
The walk to his quarters, fewer than a hundred steps, seemed the longest of his life. He dropped his family's clothes onto his cot and knelt next to them. "Dear God," he sobbed, "does it matter that I am coming to You out
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of fear and remorse? I believe You exist because of what has happened. I don't know about this matter of being a sinner, but I know I am not perfect, not even close. Please, if I am to believe in Jesus, make it plain to me. I know I do not measure up to You, a God so mighty and powerful that He can make people disappear. It seems to me I have no choice, and so I need to know whether my motive is pure enough."
Suddenly Abdullah realized that he was not facing east, not praying toward Mecca, not addressing Allah but rather the God of his wife, the God who had clearly made hundreds of millions vanish from around the globe. And yet the Jordanian man somehow knew, was touched deep within his heart and soul, that this God was hearing him. With everything else that had to be on His mind, with the unnumbered prayers that must be rising to Him right now, He was listening; He was communicating.
Abdullah felt loved. Now here was a God worthy of fear, worthy of praise, worthy of devotion. No longer was he undecided about his status as a sinner. He slid from the pile of his family's clothes on his cot until he was prostrate on the floor. Somehow the weight of his imperfection bore down on him in the presence of the one true God.
Abdullah began to weep anew. "I am unworthy, God. I see myself for who I am. Selfish. Prideful. Lustful. Angry. Unloving. Mean-spirited. Can You forgive me?"
It was as if God was speaking directly to his heart. Abdullah was reminded of everything Yasmine had said
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and written. Everyone was born in sin. There was "none righteous, no, not one." And even though some people seemed better and nicer and less selfish than others, all were hopelessly lost in their sin. They fell short of God's perfection and needed Christ's sacrificial death on the cross as payment for their sins. And how was it that one appropriated that for his own life? He was merely to believe and receive it?
"I believe and receive!" Abdullah cried out. "Forgive me and save me from my sins. Make me one of Your own children!"
As he lay there sobbing, Abdullah was overwhelmed by a sense of peace. The loss of his family was biting and bitter and deep, and he knew on some level that he could lay such a tragedy on the very One to whom he was now pledging himself. But Abdullah also understood that this act of God had a purpose. It had been prophesied. Yasmine had told him that God might someday intrude so dramatically into human affairs that no one would be able to doubt His existence.
Abdullah stood shakily and sat on the cot, running his fingers over the clothes of his loved ones. Tears dropped from his chin to his lap. He had no idea where to go or what to do next, but he felt like a different man. What would his new God want of him? He was desperate to find someone who understood, but would they not all be gone?
In the meantime, he would serve God the only way he knew how. Abdullah would be the best servant, the best military man, the best pilot, the most giving person he
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could be. He would find a Bible; Yasmine had one at home. He would study it, look for books that might help explain it. And he would pray that perhaps God would bring into his life others who were only now realizing that they had missed the truth. Surely there would be others on this vast planet who found themselves in the same spiritual place as he.
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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Everything in God's house stopped. Irene had not even considered that billions of people, all in one place, were capable of producing no sound. But the stillness pervaded, and she could imagine no greater feeling of anticipation. Anytime anything here changed, something important was about to happen. She scanned the great hall, watching to see if Jesus would stand, listening for God to speak, looking to see if one of the twenty-four elders would step forward.
But no, just several seconds of silence. And then, suddenly, a crashing burst of music from the thousands upon thousands of angels behind the throne and attending the gates. In a sustained, harmonic eruption, on perfect cue they sang just one word:
"HALLELUJAH!"
Slowly, throughout the house of God, people began
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applauding, cheering, and murmuring. This was how the angels rejoiced when someone on Earth received Christ. Such outbursts began to come more and more frequently as the fire and Bema judgments continued. Sometimes three or four hallelujahs would be sung at once, then, after a moment, ten or twelve more.
The longer Irene was there, the more celebrations of conversions surged from the angels, and the saints applauded and cheered. Would this ever get old? Irene could not imagine.
Every so often, newcomers would join the throng, clearly those who had just died, some having been believers for only hours. Irene prayed that some of the rejoicing was for Rayford and Chloe and that they would reunite with her seven Earth years later at the establishment of the millennial kingdom.
Irene's new heart was warmed by insight. As she sat thrilling to the fire test and the awarding of crowns to believers from every tongue and tribe and nation, she realized that she had lost her fear of shame. Irene was no longer worried about being humiliated in front of others because of her sin. What God seemed to be implanting in her mind and, she knew, in the minds of everyone else too, was that this was not a sin judgment.
Her sins, as well as the sins of all the other saints, had been dealt with long ago on the cross. They had already been removed as far as the east is from the west, so there were no sins to be tested in the fire. What, then, would be considered dross and burn away to leave only the precious metals and stones? Irene
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knew, as if Pastor Billings or even God had been sitting next to her, advising her.
Her work for the Kingdom would go into the fire along with everything else she had done--apart from her sin--and the wasted time, the frivolous things, the activities not devoted to eternity, would be burned away. The time she spent nurturing and serving her family would surely survive. Her church attendance and Bible reading, personal devotions, acts of service, recreation to refresh herself for more of the same, exercise to keep herself fit for service--all those would survive the fire and be burnished to a beautiful glow.
But what of the times she had not been educating or inspiring herself? What of the time she simply wasted on trivial matters, on things of interest but not of value? Irene was reminded of time frittered away on things that had little meaning beyond diversion. There were movies and TV shows that quickly proved other than educational or even uplifting, which she could have turned off in order to make better use of her time. Books that proved titillating but pointless. Shopping sprees merely to make herself feel better, short of anything she really needed.
Irene did not get the impression that she had been expected to fill every waking moment with acts of service. But clearly it was true that only what was done for Christ would last. Much of her life had been filled with stuff... not wrong, not sin, just waste.
One of the most delightful parts of the Bema Judgment, to Irene, was how Jesus handled the people who
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had been nearly anonymous on Earth. People who worked with their hands were lauded if they had performed their tasks as unto the Lord, rather than unto men. They may have been engaged in work as routine as auto mechanics or carpentry or shipping. But if they had dedicated themselves to Christ and worked to honor Him--especially when coworkers slacked or management was dishonest or others cut corners--Jesus had high praise for them. They were rewarded on par with those who had dedicated themselves to full-time Christian work in which their income was garnered from ministry. In fact, some of the latter found that more of their works were burned to waste than survived, due to poor motives or laziness.
Musicians--singers, composers, and instrumentalists-- were surprised to hear the heavenly choir break into their songs. But Irene's favorite musical moment was when the famed blind gospel hymn writer Fanny Crosby, who had penned some nine thousand songs before her death in 1915, came leaping with joy at her ability to see.
Her works were tested in the fire, and all that was left were precious metals and gemstones. From the silver and gold Jesus fashioned a beautiful, simple crown, embedded with the gems that had been forged in the fire, and presented to her the Crown of Life for living through her trial of blindness and glorifying Him nonetheless. He also gave her the Crown of Righteousness for clearly loving the hope of His appearing, as well as the Crown of Rejoicing for the fact that her work brought so many souls into the Kingdom.
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Jesus said, "Well done, good and faithful servant. Would you sing for me?"
Mrs. Crosby knelt and covered her mouth with both hands, but the heavenly host cheered and she began, backed by an eternal chorus nonpareil. From "Pass Me Not, O Gentle Savior" she sang lyrics she adapted on the spot:
Finally at Thy throne of mercy I find sweet relief, Kneeling here in deep contrition; No more unbelief.
Jesus stood and stepped from the throne, standing beside Mrs. Crosby as she continued to sing from another of her most famous hymns:
When my life work is ended, and I cross the swelling tide,
When the bright and glorious morning I shall see; I shall know my Redeemer when I reach the other side, And His smile will be the first to welcome me.
Oh, the dear ones in glory, how they beckon me to come,
And our parting at the river I recall; To the sweet vales of Eden they will sing my
welcome home; But I long to meet my Savior first of all.
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Through the gates to the city in a robe of spotless
white,
He will lead me where no tears will ever fall; In the glad song of ages I shall mingle with delight; But I long to meet my Savior first of all.
And with that, the entire heavenly host, including Irene and all the redeemed saints, stood to sing:
I shall know Him, I shall know Him, And redeemed by His side I shall stand, I shall know Him, I shall know Him, By the print of the nails in His hand.
Rayford Steele's mind was on a woman he had never touched. With his fully loaded 747 on autopilot above the Atlantic en route to a landing at Heathrow, Rayford had pushed from his mind thoughts of his family. Over spring break he would spend time with Irene and Raymie. Chloe would be home from Stanford too. But for now, with First Officer Chris Smith breaking the rules by dozing, Rayford imagined Hattie's smile and looked forward to their next meeting. He hadn't seen her in more than an hour.
Rayford used to look forward to getting home to Irene. She was attractive and vivacious enough, even at forty. But lately he had been repelled by her obsession with religion. It was all she could talk about. Rayford
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tried to tell himself it was her devotion to a divine suitor that caused his mind to wander. But he knew the real reason was his own libido.
Besides, Hattie Durham was drop-dead gorgeous. No one could argue that.
Maybe today. Maybe this morning, if her coded tap on the cockpit door didn't rouse Chris, he would reach and cover the hand on his shoulder--in a friendly way he knew she would recognize as a step, the first from his side, toward a relationship.
In a couple of hours Rayford would be the first to see hints of the sun, a teasing palette of pastels that would signal the reluctant dawn over the continent. Until then, the stars this far above the clouds shone brightly through the window. His groggy or sleeping passengers had window shades down, pillows and blankets in place. For now the plane was a dark, humming sleep chamber for all but a few wanderers--the attendants and one or two responders to nature's call.