BOOK EXCERPT: “Seventh Dimension – The Prescience: A Young Adult Fantasy,” Shavuot and Coronavirus - Will God Heal Our Land Fifty Days After Passover

We were all locked up in our houses for Passover, in Israel, the United States, and around the world. This is the first time since the original Passover, when Moses lead the Israelites out of Egypt, that Passover has been a Festival when both Israelis and Christians have been hidden inside our homes.

I truly believe at Pentecost, or Shavuot, we will see something amazing happen. Will God heal our land? Will He send Covid-19 into oblivion?  

As a Christian, I'm praying for God to do a miracle, one that the critics will not be able to refute, one that even the naysayers will be forced to admit can only be from God.

Even if nothing happens, we have made a difference simply by praying. We have been obedient by acknowledging God's power and purpose in all of this. God allowed the coronavirus to infect our planet. In a twist of fate, the globalists got what they wanted - globalism in a pandemic.

But God takes the works of evil and uses it to glorify Him in a way that is profound and shocking. I know my Redeemer lives, and I know He is returning, perhaps sooner than many think. I'm excited to see the signs spoken of in the Bible harkening His soon return.

Below is an excerpt from Seventh Dimension - The Prescience, the fifth book in the Seventh Dimension Series, where Shale and Daniel, time travelers, experience the first Shavuot fifty days after Passover when Yeshua died on the cross for the salvation of all. 

The Jews rejected their Messiah. If only the Jews could recognize Yeshua’s death on the cross as The Holocaust, but God will open their eyes at the appointed time. Until then, Christians must occupy, sharing the Gospel, revealing God’s love, and acting as God’s ambassadors all over the world. Time is short. Expect miracles. Pray for the salvation of many.

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CHAPTER 26

THE CROWDED STREETS of the Upper City soon grabbed my attention as every blade of green grass and stone walkway was occupied.

Near the Temple Mount, a long procession of worshippers filled the courtyard. Hundreds of oxen decorated in flowery garlands were loaded down with fruits and grains. Children carried small baskets of figs and dates.

“This reminds me of an American parade,” I said.

Daniel waved his hand. “This is the festival of Shavuot, more commonly known to Christians as Pentecost.” As we neared the Temple entrance, the breathtaking view overwhelmed me. Thousands of visitors could fit inside the courtyard, not counting the animals. The crowd extended past the city 

gates and up the hills overlooking Jerusalem.

Daniel headed to the Temple entrance.

“Is it always like this?” I asked.

Daniel squeezed my hand. “Jewish travelers come from everywhere. It’s one of the three Jewish pilgrimages.”

How could Daniel share anything as significant as Jesus with Nidal here? Wouldn’t a quiet place be better? He spoke to Nidal, and I started to ask him to repeat it when the shofar blasted. Singing followed, and the praises of worshippers filled my ears. I caught some of the Hebrew words.

“He brought us to this place and has given us this land, a land flowing with milk and honey; and now, behold, I have brought the first fruits of the land which you, O Lord, have given me.”

“Let’s make our offering first, and then we’ll go to Solomon’s Porch,” Daniel said.

We waited our turn amongst hundreds of others. The air was cool despite the bright morning sun, and there was plenty of activity around us to fill the boredom of standing in line.

After waiting close to an hour, we made our offering. I’d never seen anything like this in America except at sporting events. Seeing humanity pressed in on all sides to worship was unprecedented. Getting students to attend our prayer meetings and Bible study at school paled in comparison.

Gradually at first, the wind began to stir. Soon it became stronger, but I was distracted by a woman’s voice. “Daniel!”

The voice was familiar. Seconds later, I recognized the young girl. Lilly waved her hand as she pressed toward us. I remembered Daniel praying with her in the synagogue over her father. Was she from this time or our future?

Daniel greeted her warmly. “Lilly, this is my betrothed, Shale.”

Lilly took my arm and nudged me as she shouted to Daniel. “Follow me. Peter and the disciples are at Solomon’s Porch. They have been here all morning praying.”

We picked our way through the masses as the wind increased. My anticipation mounted. However, it wasn’t a wild wind that blew. It went where it wanted.

“Daniel!” The wind circled over the Temple, descending as a whirlwind. I saw heaven open, and a voice that sounded like thunderous waters proclaimed, “And it shall come to pass that whoever calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.”

The disciples stood in a semicircle facing the crowd as hundreds gathered around. The Zephyr descended zigzagging through the Temple columns, and tongues of fire alighted upon the disciples and their followers.

Almost immediately, fire transformed them. Words of praise left their lips as hope danced on their faces. A supernatural peace settled over the Temple, and the disciples and others began to speak in tongues.

I heard English. How could that be? I lifted my eyes to heaven and raised my hands in celebration. Quite unexpectedly, I saw the risen Christ bathed in white light sitting on his throne.

Peter shouted for all to hear. “This Jesus has been exalted to the right hand of God, and we receive the Holy Spirit, that which you now see and hear.”

Several exclaimed, “I’m hearing you in my own tongue. How can that be?”

The people waved and stared as signs and wonders filled the Temple. Nidal shouted, “I’m hearing the words of Muhammad in Nepali. I’ve never heard Muhammad speak.”

I clasped Daniel’s arm, concerned that Nidal thought he was hearing Muhammad and not Jesus, but 

Daniel reassured me. “Let God speak.”

People were talking at once. I caught bits and pieces of several conversations.

“I’m hearing Peter in Arabic,” a foreigner exclaimed.

“I’m hearing him in Greek,” another shouted.

“Peter can’t speak Greek,” a woman interrupted. “He’s a fisherman from Galilee.”

“He’s speaking Aramaic,” another man said.

“Then why am I hearing him in Parthian?” a visitor asked. “I thought worship in the Temple was only in Hebrew.”

The crowd swelled around Solomon’s Porch as the winds of fire soared over the heads of eyewitnesses. The tongues alighted on some of the listeners, and they spoke in other languages. The multitude questioned each other. “Are these not Galileans? How is it that we’re hearing them in our own tongue?”

A few standing nearby mocked the disciples. “They are full of new wine.”

Fear crossed the faces of the Roman guards as they stared into the heavens. Nothing in their plethora of Roman gods could explain this event. Did they consider this was related to the death of Jesus whom they’d crucified seven weeks earlier?

I felt the electricity in the air—a supernatural kind that settled over the Temple environs. We were witnessing the fulfillment of the fourth of God’s seven festivals. The next festival to be fulfilled would be the Feast of Trumpets—and my thoughts ran amok contemplating that future event.

The murmurs increased, and I feared a riot might erupt. Then Peter stood on a table and addressed the onlookers. “Men of Judea and those who dwell in Jerusalem, let this be known to you and heed my words.

“For these men and women are not drunk, as you suppose, since it is only the third hour of the day. But this is what was spoken by the prophet Joel: ‘It shall come to pass in the last days that I will pour out my spirit on all flesh; your sons and your daughters shall prophesy. Your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams.’”

Peter raised his hands and quoted from God’s book. “‘And on my menservants and on my maidservants, I will pour out my spirit in those days, and they shall prophesy. I will show wonders in heaven above, and signs in the earth beneath; blood and fire and vapor of smoke. The sun shall be turned into darkness, and the moon into blood, before the coming of the great and awesome day of the Lord. And it shall come to pass that whoever calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.’”

I remembered my dream. The sun turning dark could be a solar eclipse, but what could a red moon mean except something in the atmosphere turning it red—like fire?

Peter explained what happened. “Jesus of Nazareth, the Son of God, seven weeks ago, was put to death by crucifixion. On the third day, he rose from the dead. Even now in heaven, Christ sits on the throne.”

Peter said Jesus told them to wait in Jerusalem until he sent the gift of the Holy Spirit. Those present saw that outpouring. He quoted again from the Scriptures. “For David did not ascend into the heavens, but he said, ‘The Lord said to my Lord, sit at my right hand, till I make your enemies your footstool.’”

Thousands on the Temple Mount heard Peter’s sermon, and many threw up their hands in contrite prayers of repentance. When the people realized the truth of Peter’s words, many hearts trembled with fear. Some asked, “What must we do?”

Peter replied, “Repent and be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins, and you shall receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.”

Thousands came forward.

The mikvahs, large baths for ceremonial washing, were set up along the southern walls of the Temple Mount at the base of the double-gate stairs. Lines began to form. I’d never seen a turning to God by so many at one time. I leaned into Daniel. “This is the beginning of the church age.”

Daniel smiled. “I know.”

I glanced at Nidal who appeared stunned. Daniel draped his arm around his shoulder and spoke in his ear. I turned my attention to the Temple entrance. Some people were dispersing, unmoved by what they saw.

I shook my head in disbelief that anyone could walk away from God’s gift of the Holy Spirit. What else could God have done to show his perfect love to a perverse generation that missed his visitation? I remembered the words of Jesus, “For many are called, but few are chosen.”

After several minutes of intense discussion, Daniel relayed to me what Nidal said.

“Nidal wants to talk to me, and I can’t hear him here. Let’s go to another part of the Temple away from the noise.”

“Do you think he’ll tell you about your father?”

Daniel rubbed the nape of his neck. “If I don’t press too hard. He is quite shaken by what we’ve witnessed.”

Daniel led the way. I prayed as we walked that God would work a miracle. Since women weren’t allowed in the inner sanctum of the Temple, we stayed in the outer court. Daniel found a small portico, and we sat on some benches inside the columns that buttressed the wall.

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WHAT RESURRECTION SUNDAY SHOWED ME DURING THE 2020 CORONAVIRUS PANDEMIC: Devotional by Lorilyn Roberts

Christians will remember 2020 as the year we celebrated Easter Sunday at home. My House of Worship had its Easter Service on YouTube, and around a hundred other Creeksiders attended virtually with me. A few hours later, my younger daughter and I ate a home-cooked meal. Then we rested—which is what the Sabbath should be, a day of rest.

The closest semblance to this Easter is when I celebrated Shabbat in Israel in January 1991. That was a few days before the U.S. launched Operation Desert Storm. In stark contrast to the United States, Israel shuts everything down for the Sabbath. Restaurants, shops, and even grocery stores are closed, and there are very few cars on the road.

Only since I finished my cancer treatment have I come to appreciate how important a day of rest is. I no longer work seven days a week, and even today, I caught myself picking up sticks in the yard and moving a few rocks. God calls that work—and in the Old Testament, God struck down a man for gathering sticks on the Shabbat (Numbers 15:32-36). I stopped when God brought to mind I wasn’t resting from labor like He wanted me to.

We all struggle with different things, and for me, I tend not to know when to relax. So I appreciated this special Easter when I didn’t hear cars zooming by, lawn mowers blaring, or sirens screaming. The neighborhood was quiet, and there were cars in driveways because people were home. Some walked their dogs, and I’m sure many, as I did, spent quality time with their family instead of the frenzied pace that marks the way of life for most Americans.

I put on my favorite Christian movie, The Gospel of John, from 2003, which is a word-for-word rendition of the fourth Gospel in the New Testament. Every time I watch the reenactment, I come away with a new insight or something God shows me that I hadn’t seen before. This time it was from John 9:4 (KJV): Jesus said, “I must do the works of him that sent me while it is day; the night cometh, when no man can work.”

Disney World Parade

That verse struck me because so many people can’t work during the coronavirus pandemic. Schools are closed. Restaurants are shut. All nonessential services are under lock and key, like dry cleaners, barbers, and clothing shops. Sports and entertainment have ceased. National parks and beaches are deserted, and theme parks, like DisneyWorld, are closed. Even places of worship are not allowed to meet in many cities, including my own.

To make a point, although it’s not my main point, but it is worth mentioning because it has never happened in our democracy, it’s like we are living in a socialist country. Our government, at the national, state, and municipal level, are determining what is essential and what isn’t. If you disobey the local authorities, you risk huge fines or worse.

And dare I even mention the shortages of certain items, like paper towels, toilet paper, and hand disinfectant. Could we have imagined anything like that happening in America? How many times have scoffers laughed at the preppers? But here we are, with millions of people unemployed, airports shut down, and our capitalist system in peril—all because of an invisible enemy we can’t see.

I’ve captioned this last month dozens of breaking news reports and updates at all levels of government, including Trump’s first major announcement concerning the coronavirus on Fox News. This is the world we live in right now, but it hits closer to home when your loved one or a dear friend is affected.

One of my friends has metastatic lung cancer. Her condition has deteriorated during the CV pandemic, and strict rules are in effect in Gainesville, Florida, regarding healthcare.

My good friend had a brain MRI set up to diagnose the progressing paralysis on her left side. She went for her appointment on a hot day in a hot car. When they took her temperature, it was 1/10 of a degree higher than the acceptable range for incoming patients. They sent her home under the pretense she might have coronavirus.

When she told me this, sorrow filled my heart. Our healthcare has been triaged so that those who are most in need of care might get passed over. With only a hundred cases of coronavirus in Alachua County and a vast medical complex that services the entire Southeast, my friend was sent home for fear of a virus that’s barely touched Alachua County. The authorities deemed the threat of coronavirus more concerning to the public than her precarious health condition requiring immediate care.

I asked her, “Do those people have a brain?” Of course, they have a brain, but her desperate situation was not considered urgent. That’s socialized medicine.

But really, that’s not the point of why I’m writing this piece. The coronavirus has brought darkness over our country. People are afraid. Doctors and nurses must abide by a set of rules put in place by the government. The government is telling healthcare workers to triage patients and sending some home. Whoever could have imagined that a patient would be sent home because of a mild fever when she came in for an MRI appointment related to battling stage IV lung cancer? And I don’t need to ask, whoever thought a day would come when people wouldn’t be allowed to work?

As Jesus said over two thousand years ago, “…the night cometh, when no man can work.”

Often prophecies are cyclical. The stage has been set for additional fulfillment of this prophecy.  We are seeing the “birth pangs” that Jesus spoke of in the Olivet Discourse of Matthew 24-25. Jesus also specifically referred to pestilences in Luke 21:10-11 (American KJV): ”Nation shall rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom: And great earthquakes shall be in divers’ places, and famines, and pestilences; and fearful sights and great signs shall there be from heaven.”

Notice what Jesus said, following pestilences are “fearful sights and great signs…from heaven.” Nobody that I’ve heard has suggested this might be referring to the rapture. When Jesus was taken into heaven, his disciples stood by and watched him disappear into the clouds. Imagine what a fearful sight that would be and a great sign from heaven. The fact that it directly follows “pestilences” in Jesus’ chronicle of events is worth noting. Could the rapture be sooner than any of us have anticipated?

The coronavirus has been a pestilence and fearful sight.  One only has to look at news from around the world to see how much fear it has evoked. One only needs to go on YouTube to see mass graves dug in other parts of the world, even in New York City. The lack of ventilators has created widespread fear. Seeing people wearing face masks has been shocking, while thousands are huddled in their homes to escape an invisible enemy for which there is no vaccine or cure. What could be more frightening? 

As I focused on Jesus’ words, “I must do the works of him that sent me while it is day; the night cometh, when no man can work,” the Holy Spirit spoke to me about darkness. 

Last summer, My daughters and I went on a week-long cruise in the Western Caribbean. One of the places we took a shore excursion to was the Rio Secreto in Playa del Carmen, Mexico. At sixty-three years of age, I have to admit, the trek through the caverns of the underground river was challenging. My daughters handled it with ease, but I had to watch my steps using the makeshift cane they gave us. I was glad I wore a helmet in case I fell.

I thought it would be like a stroll in the park. It wasn’t. However, I’m glad I went. After a brief walk through a spectacular rain forest, we came to the entrance of the underground river. We entered the cold water with great caution. 

After about forty-minutes of climbing over rocks and through fissures in the cave system, we came to a beautiful underground lake. The only light was from our helmet lights and flashlights. I still find it hard to believe that the Rio Secreto existed in total darkness for thousands of years before it was discovered in the early 2000s by cave explorers.

Then the guide told us to do something unusual. He asked us to turn off the headlamps and flashlights and to lie down in the water on our backs. When everyone had complied, we created a circular formation joining hands with the person next to us on both sides. The idea was for us to be at one with nature. The guide took a photo of us in the dark with only his flashlight on for dramatic effect.

Being one with nature was not what I experienced. I had left my glasses behind in a locker in case I fell. I didn’t want to lose the only ones I brought on the cruise. That was probably a mistake as I could have seen better with my glasses. 

As I lay on my back with the water lapping gently underneath me, staring up at the darkness, I grew nauseated. I tried closing my eyes, but that didn’t help.

After what seemed like an eon of time, unbeknownst to me, the lights came back on. I had shut my eyes to shut out the darkness, and when I opened them, I saw several hikers were already standing, and the cave was more lit than dark. I thought my nausea would quickly dissipate when I had light again, but it didn’t. 

Even when we exited the cave, in natural sunlight, my nausea continued. It lasted for an hour or more before finally going away.

I wondered for months why I got so dizzy and nauseous. Then someone pointed out to me, “It was because you had no sense of spatial awareness.” In everyday language, I didn't have a plumb line. In complete darkness, I had no frame of reference, and it made me disoriented and nauseous.

When I think about that experience, more than just the darkness bothered me. I had no sense of anything—up, down, left, right, what was near me, what was far away. Nothing. God did not create us to live in darkness. He is a God of light. Indeed, He is the light. He is our plumb line. When we are in darkness, we are blinded by darkness because we can’t see anything, and that makes us sick.

Matthew 24:22 (NIV) states: “If those days had not been cut short, no one would survive, but for the sake of the elect, those days will be shortened.” Could Jesus be referring here to another darkness that is coming, once again when people won’t be able to work? Or could He be referring to the darkness we are experiencing now? Certainly, the CV pandemic has put us in darkness, darkness about the future and darkness sharing the Gospel.

This may be prescient of a future longer-lasting darkness where no one will be able to share the Good News of salvation or be about the Lord’s business. It’s easy to miss the flip side of Jesus’ words. If the days are shortened, that means the nights are longer—more darkness.

To quote John 9:4 again, Jesus said, “I must do the works of him that sent me, while it is day; the night cometh, when no man can work.”

I have no doubt the day is coming when we won't be able to witness, when we aren't able to share our faith or do the works of the Lord. The world will be in darkness, without God's light, because people will be blind, enveloped in the darkness of the prince of darkness that is soon coming.

God keeps bringing to my mind the word “occupy.” We don’t know how much time we have before the Lord’s return, but we are to occupy and be busy doing the Lord’s work until we aren’t able, just as Jesus said.

As an aside, and this is just a personal observation, the rapture could occur several years before the seven-year tribulation starts. As the Bible states, it will come at a time when it is not expected. Matthew 24:44 (NIV) says, “So you also must be ready because the Son of Man will come at an hour when you do not expect him.”

In the meantime, Christian writers need to be proclaiming salvation in their books. Speakers need to be sharing the Gospel from their platforms. Bloggers need to be writing blog posts about the Lord’s return, and Christian media producers need to be uploading Christian videos to YouTube while they still can. 

Censoring is happening even as I write this post. Christian materials are being removed from social platforms at an alarming rate. Even on Facebook and Twitter, Christians are being silenced.

Strangely, we can’t share the Gospel with our neighbors right now. We aren’t even supposed to enter their houses. It’s not just in America. Half of the world has been enveloped in this pandemic, and millions are holed up in their homes.

If you have not accepted Yeshua (Jesus Christ) as your Savior, today is the day of salvation. When night comes, it may be too late. You may not be able to get on the Internet. You may not be able to work. You might not even have food to eat. John 3:16 states (KJV): “For God so loved the world that He gave His only Begotten Son so that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.”

At Christmas, just four months ago, no one could have imagined we would be engulfed in a global pandemic. I knew about the coronavirus in Wuhan from captioning RT News (American media did a poor job of covering it), but I never in my wildest dreams imagined that it would grip the whole world as it has.

Most of my broadcast captioning is sports-related, so my income has been affected. I wait for the pandemic to end, but I don't wait in vain. I expectantly wait for God to bring good out of all of this, and I pray that God will heal our nation, bring revival, and turn many to the Lord.

Please join me in praying for those in authority over us, for those healthcare workers on the frontline battling this pandemic, and for wisdom for our leaders—not a socialist one-shoe-fits-all kind of wisdom, but the wisdom that comes from God.

Out of the darkness, God shines His light, giving us hope and guidance. We can become, once again, one nation under God. May God be glorified as we seek to be His servants in these last days until He calls us home. Let us work while we can before total darkness comes and the light of Jesus is extinguished. As long as God keeps us here, we are that light unto salvation. 

PRESIDENT TRUMP'S FULL PRAYER FOR OUR COUNTRY THIS EASTER SUNDAY: Christian Blogger Lorilyn Roberts

The major networks omitted the beginning of President Trump's prayer, which is really the most important point. We need to remember the devil is suppressing the truth (God's Truth) at all levels. When Daniel says "knowledge shall increase and then the end," Daniel is specifically referring to the knowledge of God. That implies that the knowledge of God has been suppressed.

I am looking for a revival to explode when this coronavirus passes. People will be hungry for a short time. So we need to occupy, taking advantage of this opportunity to be bold in our witness and faithful in good works. God is busy redeeming souls, and He wants us to do His bidding before it's too late.

Remember, there is nothing, absolutely nothing, that has to happen before the rapture. And God makes no promises about how long He gives each of us life if the rapture occurs after our natural death.

Be sober, be diligent, and pray unceasingly. And let's celebrate in our homes on Sunday the resurrection of our Lord and Precious Savior, Yeshua Mashiach.

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ARE YOU STAYING HOME DURING THE CORONAVIRUS CRISIS: Christian Blogger Lorilyn Roberts

Luke 21:11 (KJV):  And great earthquakes shall be in divers places, and famines, and pestilences; and fearful sights and great signs shall there be from heaven.

I provide broadcast captioning for television. On any given day, especially on the weekends, I might caption five or more hours of sports. Baseball, basketball, and hockey are the three main ones, but I also caption football, all kinds—American, Australian, and real football—the kind that consumes the hearts of sports fanatics in Europe.

All of that ended with the shutdown of sports. I used to wonder what would happen if people didn’t have sports to watch. For many, it’s an addiction—to escape from problems, to enjoy a pastime, to be entertained, and on and on. I waited a long time to caption sports until my children were much older. I could never see myself captioning a baseball game into the thirteenth inning and serving dinner two hours late with a two-year-old and nine-year-old waiting to be fed.

But eventually, I did caption sports; first baseball, then basketball, and then all the rest. Last week on ESPN, I captioned a fiery knife thrower, bare-hand fish hunters, and hill rollers—or something like that. 

I never quite got the gist of that last sport that took place in the U.K., but it was obvious the sports producer was digging into the very bottom of the sports barrel hoping live sports would be resurrected soon.

So now, instead of captioning baseball—my favorite sport to caption—I’m captioning Coronavirus press conferences of President Trump, governors around the country, city mayors, local doctors, nurses, and even recovering Coronavirus patients. I had to come up with a good brief for hydroxychloroquine. Who would have thought I would ever need to know what that word meant?

It’s only been three months since Christmas and the entire world is affected. Because I’m such a conspiracy nut, I knew about the virus in Wuhan probably before most people did. It was barely mentioned in the news, and I have to admit, I never expected it to become what it is now.

Even with all the books, I’ve read and YouTube videos I’ve watched dealing with apocalyptic scenarios, partly out of my own interest but also as research for my Seventh Dimension Series, I can’t remember seeing anything that took on the scope of this pandemic, although I have heard scientists predict that we were past due for flu similar to the Spanish flu of 1918.

I also can’t remember anything on a global scale that has affected me personally to this degree since the Cuban Missile Crisis. I was living in Atlanta at the time, and my mother had just remarried. I remember the drills the elementary school conducted, that if something were to happen, to run into the hallway and cover our heads. I remember my mother and new father showing me how to walk home from school if the worst happened. 

We had just moved with their marriage the previous week, and I was living in an unfamiliar part of town. I remember them telling me what would be safe to eat, that anything in a can would be okay, but practically nothing else. And I was acutely aware of death—of my own, theirs, or classmates. I had a scary feeling that my world, as tenuous as it was, might soon come to an end.

That was fifty-seven years ago. I was in first grade. I hardly knew anyone because I had just enrolled in that school, and because we were living in a different apartment, I didn’t know a soul. While John F. Kennedy wasn’t a perfect president, he was certainly the man for the hour. He stood up to Cuba, and a nuclear war was averted.

Whether you love Trump or hate him, I would encourage you as an American to support him. We need everyone to come together and to do their part to help us get through this. The one thing I keep hearing over and over is that people need to stay home. By staying home, we can slow down the exponential increase in cases, hopefully long enough to spread out the need for ventilators over a longer period to save lives.

Many years ago, when my daughter, Joy, was in third grade, I got the shingles. I’d never had shingles and didn’t know what it was, but my eye was a mess and it hurt. I finally made an appointment with an ophthalmologist, in between a hectic captioning schedule to see what was going on. The doctor examined me and said I had an eye infection. As an afterthought, I said, “You know, I also have this rash on my forehead.”

The doctor stopped what he was doing and examined my forehead. Immediately he exclaimed, “You’ve got shingles.”

My mother had had shingles, and she had told me more than once how painful it was. No wonder I was in so much pain. The doctor looked at my eye again and shook his head. “It’s a wonder you didn’t lose your eyesight. If the spread had gone down instead of up, you would have.”

I went home that night thankful that somebody discovered a cure for shingles and that in a few days I’d feel much better. I don’t remember many shows I’ve captioned over ten years ago, but I remember the show I did that night. It was on QVC, and the woman was from Asia and spoke with the heaviest accent you could have and still call it English. I couldn’t open that eye, and so I captioned that hour-long show squinting in pain in a language that sounded nothing like English. I hope they sold some jewelry that night. If they did, I’m sure it wasn’t because of my perfect captions. Lord only knows what I wrote!

But that isn’t the end of the story. I got better within a few days. Life seemed to return to normal, and I went out of town on a trip, only to get a phone call from my dear friend who was taking care of my daughters.

“I think Joy has chickenpox,” Sylvia said.

“What? No, she can’t have chickenpox. She had chickenpox when she was a baby.” Or did she?

Joy had broken out in a rash while on vacation in Destin, Florida, and I had taken her to the emergency clinic. The doctor said he was ninety percent sure it was chickenpox. So I took his word for it and never got her the vaccine. Well, I guess she didn’t have chickenpox after all. I returned home from my out-of-town trip early, took her to the pediatrician, and received the diagnosis: chickenpox.

So Joy stayed home from school and gymnastics practice for the next seven to ten days. Unexpectedly, after she returned to school, she came home with a letter from the school principal that went something like this: It has come to our attention that we have had an outbreak of chickenpox in our school. Several cases have been reported, and if your child breaks out with a rash, has a fever…”

When Joy returned to her gymnastic class, I heard through the gossip mill of mothers that several gymnasts had recently come down with chickenpox.

I didn’t have the guts or heart to tell those parents it was because of me. I got the shingles, Joy caught the chickenpox from me, and then she passed it on to several students and gymnasts, and those kids probably shared it with others I never knew about.

Fortunately, enough kids had been immunized and enough adults had had the chickenpox as children that it didn’t turn into an epidemic. 

I bring that story up here to stress how important it is that we take measures to avoid contact with others during this Coronavirus Crisis. There is no treatment and there is no vaccine. Therefore, some people who get it will not have the resources to fight it and will die. There aren’t enough ventilators for those who might have trouble breathing. For the first time in U.S. history, we may have to triage patient care. That means somebody will have to choose who will live and who will die.

Coronavirus is spreading at an unprecedented rate. To have something this deadly overtake so many countries around the world at once is unimaginable. If someone had predicted this beforehand, they would have been written off as a conspiracy nut. I know. I’ve been called that by one of my kids.

CLICK TO TWEET:  The truth is I believe we are heading into a time period that was predicted in the Bible over two thousand years ago. The word “pestilence” in Luke 20 is associated with a specific period of calamity. 

We’ve seen a dramatic rise in earthquakes over the last few years. Famines around the world have increased, and I would not be surprised to see “wonders” in the sky in the not-too-distant future. Steve Cioccolanti, a pastor in Australia with Discover Ministries, who also teaches Biblical prophecy and its intersection with current events, believes we are at the opening of the third seal, the third horse of the apocalypse.

Revelation 6:5-6 (KJV): And when he had opened the third seal, I heard the third beast say, “Come and see.” And I beheld, and lo, a black horse, and he that sat on him had a pair of balances in his hand. And I heard a voice in the midst of the four beasts say, “A measure of wheat for a penny, and three measures of barley for a penny; and see thou hurt not the oil and the wine.”

Pastor Cioccolanti believes the opening of the seals happens before the seven-year tribulation. If that is true, we may be closer to the return of Christ than many of us have imagined.

I encourage everyone to stay at home, read books, spend quality time with family, and pray. Pray that God will use the Coronavirus to show people that even though our lives can quickly change, God is unchanging. Jesus Christ is our rock, our hope, and our salvation.

Take time to read the Book of Daniel and the Book of Revelation. Ask God to help you reprioritize what’s most important. Eat well to build up your immune system. Take vitamin C and vitamin D. Pray for President Trump and all of our leaders, our doctors and nurses, and our pastors. The emotional impact may be exhausting. Pray for one other, that God will meet our needs—financial, spiritual, and physical—to help us through this difficult time.

“AND I WILL RESTORE TO YOU THE YEARS THE LOCUSTS HATH EATEN…” JOEL 2:25 (KJV): Devotional by Lorilyn Roberts

“I took away her dreams,” my husband told the judge. His words stung. My dreams of bearing children, finishing my college degree, and pursuing my goal of becoming a writer seemed impossible. At thirty, I had hit rock bottom and had to start over in a dead-end job I hated. Tears welled up as I wept bitterly.

Thirty-three years later, I thank God he did not save my marriage. As an abuse survivor, I learned to be kind to myself. Prayer and reading God’s Word helped me to heal. I discovered freedom through travel. I found new ways to earn my college degree and studied internationally. I eventually earned my Master of Arts in Creative Writing. 

I learned to keep a short memory. I overcame bitterness by developing a positive attitude. I discovered beauty because I chose to look for it. I learned to love better and adopted two beautiful little girls from Nepal and Vietnam. I homeschooled them and learned patience. I chose to forgive. I was most surprised to learn that locusts can only eat so much. Then they die.

With the wind at my back and the sand underneath my feet, I no longer lament the years the locusts stole from me. They aren’t worth remembering. Only my footprints remain for others to follow. 

Instead, I’m thankful. Nothing is ever wasted, especially suffering. By taking that first step towards renewal, we can share our victories despite our pain. Others will be encouraged when they see our footprints and know they aren’t alone.

Tweet Prayer:  Loving Father, help us to follow your footprints in the sand as we leave our own, forgetting the past and looking forward to the future.