As Zerah contemplates this, he raises his arms and drops to his knees.
Queens, NY
When Kennisha opens the door, she gasps at the sight of Brandon’s face, reaching for him before she notices the two young girls. She spots them and glances at Elliott before ushering the girls inside. “What are your names?” she asks, leading them into the apartment.
“Signe,” one of them says with a soft accent. She has fair skin, small features, and blondish-brown hair. Emma is in the living room with Micah and Lia and she jumps up at hearing their voices.
“Are your parents here, Signe?” Kennisha asks.
She shakes her head. “I came here with my uncle after my mom died, and he…”
Emma kneels down in front of Signe as Micah and Lia stand behind Emma, looking at Signe. With so many eyes on her, Signe’s lips begin to tremble. Lia steps from behind Emma and puts her arm around Signe’s small shoulders. Emma and Kennisha don’t need Signe to say that her uncle sold her to make money. The pain is fixed on her face. “What’s your name?” Emma asks, looking at the other girl, who has charcoal-black skin and long, plated braids.
“Ines,” she says with a Haitian tone.
“This is Micah,” Kennisha says. “And this is our new friend, Lia. We were just going to make something to eat.”
“Are you hungry?” Micah asks. He leads all the girls into the kitchen.
Emma directs Brandon and Elliott into the bathroom, signaling for Kennisha to join them once the children are settled. She hands a flashlight to Elliott so he can help her see better in the mostly dark bathroom and instructs Brandon to sit down on the toilet lid, then reaches for a washcloth to begin cleaning his face. “What happened?”
“I saw a girl get sold on the street.” He winces when Emma touches his face.
“She would’ve been gone…They all would have been gone if not for Brandon,” Elliott says, moving the flashlight around as he talks with his hands.
Emma lifts a bottle of alcohol, the only disinfectant she can find, out of the cabinet and looks for cotton balls. “All of them? How many were there?”
“Three,” Brandon says. “We were able to take the first girl home.”
“How did you get them?” Emma dabs at Brandon’s swollen left eye and each time she does, he flinches.
“The first girl was about to be shoved into a van when Brandon, like Superman, jumped on the guy,” Elliott says, fist-bumping Brandon and making the flashlight shine onto the ceiling.
“He must have been a pretty big guy to do this to you,” Emma says, patting the bloody cheek, lips, and eye with a cotton ball.
“You should have seen what I did to him,” Brandon says, smiling.
“Really?!”
Brandon shakes his head. “No. He would have killed me if not for Elliott and Simon and two guys from the street. But he didn’t get the girls!”
“Simon?” Emma asks.
“A friend,” Elliott says.
“He saw the crowd on the street in his neighborhood,” Brandon says. “One guy was taking a video—obviously, the only one who had an extra cell battery or solar charger. Hopefully he’ll upload it when we have Internet again and you can see what happened.”
“Why did he video it? What happened?” Emma asks, looking at Elliott.
Before Elliott has a chance to answer, Kennisha peers into the doorway, trying to see Brandon’s face. “Brandon and Elliott saved the girls’ lives,” Emma says. She reaches for the flashlight and Elliott hands it to her; she finds an antibiotic ointment in the cabinet and dabs it around Brandon’s wounds.
Kennisha leans against the door, shaking her head. “How many more kids are out there like that? There are probably rings all over the city that have been operating for years. They’ll only get bigger now with so many people and police officers gone. And we can’t save them all.”
“But we can save a lot,” Emma says. The weight of what she has said invades the small space between them with a combination of fear and hope, and they can hear each other breathe. “I can’t leave any child out on the streets.”
“We can’t take in all of them,” Kennisha says.
“I’ve been thinking,” Emma says, then pauses, gathering her thoughts. “I took money and a car from Mrs. Ramos’s house,” she says, almost as a confession, looking at Elliott.
He nods as a look of shame crosses Emma’s face. “It’s all right, Emma.”
“I’m no better than thugs on the street.”
“Everything you’ve said about Mrs. Ramos tells me that she would want you to have the money and the car to help you and all those children.”
She nods. “I know. I just feel so bad for what I’ve been thinking.” They all look at her, wondering what she means. “We have to get out of the city, but right now it would take days to get through the traffic, and besides, where would we go? We don’t have anything to help us get started somewhere else.” All eyes are on her, waiting. “This apartment is too small for all of us. What if we move into the Ramos’s house?” Kennisha opens her mouth, but Emma cuts her off before she has a chance to say anything. “The house has three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a basement, and running water. We could find more mattresses and bring them in.”
“But they probably have a mortgage,” Kennisha says.
Emma’s already thought about this. “What if the mortgage company no longer exists?”
“Even if it does exist,” Brandon says, his eyes widening, “it would take them months to sort through all their files. They would have to figure out who’s gone and who’s left here with a mortgage to pay.”
Emma is talking faster now. “Before everything’s stolen, what if we found the homes or apartments of those who disappeared and…” She can’t bring herself to say it.
“And take what we could find and move it to the Ramos’s house?” Brandon asks.
She shakes her head. “Hearing you say it makes it sound worse than I thought.”
“No it doesn’t,” Kennisha says. “She was your friend.”
“You’re going to need medicine too,” Elliott says. Emma looks at him as he finishes his thought. “How easy will it be to see a doctor now and how much will they charge? How much will medicine cost?”
Emma leans against the door. “I’m sure Mrs. Ramos has her kid’s addresses in her phone,” she says to Brandon. “If we can get hold of a solar charger, I could charge her phone enough to get their addresses. We can go to their homes.”
Brandon nods. “Maybe there are other people listed in her phone that she went to church with.”
Emma’s eyes light up. “Maybe even a doctor or two. We need to go before it gets dark. Can we all pack what we need?”
Elliott raises his hand. “What you can’t pack you can store in my apartment.”
Emma looks stricken. “You’re not coming with us?”
“I won’t be in New York forever.”
Emma is saddened by the thought, but nods at Elliott’s decision. “We need to get back to Brooklyn right away, before somebody else breaks into the house.”
CHAPTER 40
Brooklyn, NY
As suspected, Lia’s mom is nowhere to be found in the area where she had left Lia. Emma drops her, Kennisha, and the other children off at Mrs. Ramos’s house, and they all unload the car together. Emma and Brandon waste no time in hunting down addresses inside Mrs. Ramos’s home and are soon on their way to her son Carlos’s apartment; they gasp when a key on her keychain fits the door.
As their “family” is expanding, Emma knows they don’t have enough of the most basic items, and she and Brandon fan out, collecting medicines, food, towels, sheets, blankets, kids’ clothes, money, soap, toothpaste, shampoo, plates, cups, and more silverware, putting it all in garbage bags, boxes, pillowcases, or whatever they can find. Again, they take the time to find other family members’ and friends’ addresses and are thrilled during their search to find a cell phone solar charger. Thankfully, others in the same apartmen
t building are moving out, so they blend in among the movement. There’s a sense of urgency in the air and people are running up and down the stairs and through the hallways, rushing their things into waiting vehicles on the street.
Emma wants to get back to Mrs. Ramos’s house to unload before finding where Viviana, Angel, or Luis lived. She and Brandon are cramming the last few items into the trunk when a voice from behind curses at them. “Give me the keys!”
Emma turns to see a man around nineteen or twenty pointing a gun at them. People on the street scramble away, but Emma feels fury raging in her gut. He is not going to take these things. “The keys are in my purse in the apartment. If you want the car, go get them yourself!” He steps toward them, heading for the car to look inside when Emma grabs his arm. “Go get the keys if you want them!” He shouts curses, hovering over her and pointing the gun in her face, screaming. He doesn’t like being told what to do. “God help us!” Emma yells, slamming the base of her hand up into his nose, drawing blood.
The man stumbles backward, blood squirting out his nose and over his hand. Brandon rushes behind him, locking his arm around the man’s neck. Emma rushes forward, kicking the man hard in the groin. She moves for the gun when he drops it, using it to smash the man in his face. In pain and desperate for air, he falls to the street, and Emma and Brandon race to the car, jumping inside. Emma is still shaking as she hands the gun to Brandon. They are too frightened to speak, but know they will do this again and again in search of what they need to survive.
They unload the car at Mrs. Ramos’s house, then Emma sinks into the sofa. She is shaking, hungry, and exhausted. There has been no time to grieve so much loss in her life, and she feels tears begin to well up. Brandon drops next to her, his face swollen and red. “Maybe we can eat something, then see if that solar charger will charge Mrs. Ramos’s phone,” he says, looking at her. “In the meantime, we can look in the desk and files we saw upstairs and check for more addresses for one of her kids or a friend who might have lived near here. I don’t want to be on the streets when it gets dark. It’s getting too…” He looks at her face, then stops. Brandon doesn’t need to tell Emma it’s getting too dangerous. He doesn’t need to explain to her the risk of being out on the street. He simply holds out his hand, and she clasps it.
Kennisha and the children enter the living room, and Kennisha holds out her hands to Lia and Signe. They each grab hold and extend their hands to Micah and Ines. Together they form a small circle, each holding on to the others’ hands. It is so quiet they can hear each other breathe.
Elliott arrives the next morning as Emma and the others are sharing a makeshift breakfast of stale sweet rolls found in Mrs. Ramos’s pantry, along with a few apples. “Mr. and Mrs. Ramos would be blessed to see all of you safe inside these walls,” he says, watching them eat. Emma hands him a sweet roll. “I’ve eaten,” he says. Her face indicates that she doesn’t believe him. “Keep it for the kids.”
Elliott doesn’t stay long, and Emma wonders if she’ll ever see him again. Has it only been since Sunday that they met? Their bond makes it seem it’s been much longer. He says good-bye, first to the children, then to Brandon and Kennisha, but Brandon won’t let him leave until they pray for him. Praying is still so strange to them, but Brandon talks with God as if he’s standing right here next to them as he prays for Elliott and the people of New York City. “Come, Lord Jesus,” he says, finishing, and hugs Elliott good-bye.
Elliott steps outside with Emma, and she closes the door so no one can hear. “Last night I was reading, Elliott. Reading the Bible again and…” She looks in his eyes and realizes that he already knows what she’s thinking. “The years ahead…many of us will be killed.”
“And will be instantly before the throne.”
Her voice catches. “All these kids.”
Elliott puts his hands on her shoulders. “They will be loved and cared for, some of them for the first time in their lives.”
She realizes how tired she is and a tear streams from her eye; she shakes her head as he takes his hands off her shoulders. “But how can they…?” She fumbles for the words. “How can we…?” She looks over her shoulder into the living room. “Where will we house them all? This place will get crowded and we need to get out of the city, but I don’t know how we could… How will we feed and clothe them? How many more will we find? I can’t do it, Elliott.”
“Yes, you can. God said I will pour out my Spirit in those days. The very Spirit of God is on you, Emma. He’s inside of you and Kennisha and Brandon. Do you think he wants those kids on the street? He needs people to go out and bring them in and take care of them.” He smiles. “You and Kennisha and Brandon are just the founding members of this great organization.”
She tries to smile. “One of our founders looks like he got the stuffing beat out of him.”
They laugh together for the first time in days, and Emma cries again, looking at him. “I sure could talk to my mom right now.”
“All of her prayers for you throughout your life are still alive,” Elliott says. “They didn’t disappear just because she’s in heaven. They’re perpetual. They’ll go on and on. And I have a feeling that your mom prayed some powerful prayers for you. Prayers for belief and strength and great courage. The same kind of prayers that you’ll be praying over these kids now.”
Emma hugs him good-bye and watches as he gets on his bike and rides away. Knowing that he’ll be out on the streets of Brooklyn today gives her a sense of peace. As long as Elliott is on the streets, the truth is being shared, and others like her and Brandon and Kennisha are being saved. She thinks of the children just inside this front door, her kids, and wonders how many more there will be.
To discover more about the biblical facts behind the story, read Where in the Word? on page 283, or continue reading the novel.
CHAPTER 41
Ashdod, Israel
The noise from a squadron of jets rattles the windows at Dr. Haas’s house, and Zerah jumps up, peering into the sky. He walks to the door and opens it, straining to see the aircraft overhead. He can’t see them yet, but the noise is deafening as they draw near.
When he does finally see them come into view, he is taken aback. The Mediterranean Sea darkens as the great swarm of aircraft from Russia, Turkey, Iran, Libya, Sudan, and other nations cluster together like a sinister cloud over the sea. On the northern end of Israel, fighter planes, helicopters, and a great horde of armored vehicles, all too numerous to count, advance from the border of Syria. This invasion of armies is unprecedented in history, and Zerah cranes his neck upward for a better look.
“It’s happening,” he whispers.
To discover more about the biblical facts behind the story, read Where in the Word? on page 287.
WHERE IN THE WORD?
INTRODUCTION
WHERE IN THE WORD?
I love stories; I always have. I love to hear them, read, and write them. My list of favorite books is long, but at the top is the greatest story given to man, the truest story that has ever been written, of how an awesome God pursues, loves, forgives, disciplines, redeems, renews, and cares for humanity all the way from Genesis through Revelation.
When I was a little girl growing up in Ohio, our pastor and visiting pastors spoke often about the return of Christ. I knew what the “catching up” of believers in Christ and the second coming was as early as when I was five or six years old, but somewhere along the way, those kinds of messages have largely disappeared from the Western church. It has been decades since I’ve heard anyone in a pulpit say something like, “Jesus is returning!” or “Jesus is coming soon!” If it’s been decades, that means there is an entire generation that has heard little or nothing about Christ’s return in their church, Christian high school or university, or even in their seminary. For the most part, this message and that of Bible prophecy have not been proclaimed as they should be.
SOMETHING IS MISSING
About twenty-seven percent of the Bible is
prophecy. Why are these Scripture passages rarely taught anymore? For some, perhaps it’s because there was a string of bestsellers that some people used to make Bible prophecy into a part of pop culture, and when Jesus didn’t return immediately, others scoffed at and derided the whole idea of Jesus snatching away those who are in Christ, thinking it too campy to be taken seriously.
And there have always been pastors who have backed away from teaching Bible prophecy and the return of Jesus for a variety of reasons (pastor Tom Hughes has addressed five of those reasons in an informative article).1 Perhaps they believe it is perceived as cheesy or farce-like, maybe they see Bible prophecy as something to be interpreted symbolically and not literally, or they feel it is too scary for many in their congregation to hear, too complicated to understand, or too judgmental to proclaim.
Whatever the reason, that means more than one-fourth of the Bible is being overlooked. Who would pick up the latest bestseller and not read twenty-seven percent of the book? If you were reading a book, would you read a few pages and then skip to somewhere in the middle, and then skip some more pages, not even bothering to read the end? I doubt you would, but that’s the way many people read Scripture. How can they tie all of God’s Word together without reading that twenty-seven percent?
In the Western church, we hear many wonderful sermons about love, forgiveness, unity, compassion, service, hope, mercy, and grace, but seldom hear messages from the neglected twenty-seven percent of the Bible.
This hasn’t gone unnoticed. It seems people know that something’s not quite right; something is missing. They know that there are vital plot points and important people left out of this great story of God, and they’re hungry to know more. There is an urgency in the air, and believers and unbelievers alike feel it. What is happening? Where are we headed? I’m writing this series for people like me, people who for many years have sat in church Sunday after Sunday and have heard the same topics or life lessons given by a variety of speakers, but we know there’s more. We want to read and hear and learn about the twenty-seven percent of the story that’s been absent in our midst for far too long.
The Time of Jacob's Trouble Page 17