Chapter 1
This is a short story about a young man named Steven
who was given dreams from God that reveal truth God has shown me (the writer)
that His Church needs to hear. Though this is written as fiction, the words
spoken by Jesus are actual words that God showed me. So, this is not just a
fictional work. It applies to our current world and to the Church. I encourage
you to seek God about this to find out what He would show you about this story.
Steve, a young man in his
early twenties, pulled his blankets over him as he lay in bed. The dim light
from a bare light bulb shot through a gap between his basement bedroom door and
the concrete floor. His breathing slowed to a restful state and a dream began
to form in his mind. An underground base with steel and concrete hallways
appeared.
Steve was standing in a steel
hallway lined with metal doors that resembled the bulkhead doors in a ship. A
lip was raised a couple inches from the floor of each door and all were closed
tight. Electric light bulbs, encased in metal cages, hummed and flickered along
the hallway. Footsteps were approaching from behind Steve. Turning quickly, he
saw a man approaching, carrying a briefcase in his left hand and a pen in the
other. The man wore dark sunglasses, a black trench coat, and a black suit.
“You want your God to love
you?” he asked Steve.
That was a strange question,
Steve thought. Who was this guy?
“I know you do. So, would you
like to find out how to get your God to love you more? Would you like Him to
satisfy your desires?”
Steve had felt somewhat empty
and somewhat distant from God, and he couldn’t tell exactly why he felt that
way, but he did. He had been raised as a Christian and had received Jesus as
his Savior and Lord when he was a boy. What this stranger was saying was
unusual, but the questions strangely drew him to want to know more.
“Yes,” Steve said. “How?”
“I will give you a booklet
which will help you to get God to satisfy your desires.”
The stranger pulled out of
his briefcase a booklet and handed it to Steve. Taking it in his hands, he felt
the pages and the laminated texture. It looked like a small manual. Opening it,
Steve perused through the pages.
“How can I trust you?” Steve
asked.
“I am a man of my word. I
have served your God for many years and He wants you to follow my, I mean, this
booklet.”
“But, this isn’t the Bible,”
Steve said. “Why should I follow it?”
“Just trust me. You will see
as you follow it.”
Steve began to flip through
the pages. He didn’t notice footsteps walking away until he heard the sound of
a metal door squeak shut.
The stranger had just opened
one of the bulkhead doors, and shut it softly behind him, but he had left it
cracked ajar as if to invite Steve to follow him. Steve glanced through the
booklet and noticed that it seemed very logical and rational. It made sense.
This booklet told him the way to have peace, and a sense of well-being, and
confidence by way of taking upon oneself to do tasks and assignments. One was
praying for everything he could think of, including praying for long periods of
time. It included repetitive prayers and praying for everything with meticulous
detail and precision.
Another point made by this
booklet was to read three chapters of the Bible quickly and with the goal of
getting the chapters done within a certain time frame. Also it spoke of
community service, such as raking leaves for widows and picking up trash. The
goal in mind for these works is to obtain favor and blessings from God and to
earn more of God’s love. This sounded good to Steve, but a still, small voice
whispered, “Trust Me and don’t trust these works.” But, Steve felt strongly in
his heart that he should do these good works to earn favor and blessing. “How
else could I feel God’s love?” Steve thought.
He was curious what lay
beyond the door. Stepping over to the door, he nudged it with his hand and it
felt very cold, but he pushed it open, and it squeaked loudly. Steve cringed at
the sound, but curiosity got the better of him, and he stepped through the
door, over the rim. Inside, he found himself in a long hallway with a warped
floor. Troughs, bumps, and craters distorted the metal surface underneath. As
Steve began walking forward, he noticed the hall widening and widening as if it
was from an optical illusion. Here and there were people who were staring at
hand mirrors and adjusting their hair. On their shirts hung medals and ribbons.
But, each ribbon or medal had a distinct quality about it that drew Steve’s
curiosity. The ribbons appeared to be made of paper, and the “medals” of shiny
plastic.
“Excuse me, young man,” a
gentleman with muttonchops and a red military uniform called out.
“Yes?” Steve said.
“Where do you come from?” The
gentlemen studied him with piercing eyes that hid under bushy eyebrows.
“I come from Everytown:
population thirty-five thousand.”
“I wondered if you had heard
of my name, from where you came?” the man asked.
“No, who are you?”
“I am Colonel Chesterton
Pride, and surely you must be aware of all the acts of service I did for your
community.”
Steve squinted, trying to
remember if he had met or heard of the colonel before.
Colonel Pride said with
gusto: “I built an orphanage, gave thousands of dollars to widows and the poor.
I regularly attended the First Church of Everytown until I moved to Anytown.
Not to be proud, but when I was asked to help the pastor fix the roof of the
church building, I ignored my back pain and put my skills to use. Some of the
other men had to leave early, but not me. I worked until the sun went down,
when my eyes couldn’t see the shingles before me. The next day, I gave a widow
the best of my wife’s old clothes and I repaired her kitchen sink. I could go
on and on about my accomplishments, but I don’t wish to bore you. So, what
brings you here?”
“Where are we?” Steve asked,
taking in what colonel had said.
