Day One Thousand Two Hundred Forty #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Mei writes:

I walked down to the square where the bodies of my friends lay open to the air. They were cordoned off. Their removal forbidden still.

Nor would the guards let me linger – but through repeated blows forced me away.

I found a quiet spot to write this, wondering when the promise would be fulfilled.

A commotion erupted among the guards and they scattered falling over one another as Elijah and Enoch stood to their feet and were drawn upward – alive.

There they joined those around my heart’s cherished longing, Yeshua. And I saw my name written on the palm of his uplifted hand.

I set aside my pen to reunite with my friends.

In the beginning of forever.

Day One Thousand Two Hundred Thirty Nine #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Mei writes:

Today was beyond dark. To me. The sunny blue skies open to everyone else were closed behind the shutters of my denial.

I can still hear the sounds of celebration around the city – voices raised in laughter and exultation. Happy throngs weaved about the streets calling to their fellows, congratulating one another for their triumph over their foes.

Then they began to lavish gifts on one another, declaring their independence from any and all restrictions.

I kept well away from them all.

I would almost despair if I did not have faith in the promises. There was a time before when these feelings would have crushed the very life from me.

I tell myself it will all be over soon.

Day One Thousand Two Hundred Thirty Eight #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Mei writes:

My tears flow so freely I can hardly see. But my memory is so seared that what I witnessed is all I can see or think about.

I was obedient and kept well back from the action. And I am sure no one was aware of who I am or what I was doing there.

The ferocity of the mob’s anger was so palpable that it blinded them to the presence of anyone else except the targets of their hate – Enoch and Elijah.

Dear Enoch and dear, dear Elijah. There you lie where you fell. And there you will remain by Stan’s fiat. For all to jeer and spit upon.

I long to see those human vultures scattered.