Day Eight Hundred Twenty Eight #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Already we have seen the harvest of much fruit in the tribal encampment – both in the numbers of people and in the maturity so evident in the life of Quasimo.

Elijah marvels at the advances he is making in grasping the gist of all he is teaching. And he is cheered by the fact that he puts it immediately into practice.

There is no doubt in our minds that we can safely leave him to his task tomorrow, and set off to our calling.

We shall assemble with him and his fledglings later this evening for last minute essential instructions, and for a time of corporate prayer. And for a time of leave taking. A prospect both glad and sad.

Day Four Hundred Eighty Four #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

We were lifted on the wings of the Spirit and borne over water and the city itself. And deposited gently in a field beside a road running from the city.

Elijah wasted no time in taking up the advance down the road. I asked why we were bypassing the port city. He explained that he already knew that any followers of Hamashiach had left long ago. And that we no doubt had a long way to go before encountering any, if at all.

Miles and miles of dusty road, and not a village, nor even a house did we pass by. It was like the city behind us had sucked its surroundings into its sprawl, leaving the vast countryside empty.