By Tim Cameron
Priscilla Wright from Possum Hollow stood by her stove stirring gravy for dinner, tears streaming down her face, “Lord, what more can I do? How many prayers must I pray?”
Just moments earlier she had made another desperate attempt to reach her husband.
“Dan, honey, you know we’re having revival services tonight, right?”
“Yeah, so?” he gruffly replied.
“Well honey, we have a great speaker who’s sharing on Israel and how that relates to Jesus’ soon return.”
“Ya don’t say? Why I haven’t heard that before. Say, Son, you want to go to church with ma?” (Dan mockingly asked their eighteen-year old son.)
“Whatever you decide Dad, I’m with you.”
Dan turned back to his wife, “Honey, why oh why, do you get so worked up every time a preacher comes to town talking about Jesus coming back? It’s the same message that preachers have preached for 2000 years and He hasn’t come back yet, and honey, I’ve got news for you, He’s not coming back in our lifetime, either.”
“Now Dan Wright you listen and listen good. Jesus is coming back soon; and you ask why I get so worked up!” She begins to sob.
“See Priscilla, there you go! I got better things to do than get caught up in stuff that makes you act like that!”
“But Dan the reason I am so worked up is because Jesus is coming back soon and only for those who have confessed Him as their Lord and Savior. Everyone else will be left to face seven years of the most horrific times this world has ever seen!”
“Oh, so this loving God…He is a loving God right?” Priscilla nods.
“This loving God is only going to take some, but leave others? Like your son? You mean to tell me you don’t think you have a good, son?”
“Dan none of us are good enough to stand up to God’s holy law, that is why Jesus died on the cross, and all those who call upon Him are saved from God’s coming wrath…can’t you see…can’t you understand that?”
“Honey, I understand all right…me and God are closer than you think. Besides, in my book, you have enough of Jesus for the whole family. Now you just go on and fix-up dinner and then you go right ahead and have yourself a grand ole time at your revival. Me and Daryl will stay home and let you pray for us.”
Priscilla rethinking all of what her husband had said continued to prepare dinner.
“Lord, whatever it takes. Please help them to see, hear and understand. Please save Dan and Daryl, no matter what it takes. I pray again in Jesus’ name. Amen.”
As soon as Priscilla served the tear stained meals to her two loved ones, she hurried off to church—despite the sarcastic remarks made by her jaded husband.
When Priscilla left that night for church, little did Dan know how relevant that conversation would be; it would be his last opportunity to escape. The Tribulation was about to start.
But as sad as Priscilla had been…all those tears, all those prayers—that heavy burden she had been carrying for her family…she was now deep in prayer on her knees at church, worshiping the Lord.
“Oh Lord, you’re beautiful…your face is all I seek…when your eyes are on this child…”
As suddenly as lightning flashes across the sky, the Son of God responding to His Father’s command stood up from His throne and shouted a shout for all the Ages…
“COME UP HERE!”
Priscilla Wright, born near a small little town near Possum Hollow had grown-up on the family farm…raised on a wooden pew at New Home Baptist Church attending Sunday School and Vacation Bible School. Now all her devotionals, her Bible (which she had scribbled in over the years), the aches and hurts, the lifelong scars—were now only memories—all bundled up into the life of this woman of God, the traces of the life she left behind.
Priscilla was traveling through time ascending through the most glorious night. She had been taken in the Rapture; tears running down her cheeks, bowing before the Alpha and Omega, the Lion of the Tribe of Judah, the One who was the fourth man in the fire, the Word Who become flesh.
The King of all kings and the Lord of all lords, called out her name, took her hands, pulled her to her feet and dried the tears from her eyes.
“Priscilla, my daughter, my faithful daughter. Well done and welcome home.”
Back at Possum Hollow Dan stood in shock as his son screamed in terror, “DAD, WHERE IS MOM? You said not to worry because she had enough faith for all of us.”
Daryl fell to the floor in desperation and began to pound out a cry, “Dear God PLEASE let mom come back!” His father stood trembling. He and Daryl had heard enough of the Bible to know what was to come next. Unless God shortened the days, no flesh would survive; seven years of tribulation now stared them in the face.
“OH GOD WHY DIDN’T I LISTEN?” Daryl cried out, “Oh why didn’t I listen?” Dad, why didn’t you listen?
This is the eleventh in my series of short stories, Preludes to the Rapture collection. Please feel free to download the stories as formatted and use them as witnessing material.