A new Writing 04/16/2011
 
Jocelyn had gone to Africa to do missionary work for her church, she had spend ten years there, and once the mission that she had placed upon her shoulders was over, she went back home to Florida. It was her intention to live out the rest of her days as a regular woman. She was a very rich woman, the inheritance that came after her father’s death ensured that she would live a very comfortable life. She was not like many who come into money, she was a very humble woman and enjoyed helping other who had less than her.

She was a very attractive woman, average height and build, long wavy, black hair, and angelic features that could warm anyone’s heart. She always dressed casually in jeans and t-shirts. She never cared for the expensive clothing that many of the others she knew in the same financial bracket would wear. She had money, but she still felt she was just a regular person, and she had more in common with those who were not rich.

She was never a very political woman, but as the world began to change, she became a very frequent voter. She would back any politician that was against the way the world governments were trying to convert to just one currency. She was a Christian and had studied the prophecies of the Bible, she knew what was beginning to come nearer. She poured money into the campaigns of those who were very vocally against the way that Russia had attacked Israel after the largest oil reserve on earth was discovered there.

The economy of the world was so battered as years went by that the people of the world were very quick to take the word of on international banker that was more than willing to tell anyone who would listen, how he could bring peace and prosperity to all people of the world. She knew in her heart that he was a fake, another man out to fill his pockets with profit, and coming at the expense of the entire world with his empty promises.

What worried her the most about what was happening was that the international banker that was rising so quickly, Damion Merryk, an American citizen that was born and raised in Western Europe. It is in that area of the world that the bible has said the Antichrist would be born. Very little information was available about this man, but she dug up enough to be concerned.

It was on hot and human summer afternoon that she went to the park near her house. It had become a regular practice for her to go there where many of the unfortunate people congregated. These where those the economy trampled the hardest as times spiraled downward.  She would stop by a sub shop at least once a week to pick up a sandwich for herself, and one for anyone that might come and sit with her for a few moments.

She would usually pick up a meatball sub, they were nice and filling and she had yet to worry about anyone turning down that one for a meal.  She was not one to turn down a repeat visitor either. There was one man that tended to come by at least once a month. She liked it when she would see someone more than once, she began to feel as if they were becoming her friends, not just someone she pitied. This one man who said his name was Joseph, he had terrible scars on both of his hands, but he seemed to have full use of them. He had only told her that he had acquired the scars will over seas a long time ago, “Long before you were born.”

On that hot and humid afternoon, he sat with her, he accepted her offer for food but sat it down on the bench between them. He politely waited for her to finish eating before the light chit-chat became something more serious. “Do you believe in Jesus Christ?”

She turned to look at him, but she was slightly blinded as the sun was setting and seemed to be just on the other side of him. All she could see was a shadowy figure sitting next to her. “Of course I do.”

“Do you accept Jesus is the only salvation we have?” His tone was desperate and serious, as if he was crying, and it worried her. “Please do not lie to me; I will know if you are lying to me, Jocelyn Childe.”

It unnerved her a bit; she could not remember ever telling him her full name.  She was tempted to ask but he seemed too desperate in these moments, she could not bring herself to interrupt him. “Yes, I do. I accept it; I know it with all of my heart. I have gone to my knees and begged Jesus for forgiveness of my sins; I did so because I knew he was the only way.”

Further down a walking trail she hear a woman screaming that her baby was gone, a man outside the park screaming that his wife had disappeared before his eyes, and frantic screams began to rise all around her. She turned to look at him; the sun was directly behind his head, making a halo of light behind him, “It is time to go home, Jocelyn.” In the blink of an eye, he was sitting on the bench alone amidst dozens of franticly screaming people.