By Peter Williams
A quiet voice reached out to the man asleep on the table, arms outstretched around his computer.
"David!" spoke the voice with more intensity, and the man sat up and looked around.
David looked at his computer screen where the screen saver was playing across the screen. A small figure would appear on the scene with a flame thrower and proceed to set murder mills on fire. As the figure left the scene the police and fire department would arrive to find a heap of ashes. They would jump up and down, shaking fists in the air, shouting "Drats! foiled again by the Army of God!"
The figure would start again on a different mill. The pictures of the mills were based on hundreds of pictures of actual mills which have yet to be destroyed. At the end of each sequence, there was a zoom to the shaft of the flame thrower, where pictures were attached. As the zoom continued, into focus came a series of pictures of the mills already destroyed.
At one point there was a collage of mill carnage overlaid with a poem:
David looked around to see what had wakened him. He could have sworn he had heard someone call his name. But he restrained himself, because he doesn't believe in swearing.
He sat with his head in his hands, trying to clear the cobwebs. He heard his name being called again. Clearly.
Dave cautiously began looking around the house to see who had invaded his home. He began to tick off the possibilities: FBI, BATF, Pro-aborts, witches, or pink triangle-waving Sodomites. Dave had made many enemies by publishing the truth in a magazine called the Pray & Do Monthly , published out of his basement with the help of his wife Dorothy.
Dave heard the voice yet again. He realized that it was the voice of the Lord. He took off his shoes and laid on his face before the Lord and said "Here I am, Lord. Speak to your servant."
"David, I have seen your heart go out to the helpless babies being slain by abortion. I have heard your intercessory prayers daily before me. I thank you for waiting and asking for wisdom as to what course of action you should take to save the Babies. I want you to call Ted Martin in Florida and have him meed you there in Des Moines, where I will tell you what you should do."
The fear began to fade, and Dave sat and worshipped and glorified God in song and prayer. He was still laying there when the sirens blared outside his house and jolted him. There was a fire truck and a rescue vehicle parked outside his house. People began to scramble from vehicles. One ran up to the front door and knocked loudly. Upon opening the door, David was confronted by a stocky man in firefighting gear, asking "Where is the fire?"
"Fire?! I don't know about any fire", Dave replied. "I'm just fine. I do appreciate your concern", Dave added, as the fireman peered past him into the rooms visible from the door. Dave wondered if this was a ruse to replace the bugs he had just removed, at considerable cost, a couple of days before.
Not that Dave had thought the bugs were a threat to his privacy. He had reasoned that if Feds can't seem to get it when he publishes information with all the eloquence he can muster, how are they ever going to comprehend little bits and pieces of casual conversations? But the bug sweep had been donated, and Dave had indeed been curious what would turn up. The results of the sweep were loaded into a pickup and sold for scrap metal for enough to pay the light bill for that month.
"But your next door neighbor called in, and said your house was engulfed in a blazing fire. They were terrified! They thought it was going to spread to their house!"
Dave looked at the neighbor, in her usual post half behind the kitchen curtain. The confusion on her face satisfied him that she had indeed made the call, and if she had, this was not a ruse. She didn't have the grit to cooperate with the Feds.
Into Dave's memory flashed an image of the Glory of God, in the form of fire and smoke, which entered the tabernacle while Moses ministered.
The fireman peered about the house one last time. ""Well, Mr. Reach, it seems like there were some false alarms. Three of them, to be exact. There's nothing I can see here, and I'm not the one who can figure out why."
He turned and walked off. The EMT's likewise got back into their vehicles Everyone departed.
Dave spent another hour in praise and worship before getting ready to go to work in his music store, called "Music Time", where Dave and his wife sold and rented musical instruments.
That evening David called up Ted Martin, a well known pro-lifer, bold and fearless in his service for the Lord and the babies. The phone rant twice before it was answered. The gruff voice said "Hella, how can I help you?"
"Hey, this is David Reach, and you will never guess what has just happened to me!"
"What?" Ted asked with a chuckle. "Is this another one of those pricey collect calls from the Polk County Jail? Did I just say 'I'll accept the call' in my sleep?"
Both had logged a good share of jail time for their efforts to save babies. Ted listened to Dave's story.
"Well, Dave, I have something to share with you as well. I had a dream last night, where a man told me I would be going to visit you, and join you in something really incredible."
They both broke into praise and worship, glorifying God for what He was doing and was about to do.
"I'd better go now", Ted said finally. "I have a lot of preparation before I can leave. Something tells me I will be gone for awhile, so I will prepare accordingly."
"I think you're right. And I have preparations to make myself."
They prayed, and then hung up, their minds and hearts racing.
A flurry of activity over the next few days culminated with the arrival, by auto, of Ted Martin, from the Sunshine State.
Next Friday night, there gathered, at the Reach house, a group of local believers for Bible Study, prayer, and worship. The study started out great. Dave had previously led the study on "Who Runs the Pulpit", and now the group was actually implementing 1 Corinthians 14. Everyone felt the Spirit begin to "move", and they went into prayer. Then Dave and Dorothy took to the piano and guitar, springing into songs of praise and worship as the others joined in. Hearts and souls were offering up worship, while eyes were closed, and arms lifted up in the air. No one saw the Angels as they entered the room, but everyone heard, as they joined in the singing! Eyes peeked open, bulging, for secret seconds, but the Spirit was filling the room, so everyone went right back to praising with a new intensity, as their hearts were laid before the Lord.
The music was so indescribable that soon everyone had stopped to listen to the angels sing two more songs. Then silence filled the room as one of the angels called the others to attention. The six snapped to attention, and drew their hands into fists, and placed them over their hearts like a salute. They took up positions around the room, as the one who seemed in charge motioned to Dave and Ted to step forward, which they did with a little hesitation.
The angel walked up and stood in front of Dave and Ted, looked them both in the eyes, with a serious expression chiseled on his face.
"David, Ted, the Lord has seen your hearts, and that you are seeking to serve and love God. He has seen your love for the unborn children as well. The Lord has chosen you to bear His message to America. Jesus has been sending warning after warning to your nation, but the hearts of the people are hardened and blinded to the judgment that is about to be unleashed. You will be the voice of the Lord, and the Lord will show the nation mighty signs and wonders through you. But you will face persecution and uncertainty in your work. But know that the Prince of Peace will be with you in all that you do, and will bring you to a victorious completion of the Work to which He has assigned you."
The meeting went on through the night, and into the early morning hours, as, one by one, several nodded off to sleep. Others managed to get to their cars and drive home before succumbing. The celestial visitors told Dave and Ted "We will remain, to help." Then with a flash of light they vanished, leaving the two men speechless. By 2 a.m., they, too, were snoring.
By 6 a.m. the rooster was crowing. The sleepers felt sheepish about falling asleep in Dave's living room, but since they were already there, and it was time to get ready for a day at McMurderville, as Dave the called the local Baby Gulag, they decided to wash up and go from there.
Dorothy whisked around in the kitchen while Dave milked Dolly. Soon there was enough to feed an Army of God, and everyone was digging in with gusto. There was an aura of expectation in the air. Everyone wondered what God was going to do that morning.
After breakfast, everyone cleaned up, and loaded into their individual vehicles. The procession began to wind its way to the killing chamber across town.
They arrived a little early. Only one other pro-baby family had arrived thus far. They were sitting in their car eating fast food breakfast. While some unloaded picket signs and got literature ready, others shared with the Jonsons what had happened the night before. Soon all were caught up in a chorus of "Our God is an Awesome God".
Our songs multiplied and varied, as people arrived. The "deathscorts" and murder workers stared with apprehension, and a bit of fear, at this unexplained phenomenon of more and more people arriving. They called in the police, fearing a "rescue", or other life-saving action.
People kept coming, with no end in sight! Soon the mill was surrounded with 1,000 people, according to later news accounts, indicating there must have been about 5,000.
Most of the people had never come to a murder mill before! Most were just once-a-year March-for-Lifers who had felt called to come that morning.
Ted Martin was now in his natural element. He was preaching up a storm, calling for repentance, and thundering forth the Word of God.
He was preaching like this when 60 police arrived, almost the entire on-duty force for Des Moines. Additional police and sheriffs from surrounding suburbs trickled in. The police filled all the murder center's parking places and set up barricades around it.
The service went on. There was singing and prayer.
A large man with dark olive skin and raven black hair called for Dave and Ted to speak with him for a few moments on the side. The two accompanied him with some caution. They spoke for several minutes as the singing continued.
Dave and Ted then left the man, and walked over to where the police had drawn their line, and asked to speak to whoever was in charge. They were escorted to a Winnebago camper that served as a mobile command center. They were ushered in at once. The inside was neat and orderly, and coffee was placed before them as they sat down. Ted gulped it down and asked for seconds. Dave said he didn't like coffee; did they have any grape juice?
The officer in front of them had an intimidating presence, backed up by his 6'5", 300 lb. frame. He had been a Marine Commando in Nam and went to police academy right after the war.
Lt. Joshua and David were well acquainted, since Joshua had arrested Dave several times, and had a grudging respect for the way Dave's Christian talk matched his daily behavior. Dave had the respect of many others on the force.
"Joshua," Dave said, "I want you to evacuate the killing center as soon as possible."
Joshua sat back, startled. "Why?" he asked suspiciously.
David shared what happened the night before and of the visit by one of the angels minutes ago.
"The angel said he was about to speak God's judgment down upon the House of Death, after warning those inside to leave. The angel said God wanted to give those inside one last warning to leave that wicked place before God's judgment fell, so that those remaining inside would be only those truly committed to the service of Hell."
The hulking Lieutenant was melodramatically skeptical as he answered "No way! I will not be the messenger boy for any such threat!"
Ted pointedly rose from his chair. "Please excuse me. I don't need to waste any more of your time." He left.
Dave remained. But the Lieutenant surely thought Dave had blown a gasket and flipped out.
Dave repeated his plea, pressing his point.
"Dave, it's always a pleasure doing business with you", Joshua said sarcastically. "Now why don't you go join your friend? If you threatened to bomb the clinic yourself, I would arrest you. But I'm not going to go around arresting angels. What angels do is not my concern. Good bye."
Dave stepped outside, to hear Ted on his megaphone, warning the people inside to leave, to escape the judgment of God's Angels. A few did, but most shook their fists at him through the sealed windows, their angry mouths moving in Silent Screams.
God was setting the stage.
Joshua angrily followed, seeing the few people exiting. He met them, and tried to reason with them. Most were even more frightened by his agitation, and left the more hurriedly. But one was persuaded. Joshua escorted that murderous mother back into the jaws of Hell. Ted and Dave encouraged the crowds to retreat to a safe distance from the condemned building.
A block away a farmer waited at a stop light, not knowing the patch he had put on his pickup's gas tank had come off about a block back. He was on his way back to his farm, carrying a 200 gallon fiberglass tank in the back, which he had just filled.
Two Satanists, protesting the pro-baby people, stood near the waiting pickup as they cursed and sucked on their bottled water. Tabatha, the taller of the two, cursed the Christians and their God. She was decked out in Gothic-black clothes, with black makeup around her eyes, earrings all the way across her eyebrows, ears, nose, mouth, with many crosses, some on necklaces. The two opened up a pack of cigarettes, took out a smoke each.
Tabatha didn't like those effeminate paper matches. She liked those sturdy cowboy matches made out of seasoned Pine. She lifted up her black army boot behind her, and struck the match on her heel, lighting their two smokes. They took the last smokes of their lives as Tabatha discarded the still burning match in the growing puddle at their feet.
Ted Martin raised a Bible in one arm, reaching for the sky, as the other arm aimed at the mill -- thumb and index finger cocked and pointed like a pistol. His voice, coming from deep within, thundered out, while silence rode across the scene in an instant, as everyone turned to stare at the imposing figure.
"God has been more than patient with the killers in the building, and has given them many warnings to repent and change their ways. But instead of stopping, they not only stepped up the killing of the babies, but they persecuted those who came out to plead for the lives of the children! Now the time has come for judgment to fall!"
He brought the Bible down flat and brought his fist down on it when an explosion ripped through the air as the pickup's gas tank blew to pieces. The farmer himself survived, because of steel tool chests in the front of his bed, but the blast propelled the fiberglass tank high in the sky, a flaming meteor. At the mill, all eyes were upon the clinic as a fireball appeared in the sky, and smashed through the roof of the building. Seconds later, the whole building was in flames, as the fuel tank burst through the roof and ignited upon impact, sending liquid fire everywhere. Seconds later the whole building was in flames.
In the relative silence as the deafening explosion gave way to the mere roaring of flames, David's loud, crisp voice could be heard saying "This is the final warning to the killers of children. Turn from the killing and you will be spared for a season, with time to turn to God. Otherwise, prepare to meet your physical death here and your eternal death to follow."
There was a surge within the crowd, as police mobbed the two men, carrying them off in shackles and handcuffs to a nearby squad car. The crowd dispersed, as fire and rescue vehicles arrived, along with fire inspectors and BATF agents.
The two "prophets", as they were dubbed sarcastically at the police station, were grilled for several hours and held overnight before being released to a singing throng outside at 5 a.m. The two were taken to breakfast where everyone was caught up to speed on what had been going on. The mill was a complete loss, and no one inside, including 11 police, survived. Besides the police, the toll inside consisted of two butchers, the receptionist, a secretary, ten other workers, and two mothers. Outside, the toll consisted of the two Satanists, and a security guard posted just outside the building.
After breakfast, the group of 25 drove to another killing center in Des Moines, Wild Man East, the clinic operated by Des Moines Colonel Hospital which leased space to baby killer Hobart Reamer.
They arrived at 6:45, where they pulled out their signs and waited for others to arrive. Again it was a record-breaking day. Summers usually brought out turnouts of a dozen, which had been considered high. But during this holiday weekend, and spurred by the blast the day before, the crowd swelled to such numbers as were reported in the Demon RedStar as "at least 1500"!
Within an hour the building was cordoned off and the police had the place blocked off with barricades and a living wall of officers. This time no officers ventured inside.
On the other side of town, someone was mad, killing mad, at the director of Reamer's Killing Services. Anthony was the private security guard at the killing center, or at least he had been until yesterday. The prolifers were just eating away at the business too deeply, and they blamed him! Of all the dirty tricks! They accused him of theft, and had threatened to have him arrested if he did not quit.
Once he quit, he would lose his health care, which paid for the expensive psychotherapic drugs that kept him on the level along with his daily doses of street drugs.
He unwrapped a foil of white powder and inhaled deeply from his roommate's stash, not knowing it was PCP instead of cocaine). Soon the drug kicked in and inspired him to a grand plot to get even.
He opened a box of dynamite in the basement, put a belt around his midsection, and began to slip 30 sticks of the wet dynamite (wet, because it was very old and was sweating TNT!) into the belt. He slipped on his coat and ID badge over the explosives so that it could not be seen at all on the outside. Every stick had been armed with a blasting cap and a fuse.
Anthony almost flipped out when he discovered he was not alone! A demon, disguised as the grim reaper, appeared beside him as he hallucinated, telling him how and what he should do. The reaper promised him he would not die, but would become immortal!
Anthony staggered out the door and got into his car, the Reaper riding on the roof, and drove to the mill on his mission of mayhem.
It was Dave who was doing the preaching this morning, across the street from the driveway to the killing Center.
Wild Man East was located, appropriately, next to a funeral home. The parking lot of Wild Man, combined with the parking lot of the funeral home, could accommodate the crowds. The police lined the lots while pro-killers went about searching for prolifers to torment.
Dave was preaching out of Psalm 94. "The God of Israel is merciful, but His patience has run out. This is your last chance to flee this house of horrors. Death is even now at the door and the Grim Reaper is lifting his dreaded sickle for a harvest of blood. There are many offices in this complex which do not murder babies, but they are polluted by their friendship with murder. They profit from murder, they socialize with murder, and they cannot be trusted to value your life when you go to them. And now God will answer the prayers of those who grieve for the oppression of the innocent!"
The pro-killers chanted, the police kept asking people in the crowd if someone was making threats, and a black pickup truck with black windows pulled up outside the parking lot and passed the officers on duty.
In the back window there was a mirror skull and crossbones on the window, in mirror tinting. Anthony looked and saw the Reaper now, standing in front of Wild Man East, eyes glowing fire red. He pointed his sickle at the building while a voice in Anthony's head screamed "NOW! Do it NOW!"
Dave stood and shouted at the top of his lungs, "O Lord God, to whom vengeance belongs, O lord God, to whom vengeance belongs, show yourself, Lift up yourself, great Judge of the Earth: render a reward to the proud!"
Anthony slammed his foot to the floor. The truck screamed across the lot, scattering borts and cops alike, until it slammed through the windows of the building. As it passed within, the Reaper reached in and touched the dynamite/TNT.
As Dave completed his statement, an explosion ripped through the afternoon, as the truck blew up, going 40 mph through the inside walls of Wild Man East. The blast leveled the mill and sent a hail of shrapnel in all directions. The borts and the first few rows of police were mowed down by flying glass and debris. As pandemonium was unleashed wholesale, the grim reaper towered over the area, laughing and bathing in the agony and pain.
Anthony was not invincible! As the Reaper led him off in chains, he realized how terrible was his mistake, as the Reaper transformed into his true form and shared with Anthony what his future held.
Anthony began to scream, as the flames began to rise. A terrible thirst, along with terror, seized him. He began to shriek in terror, as his eternity began.
The police who survived again held "the prophets" for another bout of questioning. But this time the police asked about things like angels, and salvation. They were torn between their fear and their love of power, which they did not relish relinquishing to God. So between the questions about God and salvation, were the usual questions about conspiracies, and breaking twisted applications of man's laws.
In fact they were under intense pressure, not just from their local government but from federal intelligence agencies, and from news reporters across the globe, to not be too quick to dismiss a conspiracy scenario. Is it possible the trajectory of the gas tank could have been calculated by a human planner? Is it possible prolifers could have somehow "gotten to" Reamer's security guard and transformed into a suicide bomber? Very difficult to fathom! But remotely possible?
The police were soon joined by agents from every federal intelligence agency. They knew it was not enough to be personally convinced the two "prophets" were innocent. They had to be able to prove it to their superiors, the appointees of President Klingon.
Nevertheless they were fearful enough of the two to allow the two to leave at their own pleasure. After a fruitful Bible study, wherein confessions of sins and repentance before Almighty God were interspersed with unmerciful questioning, the two decided to leave. It was about supper time.
Reporters from all over the world, who had started on their journey after the previous day's miracles, were waiting for them.
But the two only quoted Scripture. No matter what the question, their answer was Scripture. Dave had his computer with his Bible program, so if the two wanted to answer a certain question with a certain verse they thought of, but they couldn't remember the exact wording or the reference, they simply looked it up and read it to the reporters.
They answered with Scripture about Judgment, Scripture about the unborn, and action Scripture such as Proverbs 24:11-12. This only angered most reporters, who had no intention of reprinting Scripture! So the two quoted Scriptures about anger, and about shutting God out of all our thinking and reasoning and law making!
Rumors were flying from eyewitnesses how the two seemingly called down the Judgment of God like the prophets of old. The media was on a feeding frenzy, flying after one rumor after another, from murder plots to supernatural intervention, with talk of amazing circumstances filling the gaps in between the rumors. In the same manner that reporters cover geological finds with a prejudice towards evolution which only makes them look like fools to those who know the facts, the reporters asked rude, leading questions of the two, insinuating they had masterminded a human conspiracy, even though their ignorant questions made them look like idiots to anyone who had seen the unedited footage of both events which had been repeatedly aired on all three networks!
To such obviously prejudiced and ignorant questions, the two answered with passages such as:
Satan's visage was fully manifest in the countenances of many reporters who had flown a thousand miles for a damning quote, and could get nothing but Scripture! They could not get a single thing they could USE!
The spectacle was educational for many less Satanized reporters. They were amazed that God had written so many things which were indeed relevant to such a wide variety of questions and issues.
But more than that: their consciences were really gnawing at them about their no-exceptions policy of never quoting Scripture in a story, not even in a story like this where not only were the central facts of the story a mighty miracle of God, which so obviously had been coordinated by God with the declarations of two Scripture-quoting humans, but also where the miracle rather pointedly proved God's verdict upon the most controversial Law of the Land.
They knew very well how their employers and advertisers had felt about the irrelevance of God. They knew that had they submitted a story which included Scripture yesterday, it would have meant not only the end of their job, but of their career. But many began to reflect that this had changed. No matter what the big money sponsors pulling the strings behind the scenes wanted, there was simply too much public pressure to carry on business as usual.
Even more important to them than their careers was their reputations. Many reporters were being publicly humiliated by the couple of networks which were carrying every word of the press conferences unedited. The public was seeing the Scriptural, and sometimes cutting and humorous, answers of the two, and then watching the most Satanized reporters censoring all Scripture and portraying the two as having carried out the two events themselves. They were become public laughingstocks! They became the butts of jokes in eateries! Forget Rush Limbaugh and Michael Reagan; Jay Leno made his whole monologue about them!
Less Satanized reporters saw this and decided public ridicule was not for them. They didn't hate the facts that much. Their jobs didn't pay enough to throw away every last shred of their dignity in the eyes of men! Let abortionists throw away their reputations and risk their lives, if they would; they got paid enough. Not reporters.
Pastors knew how to "go with the flow" as well as news reporters. Suddenly every sermon, in every denomination, was about what God says about abortion, and about how we cannot be content to merely preach about it, but we must physically surround the murderers, in greater numbers than police could ever react to, and simply put a stop to it! Why, it wouldn't be that hard, they finally figured out! All it would take was a little organization. People could serve in shifts, without anyone being overly inconvenienced.
The next day, when the handful of doctors at Lothlorian Hospital who don't mind an occasional abortion tried to get out of their cars, they were mobbed by about 3,000 people, while hundreds of others mobbed the administrative offices to pressure them to revoke the "visiting privileges" of the doctors.
(That amounted to an average of 20 people each from about half of Des Moines' roughly 300 churches.)
Among the hundreds who visited the administrative offices were dozens of wealthy contributors to the hospital, who had sat through church sermons for the past 25 years before it ever occurred to them they were financing murder! But now that it occurred to them, Hospital administrators quickly understood that if they continued to do abortions, their budget would suffer out of all proportion to the financial value of those abortions!
The police came and watched, but didn't try to interfere. Those police who hadn't sat under the same sermons were filled in by those who had. They knew (1) they hadn't the physical power to protect the doctors from the crowd, even if they called every law officer in the area and left the entire area unprotected from real crime; and (2) even if they could succeed, the respect of the community would depart from them. The tide had turned. They wanted to be the targets of jokes and citizen wrath even less than reporters; because in a dangerous job like theirs already was, serious erosion of public support is not merely humiliating, but quite dangerous.
Fairly quickly the doctors had either resigned, or publicly pledged never to do an abortion, or even a D&C on a woman without being certain she is not pregnant.
The newly energized pastors turned their attention to Iowa Methamphetamine Hospital. But they didn't need to muster the crowds. Their initial phone calls resulted in pledges never to allow abortions of any kind being immediately faxed out.
In Iowa City, the same thing was happening. Outside the freestanding abortion chamber, "Ima Goldigger", several thousand stood vigil, while dozens of pastors preached to their followers clustered in the crowd, for a solid week, with little interest shown by the police.
But that was only half the blow to the murderers. The other half was the calls from customers canceling appointments. All expressed contempt for the "services" the "clinic" had very nearly given them!
From day one, clinic staff could not get inside their buildings. For the first few days, a helicopter dropped a carpenter and a few staff onto the roof, cut an access hole, and waited for customers to be airlifted. But there were no customers, and only discouraging calls. For the rest of the week, the building was abandoned. Phone calls were diverted to another site.
By the second week, the killers had re-evaluated their financial position, had publicly announced termination of their business, had begun looking for tenants who might want to pay for the high security they had installed (regional gold dealers, ammo wholesalers, etc), and the killer himself was taking his savings, running from his debts, and was on his way to a retirement in Central America.
Part of the crowd had already stood vigil outside Versatility Hospitals in Iowa City. On the second hour of the first day the entire crowd was free to focus on Versatility, the hospital publicly repented of its murders. They really did! They didn't just concede defeat. They finally understood that their past conduct had been "sinful"! They had "shown disregard for the rights of the most innocent among us"! They had "abandoned the mission of saving life" and eroded "the public trust in their commitment to quality of life for all".
Like a signature on an affidavit, this statement was accompanied by the replacement of the hospital administrator by an official "prolifer", while the former administrator retired to an obscure, that is less public, position on the Hospital Board.
News like this began spreading all over America. The next thing pastors suddenly noticed was that "birth control" methods are abortifacients. The market for abortifacients quickly plummeted, rendering boycotts redundant.
Although the weight of opinion shift in the American Public was mere "follow the leader" peer pressure, the shift was not shallow. Because in fact, the leaders; that is, those who don't follow others, but follow the facts, had wholeheartedly shifted. When God speaks, it has an impact. A few people listen, and those who are too ditsy to listen, follow.
No longer did America suffer the spectacle of "prolife leaders" lumping the violence of abortion with the "violence" of stopping the violence of abortion! Why not? Because the tide of public opinion had shifted so sharply that such demeaning concessions were simply no longer necessary. Instead, those same prolife leaders studied their Bibles and found new arguments in defense of the effective defense of the unborn.
When these leaders presented their new findings to church leaders, they no longer resisted. Well, some did. But others took up the same reasoning, and even the opposition to it was muted.
When God speaks, it has an impact on His people.
Abortionists all over America began retiring in Central America. Those not ready for retirement found employment in China. Soon there were no abortions in places like New Jersey, Florida, Iowa, Washington, Oregon, Missouri, Ohio, or New York!
One of the last holdouts was murderer Jim Killer in Wichita. He had a creek by his butcher shop, which he dammed up, so that he could bring in customers by boat. Even with thousands of people lining the half-mile long canal, all a murdering mother had to do was slip through the crowd into the water as a boat passed, in order to get a boatride to hell.
Dave and Ted decided they needed to work Wichita into their nationwide tour.
It was like the old days: police lines, pro-killers, and children of light all facing each other across barricades. After a time of praise, worship and prayer, Ted Martin started preaching.
Killer had many pricey additions to his cluster of buildings. His facilities provided for murder, baptisms of the murdered babies, funeral services, and cremations. And now an enclosed boat pier.
One of the buildings had a foundation about 5 years old. It was solid enough, but when it was poured, the gas line was within the pour, instead of below it as the law provides. This saved money at the time.
This never posed a problem until recently. The ground had been hard packed under one side of the building, and barely packed on the other, so over the course of time, the packed earth began to expand with moisture. One side was pressing up, placing stress on the foundation itself. Finally a fracture in the pour developed, and the scene was set for disaster.
As Ted was warning the police, borts, butchers and workers that judgment was waiting under their feet, to consume them, some of them began to walk away. The first to leave were several police officers, followed by a group of pro-aborts.
Unnoticed by anyone, the foundation broke, and a crack spread all the way across the building. When the foundation split, the gas line was twisted, and a large rip appeared in its side. Gas poured out in a heavy cloud of poison.
Although the line was torn, enough continued going through to keep the hot water pilots on.
Outside, more and more policemen and borts were leaving, while within the basement, gas fumes reached the flash point.
Ted began to issue his closing salvo, in his message pronouncing God's judgment.
"God said it would be better for a person to hang a millstone around his neck and jump into the deepest part of the ocean, than to harm a little child. God has lovingly warned you, and now you will reap the fruits of what you have sown. You have sown seeds of murder and now you will reap a harvest of death."
As he spoke the word "death", the gas, already at a flash point in the basement, burst into the crematorium.
As everyone around the world watched on TV, the building was consumed in a ball of flames, throwing debris, shrapnel, and a terrifying blast, for a great distance.
Beginning that evening and demanding headlines for weeks, Prisoners of Christ, imprisoned for saving lives, were pardoned by state governors. Prisoners on federal charges were considered for pardon by the successor of the finally impeached Bill Klingon.
The pardons were portrayed as defiance against the Supreme Court. They gave new life to hundreds of cases of "prolife violence" already before the Court. Prior to this time the Court had refused to hear any such case. But under such overwhelming national pressure, the Court not only heard such a case, but gave it expedited review. Without actually overturning Roe, the Court ruled that lower courts had erred in not allowing defendants to use the Necessity Defense, because the "Comparison of Harms" test, (whether the "harm" of hundreds of abortions outweighs the "harm" of destroying a building, or even of killing an abortionist), depends upon the fact of whether or not abortion is a "harm", and the jury, not the judge, is supposed to be the trier of fact.
The Court ruled that when the only contested fact before a jury was whether or not the harm prevented was greater than the harm caused, and when the jury is not allowed to decide that issue, so that there is only one contested fact in the case but it is decided by the judge so that the jury decides nothing, then that amounts to a denial of the right to trial by jury.
The Court ruled that Roe remained, which prohibited states from outlawing abortion, on the reasoning that society had not reached consensus on whether life begins at conception. But the Court noted that Roe had never said individuals, with personal convictions that life begins at conception, could not take legal steps to prevent abortion. And of course, in determining whether a step taken to prevent abortion is legal, no court may use illegal means to bar any defense.
They court vacated the lower court trial because it had prohibited the jury from considering the Necessity Defense.
Defendants in other cases, already decided, used this ruling to reopen their cases and reverse convictions. Lawsuits to recover fines and lawsuit judgments were filed against Clerks of Court, many of whom, in the prevailing public climate, quickly settled by refunding the fines and awards. Defendants who had opted for bench trials filed to reopen their cases,
arguing that the only reason they had rejected jury trials is that they knew their juries would not be allowed to hear that defense anyway.
The day after Shelley Shannon was released, she joined Dave and Ted in a walk across the half-cleared debris of Killer's Clinic. Tears flowed as they led a group of worshippers, followed in turn by respectful media, in a tour of the debris, and in a boat ride down the still intact canal.
"It's over!" Shelley sobbed. "It's over! It's over! It's over!"
"Babies are safe in the womb once again", Ted worshipped.
"America repented before it was too late", Dave said with joy! We didn't dare believe such a prayer would be answered!"
A small delegation emerged from the crowd and introduced themselves.
"Shelley, I'm John Bos, president of the Chamber of Commerce. This is Ed Hailey, vice president of the Wichita Development Corporation. And Jane Paulsey, from the Governor's office.
"We want to thank you for honoring Wichita with your visit today. We deeply apologize for the way Wichita treated you on your last visit."
A symphony of camera shutters, whirring, clicking, swelled with that statement.
Jane continued, "We are deeply ashamed that Wichita was the last to let go of its wicked trade in innocent flesh. To this day we suffer ridicule, for this, across America.
"But we are troubled by more than our reputation. As we worked to end the shame of abortion, we came face to face with the same corrupt cause of abortion which we know you appreciate better than we can: a runaway judiciary which disregards the restraints of the other branches of government, the restraints of the law, and the restraints of common sense."
Ed took up the discourse: "Shelley, we've had a lot of discussions about this problem. We've consulted with legal minds who have wrestled with the problem far longer than we were aware of it."
In the respectful pause Ed allowed, in case Shelley was ready to join the discussion, Shelley answered, "Praise God, abortion is dead! But left as it is, the judicial branch will continue to oppress the unwary, and slay the innocent. America's judiciary was not this way in the beginning. To get it to this point, Satan had to do three things to it: remove the full authority of juries to decide cases, silence the voices of all who would help the accused other than those of a special privileged class, and remove the Bible as the foundation of all law. Once they had achieved the first two, no one could stop them from the third."
The committee was nodding and dabbing at tears. They had considered the same ideas, but Shelley had not only considered them but had lived under their terror. Her resolution refreshed them. For Shelley's part, openness to these truths from community leaders left her overwhelmed, and even a bit disoriented. She could not continue.
"What shall we do?" someone asked.
Shelley nodded to Dave and Ted. Ted stepped forward. "Break the monopoly of the Bar association. Reduce their power to what it was when the Sixth Amendment 'Right To Counsel' was drafted. If the accused, in those days, wanted assistance from someone who wasn't a practicing attorney, the accused had the right to the assistance of counsel of his own choice."
Dave chimed in. "The language wasn't accidental. There were abuses by attorneys in those days, too, to the extent that riots broke out in protest. Angry mobs even burned two court houses to the ground! The language of the 6th Amendment was forged in the crucible of those concerns. But even in those days, no one ever thought of telling the accused they couldn't have their neighbor help present their case, or that once the accused chose counsel, the accused had to shut up; that the accused, and his counsel, might not present their case together!"
Ted resumed, "It wasn't until this century that only Bar Members could run for office as judges, and of course it wasn't until a generation ago that judges were appointed, in Kansas, rather than being elected, as they still are in Florida, although there was a recent drive to get them appointed there, too."
John stepped towards Shelley so he could speak quietly enough to not be heard by the media. "Shelley, we have come to ask you something. You don't have to answer now. You can think about our offer. You can take your time, and we will try to answer any questions you have. We can talk about it later, or if you want to talk with us now, in privacy, we have a limousine nearby in which we can all fit."
John leaned closer still and asked, even more quietly, "We have come to you to ask you to help us break the monopoly of the Bar Association in Wichita. If you are willing to serve, the Governor is ready to appoint you as a District Judge to replace Judge Hardnut, who died of a heart attack the night God judged Killer. He would have to appoint you subject to the legislature annulling a couple of laws limiting judgeships to bar members, such as Kansas 20-334(a). But by leaving the vacancy unfilled until the legislature acts, it is his hope that the legislature will be pressured to act quickly."
That was absolutely too much to bear! Dave simply could not stand it one second longer!
He woke up.
Had he been wakened by a voice? No. Only by a dream.
"But what's this?" he said to himself. "What's this on the computer screen? Why, when I cried myself to sleep, there were just a couple of sentences I had started. Now look! A whole story! Here, let me put my word counter on it: wow, a whopping 3854 words! Hmmm. Pretty good story, too. But, but who put it here? Says some guy named 'Peter'. Never heard of him. A pen name? Probably some New World Order plot. "Hmmm. Story line's a little weak here and there. Here, I'll fix it. There. Yeah, there. Well, I'm an editor, right? Isn't that what editors do? Edit? Sure. Hmmm. Now it says 7735 words. Now it's ready."
It makes a difference when God speaks.
Lord, hear our prayer! Go before us, as you always went before your outnumbered, but faithful people in Bible times! Lord, we can't seem to get through to our critics how serious Your Word says you are about murdering babies. Help us make Your point, with evidence they cannot ignore! Go before us, Lord!
You don't need to limit your miracles to miraculous coordination of natural forces and circumstances, as this story portrays. You can bring judgment out of nothing. The value of this story is just to remind those who take you for granted that the most stable elements in their lives can become lethal weapons against them, at Your Word.
Or you can eliminate the need for judgment. The essence of our prayer is for revival. Revival before it is too late, while there is still an America left to be revived!
We pray for you to "go before us" in judgment against baby murderers, in some manner which proves to everybody that it was by Your Hand, so that anyone with even the slightest claim of allegience to you will have to acknowledge Your hatred of abortion, and even your enemies will have to face the fact that what You have decreed is relevent to how they are going to be able to live, after all.
Go before us, Lord!
Peter Williams said he was inspired to write this story (that is, what little there was of it before Uncle Ed. got his hands on it) by Uncle Ed.'s previously published prayer for such events. Here, reprinted in full, is that prayer and its expanation.
This was first published Jan/C/94, and then reprinted May/C/94, February 1997, and now November 1998. The prayer was mentioned during the court proceedings of one of David Shedlock's trials. Seems like the Des Moines Register mentioned it once, too.
Editor's prayer request
Can you join me in praying that God will burn down the Planned Murderhood in Des Moines in a manner which no one can mistake for any human torching, or mechanical accident, but which impartial investigators will have to attribute to miraculous (unexplainable) causes, and which Christians will have to attribute to the Hand of God?
This prayer request hit me only while typing up Brockhoeft's story, but already I am swimming in reasons this is the right thing to publicly pray for, and this is the right time to do it.
Am I copping out? Am I now waiting for God to do something he wants me to do, a sin for which I have often enough chided others? I believe my "excuse" for not torching PP is godly. I believe God has put me in a wonderful, unique position where I will be able to save more babies with several years full of words than with a single act followed by several years in jail deprived of a word processor, offset press, and second class permit. Not to mention other battles, too, that need to be fought and chronicled.
I see no inclination among other Iowa Rescuers to take any physical measures against abortuary buildings, much less persons. No other human deliverance is in sight.
I believe it is wrong to ask God to do what God commands us to do. But it is God's will, it appears from Scripture, when we are fighting near our capacity, against all human odds, thereby demonstrating our faith in God to do what we cannot, to fight with us, and by His Almighty hand to earn the victory.
I believe many pro-lifers in Iowa have committed themselves 101% to this holy work and may be operating close to capacity, yet more and more babies are being killed, and more and more hearts are being hardened.
Frankly, what we need is REVIVAL. And that can not happen as long as the only thing people see is humans doing what they imagine is right, by their own power. Not that there aren't countless miracles in the lives of dedicated Christians, without which they could not persevere.
But we have a big problem here. Babies have a big problem. So I pray for a big miracle.
I pray for a miracle big enough to settle whether the classification of abortion as "murder" is an "opinion" of Christians who have no right to "impose" it on others, or a LAW of God to which all men and women had better submit!
I pray for a miracle big enough to assure Bible-believing fence sitters that saving babies is a duty of God's churches.
I pray for a miracle big enough to convince members of churches that don't believe the Bible is the Word of God that there is a God after all who has definite, specific positions, and who judges man for sin (though with incomprehensible patience, Romans 2:4, waiting as long as hundreds of years, Genesis 15:16), who delivers the oppressed, (although in the case of adults He waits until they are ready to be delivered; Exodus 2:14 illustrated Israel's unreadiness, so God had to wait another 40 years) and Who, therefore, has provided us an accurate record of His Will in order to hold us accountable to it.
I pray for a miracle big enough to encourage Bible-believing pro-lifers, lobbyists, and legislators that God's Will, as expressed in His Word, is relevant to public dis-cussion after all. (I pray for our rulers anyway.)
I pray for a miracle big enough that no state or federal judge will be able to delude himself, when judging Rescuers, that he or she is not also daring to judge the Judge of Judges.
I pray for a miracle big enough to be a spring board for faith-driven efforts to vigorously remove abortion not only from Iowa's clinics, but from Iowa's culture, starting with schools!
I pray for a miracle big enough to be a springboard for REVIVAL!
I was watching Pat Robertson's 700 Club when a hurricane was heading up the East Coast, not heading straight in and dissipating like most hurricanes, but moving right along the coast, staying close enough to the ocean that it could continue its full fury, devastating the coastline for hundreds of miles, beginning in the South and continuing as far as New York. Virginia Beach was in about the center of the path of destruction. But Robertson prayed, and asked viewers all over America to pray, that the hurricane would spare the 700 Club facilities.
Then I watched the news reports, and praise God, the hurricane headed back out to sea just before it reached Virginia Beach! Not inland to dissipate, but back out to sea.
But then, even more amazing, as soon as it got out of reach of Virginia Beach, it turned North again. And as soon as it got north of Virginia Beach, it headed back west to land! And when it got to land, instead of continuing on in to dissipate, it turned back north to follow the coast all the way to New York!
How could any rational observer avoid the conclusion that God still answers the prayers of believers, even in the midst of judgment?
And yet when Pat Robertson later ran for president, news reports mocked Robertson as the man who thought he could pray away hurricanes! Of course news reporters never fleshed out that charge with any detail, because if they told what happened, they would look stupid and bigoted.
I tell you all of that to let you know I realize God's miraculous judgment will not very likely be acknowledged as such in the Bible-denying press. But when fire falls from heaven on Planned Murderhood and I am mocked for believing God would judge them in answer to prayer, at least reporters won't be able to flesh out their ridicule with details, lest they embarrass themselves.
When do I pray for this to happen? Sometime between this morning and the point where knowledge of this prayer has spread about as far as it can spread, so that the maximum possible number of people will be watching PM and wondering. Because I expect that after it happens, the press will suppress details of the miraculous nature of the event, trying to blame it on radical humans to avoid acknowledging a "radical" God! I expect therefore that the only people who would even think of reading between the lines of news reports for evidence of God's hand would be those who knew before of the prayer for PM's destruction by God's Hand. That's why the maximum possible number of people should know about the prayer before it happens, so that God will receive the glory in the maximum possible number of hearts, sowing seeds of REVIVAL.
"What makes you think God will answer such a bold prayer?"
When Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego were on trial for refusing to bow to the golden image of Nebuchadnezzar, they didn't say "Ha ha, you can't get me, because God told us He would protect us." They said "O Nebuchadnezzar, we are not careful [we aren't afraid] to answer thee in this matter. If it be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and he will deliver us out of thine hand, O king. But if not, be it known unto thee, O king, that we will not serve thy gods, nor worship the golden image which thou hast set up." Dan 3:16-18.
In the same spirit, I have not said God has appeared to me in the flesh and told me His intentions. But God IS ABLE to judge PM with fire from heaven. And so, in the absence of any Scripture advising me to the contrary, I am determined to pray that He will, because as I explore all the options before humans, I no longer perceive any human options.
We stand like Israel before the walls of Jericho, bold and believing enough ("Lord, help thou mine unbelief!") but utterly helpless to do anything more by our own efforts.
There is no letup for the babies in sight, and PM meanwhile pushes for pregnancy-related medical services ON SCHOOL PREMISES through its state-funded "School-Based Youth Services Program", and it promotes what it calls "full implementation of Human Growth and Development".
Am I commanding God? ME?! Hardly. I seek to obey God's commandments. My impression from Scripture is that God always likes the warriors who go to battle in His name to be vastly outnumbered by human count, so that no one will be able to question that the deliverance was His. How much better that is, than faith in ourselves, which will always be followed by lawmaking based on the evil imaginations of men, instead of God's merciful, freedom-protecting laws!
"If ye abide in me, and my words abide in you, ye shall ask what ye will, and it shall be done unto you." John 15:7
Lord, stop Dsm's PM!
And take out as many other abortuaries as you like at the same time!
Give them a little time to repent. If Jill June repents and turns PM into a Bible-believing church, then forget this prayer! But if they keep killing, judge them! Hear the silent screams of your little ones!
And when Herbert Remer, the Clive (a suburb of Des Moines) abortionist, goes on trial March 7 for assaulting OR Communications Director Rev. Dave Shedlock, let him lose his medical license. Unless he repents!
(Postscript: Remer is still reaming. There was a long, drawn-out, headline-grabbing investigation of him by the licensing board, but the charges against him were finally judged unfounded, by reasoning withheld from the public.)
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