“And he said, What hast thou done? the voice of thy brother’s blood crieth unto me from the ground.”
In a small town in a war-torn country, a family huddles around the ruins of what was once their home, weeping over the rubble representing the cumulative history of generations. Their minds flooding with memories, their broken hearts crying, “Why? Why us? Is there anyone who cares?”
Lying in a filthy apartment, gazing through bloodshot eyes at the squalor that his life has become, a drug addict reaches for the needle. He knows that what he is about to do will only give him a temporary reprieve, but a short flight from reality is all he has to look forward to. While he draws the vile substance into a rusty needle and searches for a vein, he remembers his journey into addiction. He recalls the first time his doctor prescribed oxycodone, the promises of pain relief, and the desperate search for a replacement when his prescription was suddenly denied. He pushes the plunger home, and as he slips into oblivion, his last thought is, “Why? Why me? Is there anyone who cares?”
On a dirty street corner in a major city, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of city life, a woman stands alone. She hates herself for what she is about to do, but her ears are still ringing from the cries of her hungry children, and the ominous phone call from her landlord that very morning. She wishes that she could find an honest job, but her previous felonies have resulted in rejection after rejection. She sees the Cadillac turn the corner and slow. She strikes a provocative pose, reveals a bit more skin, and approaches the wealthy man in the driver’s seat. Words are exchanged, and she climbs into the passenger seat. They drive to a cheap hotel. Later that night, her face burning in shame, she trudges wearily homeward to her starving babies. Her soul screams, “Why? Why me? Is there anyone who cares?”
A 12-year-old girl lies crying in a bed in an upscale apartment. Years of abuse by her wealthy father have finally taken their toll. An involuntary shudder racks her body as she hears the front door close. She knows all too well what is coming, the animal-like urges that are surely possessing her father. The pressure in her chest increases, and in a moment of desperation she grabs a knife and draws it across her wrists. As the world around her fades from view, as she is whisked into eternity, her fading mind repeats her life’s mantra: “Why? Why me? Is there anyone who cares?”
This, dear one, is not a work of fiction. These scenarios are playing out in real time even as you read these words. Millions of souls are walking alone, ever looking for someone that is willing to stand and fight beside them. Organizations abound, promising help and shelter. And yet, even these systems are failing and falling apart.
The individuals who decide the fate of the struggling ones, the ones that hold the purse strings, are themselves untouched by the common struggles of the so-called “lower class.” The upper echelons of society sit in gilded seats, lining their pockets, profiting from the struggles of the poor, all while promising change. Wicked men, committing criminal acts at every turn, condemn others to life-long sentences.
Words would fail to recount the endless evil that abounds in our world. We could go on and on regarding pointless wars that are fueled only by greed and money, about systemic racism and oppression in our court system, our jails being full of the unjustly condemned, the unfairly tried. We could recount stories of those that have been abused, raped, tortured, and killed while corporate America and the powers-that-be turn a blind eye, because their place and nation may be compromised should they stand on the side of the oppressed. We could consider the celebrities being maligned, publicly accused and humiliated when they speak the truth or expose the unimaginable darkness that lies hidden around every corner. Sin has truly reached a crescendo, wickedness has fully matured, and by all appearances, the devil is at the height of power.
We think of the words in Revelation 17, speaking of a great harlot, drinking and relishing the taste of abominations and the blood of the saints and martyrs of Jesus. Not only is she guilty of the blood of our brothers and sisters in Christ, but is responsible for all the oppression, bloodshed, and suffering we see on every hand. And we may well cry with all of mankind, “Why? Why us? Is there anyone who cares?”
Who, oh who, will put an end to this long-established reign of darkness? Is there anyone that would stand against the kings of the earth, without fear of repercussions, and tell it like it is? Shall these wicked men, organizations, and corporations be allowed to excel in wickedness, increasing in power and control until we all fall prey to their devices? Must we cower in fear as our lives are torn to bits in front of our very eyes? Will society never again have core values that are righteous? Will our dear children continue to be brainwashed and their thinking hijacked? Must we just admit that we are beaten, and lie down and take this abuse?
Reader, I assure you, these acts, these evil works, each individual hell on earth has not gone unnoticed. There is a righteous God in heaven that sees all, hears all, and knows all. He is the essence of justice, abiding in eternal love for the down-trodden, and eternal hatred for all things evil. There is a book being written, an account indelibly set down by the very finger of Almighty God of every evil idea, thought, and action. Just as Abel’s blood cried from the ground and commanded the attention of God Himself, so the evil, wicked, and vile acts of ages past have come up before Him, and He takes notice. As sin reaches one last final peak, one dramatic finale, so the anger of the Most Holy swells to the point of bursting. Think not that the tarrying of the Lord is due to indifference. Nay, rather, the judgment increases in direct proportion to the wickedness, and it will be sudden, swift, and sure.
“Therefore saith the Lord…Ah, I will ease me of mine adversaries, and avenge me of mine enemies…I will restore thy judges as at the first, and thy counsellors as at the beginning…Zion shall be redeemed with judgment.” Isaiah 1:24-27.
Judges as at the first! Oh, what glorious assurance! Oh, what comforting words! Thank God, the time has come when we again have righteous judges. Our evening time apostles now stand with the burden of an angry God. In their hands, they hold all the judgments of the Most High. In their bosoms burns the righteous indignation, shut up in their bones is the fire of
Jehovah’s wrath. They stand in the authority of the Word of God, and lay judgment to all time. Through the spirit of prophecy, they are able to reconcile the timeline of mankind.
Uncowering, they boldly lay judgment on the tyrannical establishment. As leaders of a militant army, through the preaching of the Word of God, they deal debilitating blows to the satanic powers oppressing the helpless masses. Exposing the long-standing lies, corruption, and deceit, they instead gently cup the downturned faces of the abused in loving hands, guide tear-stained eyes upward, and show the world a better way.
Lest you be concerned that this is yet another attempt bound for failure, be assured this judgment has already reached an unstoppable momentum. Lift up your eyes and look around! The system, long accepted as unshakable, even now is shaken. Trust in the world’s governments is at an all-time low. Never again will they be able to deceive the people into accepting them as the saviours of mankind. Corporations are crumbling at an unprecedented rate, as corrupt business practices come to light. Politicians have become the laughingstock of the common man.
Babylon is fallen and continues to fall! The smoke of her burning increases by the day. And as the kings of the earth stand afar and lament her demise, we turn our eyes to the saviours that have come up on mount Zion (Obadiah 1:21)!
As we prepare for one final battle in this age-old war, our war cries are mingled with shouts of joy, our labored groans mingle with laughter, and a dance creeps in to the orderly march of battle. We will continue to move from victory to victory, our ears attuned for that inevitable sound of the Final Trump of the Lord, when our victorious Leader returns, and we lay down our armour and meet Him in the air! As we ascend to our eternal reward, a backward glance would reveal nothing left of this old world but burning ruins, a final testament to the futility of all the well-laid plans of our old adversary, Satan himself.
Oh, my Lord, hasten that day!