The story really starts several years ago when an adventurous and juvenile enthusiasm prompted me to leave home, determined to explore the appealing outside world. The idea arose from a fragile combination of pleasant memories and the inconsolable assimilation of a decadent view: buildings collapsing throughout the city upon the trivial ingenuity of their inhabitants, silent avenues as if in complicity with the impassivity of pedestrians and the monotonous synchronization of their gaits, the hazy silhouette of a distant bell tower growing older in the bowels of oblivion, inactive, a perennial muted witness. The panorama was daunting and the future uncertain. Only the warm ocean’s breeze felt friendly like an invitation to hope. Closing my eyes, with a handful of dreams and nothing to watch but myself, I sailed against the wind. That is when my journey began.

Safely, I reached my destiny, but after a short period of struggle, I came to realize the magnitude of my misconception – life was still difficult. Even so, my young and optimistic spirit insisted that I keep trying, so I remained wandering through that desert of hopes. A few years later, I found myself still far from home – at a point of no return with none of my dreams accomplished. My only attainment was that uncomfortable tendency to obliterate my sense of loneliness by seeking refuge behind alcohol. I should admit that, in retrospect, I can see that the loneliness I felt then was just the emotional reflection of my inability to fulfill my dreams. So, the more I drank, in an attempt to forget the faultiness of my illusory commitments, the more I immersed myself in the tangled mess of my unsolved problems. As a result, twelve years of my life disappeared, with nothing to be proud of. On top of this, I got involved in a continuous stream of minor incidents, ranging from traffic violations to alcohol-related charges. I was unconsciously wrecking my life.

Despite all of this, there came a period during which I would sometimes rejoice in my fortune since, for about two years, I continued to drive without my license and had no encounters with the law. I justified it to myself by saying that I needed to drive in order to go to work, which was important enough to take the risk. The only inconvenience was that unpleasant feeling behind the wheel because a warrant had pended for my arrest – I had failed to appear to a court. Six months in custody was my presumable sentence, so I decided to hide as my best choice. In fact, I just changed my address, but the situation was exhausting. Every time I drove by a police car, my heart raced with my emotions and always, after these uncomfortable encounters, I thought to turn myself in, but the fear of having to make a new beginning kept me from doing it. I did not want to lose the small construction business that I had built with so much effort. “Why do I have to lose everything again?” I would ask myself this question constantly, having nobody to take care of my belongings while I did my time in custody. The more I thought about it, the more I was inclined to drink.

During the last month before they finally arrested me, my life went out of control. I predicted an imminent debacle, but I was uncertain if it would be for better or for worse. The lifestyle that I had created around me set the limitations of my environment. I was trapped. People close to me were subjected to the same moral codes; they were like me without a clear perspective, and I tried to blame them for my situation. Later I realized that the problem was not my environment but myself.

In the last week, I spent two nights in my car crying to God for an urgent solution. He heard my request because, almost immediately, I went to live with a wonderful Christian family, and I praised Him for His help.

At the time, my spiritual life had grown considerably. Months before, I did not believe in the existence of such a good God, as I looked at all of the suffering in the world. I doubted that anything outside the human capabilities could make any considerable change in a person’s life, and the point of reference was my own. However, after studying several cultures, doctrines, and advanced theories about the complexities of human behavior, I finally accepted the existence of a superior being in control of the forces governing the universe – the same being that was helping me then.

But the apparition of that police cruiser behind my car that morning – even without me drinking or doing anything wrong – provoked in me such indignation that a rush of conflicting ideas began to darken my reasoning. Soon, my flickering faith revived my doubts about the real existence of a mighty and compassionate God. Why was He denying me another opportunity? The idea obfuscated my mind so drastically that I felt forced to blaspheme. Unexpectedly, something stronger within me drenched my whole body with peace, and in seconds, I surrendered to whatever the outcome would be. I could not explain how it happened, but at last, I was in peace. At least I no longer had to worry about hiding, and that thought helped serenity to prevail within me.

Minutes later, as the police vehicle moved ahead through the busy streets, and the officer drove in silence, my mind focused on an internal conversation with God. I asked Him to forgive me for the loathsome thoughts that had deplorably invaded my mind minutes before, and I gave Him a submissive explanation about why I had reacted in such a way. I told God that, if He helped me to understand why life was so difficult, I would totally consecrate my life to Him. I beseeched Him to grant me wisdom, so I could prudently cope with the vicissitudes linked to my destiny, and eventually redirect my life. I had so many questions to ask Him that I did not hesitate. Why do persons of unquestionable behavior sometimes become victims of undesirable circumstances? Why are people nowadays developing an irrepressible tendency to challenge the faith of Christians and believers in general? Why if you, Lord, are in control, does the Devil do as he pleases? Who goes to Heaven and who goes to Hell? And, among others, the biggest question I ever had since the first time I heard about it: Who really is the Antichrist, the beast, and what is the meaning of 666? By the time I had finished with my inquiries, the police cruiser had already reached the precinct, and the squeak of the rolling gates brought me back to the physical world. There, in front of me, was the unavoidable view of my new sanctuary – Dekalb County Jail.

Minutes later, with a guard closely following me, I walked through the intake lobby searching for any clues or signs that might convey the answer to my request. I knew that God responds to us in many ways, but I also knew that sometimes His answers take longer than what we expect and sometimes He simply just does not answer. Amazingly, about two hours later, His response, or at least an indication that He had heard my petition, appeared. I am not a superstitious person, but I believe in divine signs, especially when God wants to communicate with His people.

The sign came while they processed my fingerprints in the booking area. After they took a few pictures of me, they assigned me an identification code. This number was printed on a wristband that I would carry on my left arm for as long as I stayed in custody. Each prisoner had a different number, and mine was distinctively allusive. The number on my left arm was 333666. It really impressed me, and I recognized this seeming coincidence as a divine sign. I knew from experience that some people associate the number 33 with Jesus – for the number of years he lived on earth. Furthermore, I also learned from reading the Bible that 666 represents the mark of the beast – evil. Another significant number on my bracelet was 111, indicating my cell and bunk. Coincidentally, since my childhood, the numbers 11 or 111 were my lucky numbers. This was enough to convince me that God had heard my earnest supplication and would give me the answers I was seeking.

After three days in a holding cell, they transferred me to the segregation area. There, I would stay in a 9 x 12 feet cell, locked down three times a day for around twelve hours total. Although the cell’s design provided housing for two inmates at the time, I enjoyed the temporary privilege of staying alone, what I took as a blessing, as I desired spiritual isolation as well. The room was clean. Two Christian books – probably a present from the last visitor, lay on a metal table that was attached to the wall. I would have preferred a Bible, but at least I had something to leaf through, I thought. I picked one of the books and started reading an interesting story. It was about a couple who, before converting to Christianity, initiated their study of the scriptures with the unique intention of finding contradictions. They searched for chronological mistakes, errors of genealogies, or anything that could help them to prove that the Bible was only a shrewd compilation of ancient stories and myths – a mere conception of humans. Amazingly, as they advanced in their research, they fell in love with the Bible and eventually became Christians. They explained how their conversion had occurred, but they did not mention any findings to support their initial purpose of discrediting the Bible.

Later, while I pondered the story, I remembered, that during my last time in custody, a man at a Bible study group had mentioned a contradiction that he had detected in the scriptures. He could not understand how Cain had found a woman, a wife, out of nowhere, “And Cain knew his wife; and she conceived, and bore Enoch” (Genesis 4:17). The man said that there was no evidence in the Bible indicating the existence of other people than Cain and his parents, since he had killed his brother Abel. Moreover, the man also explained that Cain had said to God “that everyone that findeth me shall slay me” (Genesis 4:14). But, “how could Cain have possibly been afraid of other people”, the man had asked, “if only he and his parents inhabited the earth at the time?” I remember thinking about it and replying to the man at the study group with a logical explanation. I told him that even if the Bible does not mention the existence of other people, it is possible to assume that Cain was talking about some time in the distant future. He could have been anticipating the coming of future generations. I also told him that his wife could have been one of his sisters. In that time, intimate relations between close relatives was common, due to the scarcity of people. Putting these two incidents together, the couple converted in the book and this man at the Bible study group from my prior incarceration, I wondered why people sometimes tried to find flaws in what is widely established. After doing a serious analysis about this type of behavior, I arrived at the honest conclusion that people usually do this in an effort to attract attention. I observed that this is a psychological problem caused by a feeling of insecurity deeply entrenched in their personalities.

Later, after doing a more exhaustive analysis, I arrived at another conclusion. I determined that, if a person carries out this type of investigation with the sincere purpose of gaining knowledge, as opposed to criticizing the Bible…

Visit our website to read the rest of the book.

Author Bio: www.zondervansfall.com

Category: Religion
Keywords: Antichrist,end times, prophecy, christianity, 2012,