You cover your nose to quell the stench of stale urine and feces, rotting trash, and decomposing human corpses picked to the bone, and not by animals. You plod wearily around putrid piles of debris, forgotten vehicles, and rusty shopping carts as you transit the remnants of what was once a booming economic center.
A gentle breeze blows tattered, grimy pieces of paper past your feet. A torn, stained Wal-Mart shopping bag drifts along the fractured sidewalk until it snags on some weeds growing out of the cracks in the concrete. Abandoned businesses line both sides of the unkempt thoroughfare, relics of a bygone prosperous era.
A soiled, crumpled copy of a book titled The Post-American World lies in the gutter, its soggy font cover flapping open to expose the faint, smudged lines of an autograph. Barack Hussein Obama. Ironically not the book’s author, but certainly one of the principle authors of its fruition.
What good was free health care when daily supplies became so scarce and prices skyrocketed so high you couldn’t buy groceries without a doctor’s prescription for food? Good luck finding a store left in business that would fill your grocery prescription at all. Stores got sick of waiting weeks for reimbursement through the overburdened insurance system.
Your government-run healthcare insurance was supposed to pay most of your prescription grocery bill, but you could no longer afford the co-pay on even a gallon of milk or a loaf of bread. We haven’t even mentioned gasoline prices and bicycle prices.
People packed into doctors’ offices for chronic starvation. Most of them starved in the waiting room or in the line that wrapped around the block, waiting to get into the waiting room. Doctors and nurses dropped dead of exhaustion. How could this happen in America, the land of plenty, the land of opportunity?
This was not brought about by external enemies. This was the quintessential inside job. The golden boy who promised hope and change had been groomed from his Kenyan roots to be a chief instrument in this diabolical plot. He brought sweeping change with a besom of deceit and made people hope they could afford to feed their kids for a few more days before everyone starved to death. People wondered whether it would be better to starve before the kids did, or let the kids starve before the adults did.
The popular majority got what they voted for. There was never a recovery after the end of 2008. Four years later, 2012, people wanted a savior even more than they did in 2008. They might as well have reelected Satan.
Long before any of us were born, one third of the human family assigned to this earth voted for Satan. In November of 2008, fifty-one percent of American voters made the same asinine move. Disgruntled by the results of their choice, they committed economic suicide in November of 2012, once again defecating where they eat. Insane! Two terms. People really are that stupid.
The damage is irreparable, just as it was intended to be. The aftermath leaves you with a barter system and nothing to barter but your butt in a remnant of society riddled with flaming fags. Thankfully, you retain the moral fortitude to stand against the rampant nature of such unspeakable perversions. That puts you among a scarce few who choose to keep any semblance of a moral compass.
There is no more ammunition for your illegal firearm. You are too weak to use a knife or a bow and arrow. Hide and scrounge or be sodomized in the street and eaten alive be anyone stronger than you who still has teeth in their gums.
Several vagrants mutter unintelligibly from the shadows between broken walls of buildings. Glass shards lie strewn about the sidewalks and pavement, persistent reminders of the earthquakes and lootings of yesteryear. Earthquakes still occur between storms and during storms. Lootings ended when there was nothing left to loot. Today is unusually calm, though the sky hangs heavy, laden with thick, palpable, gritty, grayish brown smog, a mix of both natural and man-made pollutants and fallout.
You can’t recall the last time you saw a stray dog or cat, or for that matter even a rat. You have forgotten how good they taste. It’s been that long. Weeds and roaches are still on the menu, at least for a while. You hope.
Keeping anything down between explosive, ensanguined bouts of diarrhea and fits of stomach hemorrhaging and projectile vomiting poses a bit of a challenge, but somehow, by the grace of God, you are still alive. You mull over whether you should be grateful for life or wish for death. The latter is tempting, but you have a shred of conscience and will to live left in you. Just a shred.
You hear rapid footsteps coming down an intersecting street ahead of you. Puzzled and alarmed, you stop dead in your tracks, petrified with fear. You can’t load your britches because you haven’t eaten for days, but you nearly piss what’s left of your pants when a healthy, muscular, well dressed young fellow rounds the corner and approaches you, smiling from ear to ear. As he draws near, he calls out your full name in the clearest, most distinctive, masculine voice you have ever heard. He greets you with the firmest, friendliest, sincerest handshake you have ever known.
Though you are taken aback, something deep inside your soul leaps in joyous recognition, belying your bewilderment. Who is this guy? Where did he come from? He looks like a million bucks, and he’s genuinely happy. You haven’t seen such joy emanate from a human countenance since, well, ever. You sense that his cheerful demeanor is only the tip of the iceberg, revealing but a wee glimpse of the profound joy that permeates every fiber of his being.
Though you take him for a complete stranger and a bit of a lunatic, he obviously knows exactly who you are, and he is not the least bit offended by your cautious astonishment. He hugs you and slaps your back cheerily as he introduces himself as your grandfather.
Whiskey Tango Foxtrot! Your grandfather? Right. He’s only been dead for decades. You went to his funeral when you were a young teenager. He was crippled and frail and 97 years old when he finally croaked. This strapping young fellow standing in front of you is barely in his twenties, strong and handsome, perfectly groomed and clean shaven, and undeniably straight. He exudes a sound mind, steady resolve, perfect confidence, and a robust sense of moral uprightness. He’s no ghost. He’s solid, sturdy, and very much alive.
His war wounds from the 1940s are gone. Nary a scar. And he has hair. Thick, healthy, well trimmed hair. He might as well have been a famous actor as a wounded, tired, old soldier who withered away and died of cancer and diabetes.
A few minutes later, you glimpse a pretty, young girl in the cutest summer dress walking calmly toward you and this fellow who claims to be your grandpa. This adorable girl can’t be a day over seventeen years old, picture perfect, tidy, modest and well mannered. She is the epitome of purity and grace.
Exuding a seemingly paradoxical combination of childlike innocence and the wisdom of eternity, she is not the least bit afraid or put off by the perilous, sinister, squalid environment that surrounds you. Nor does the fellow seem to feel there is anything capable of harming her, any threat from which he would need to protect her. This evidenced by the fact that he left her a hundred yards behind when he came running to greet you.
You can't help but stare. You catch your breath. Just before you give in to the temptation to develop a full blown crush on the girl, the fellow standing next to you with his arm around your shoulder lights up with a whole new level of youthful exuberance. He smacks the back of your head in good-natured horse play and says, “Grandson, meet the love of my life, my dear, eternal wife, your grandma!”
She curtsies and greets you with the sweetest smile and the most feminine, angelic voice ever to grace your ears. Her radiant beauty tugs tears out of your eyes and evokes tender emotions you never knew the human heart could feel.
Your jaw drops. Hotel...Foxtrot...Sierra! You dare not say that out loud in her presence. Her very being makes you want to clean up your language and be a better man.
Still baffled speechless, your gut tells you these two strangers are not strangers, but are indeed who they claim to be. One nutty, over exuberant guy alone may not entirely convince you, but with this girl as a second witness, you know to the core of your soul what is true, though your mind still has trouble processing the reality of it.
Welcome to your first encounter with resurrected beings. Mark my words; you will be seeing a lot of them in a few decades, so wrap your mind around it now.
On our earth, there have already been millions of people resurrected over the past twenty centuries. But, never once before Earth year AD 34 did such an encounter occur on any planet created by our Celestial Father, Earth included.
A lot of people have been waiting an unimaginably long time to be resurrected. The few centuries our forefathers have to wait seems long to them, but it’s a drop in the bucket compared to how long the inhabitants of many other worlds have been waiting.
Likely, most if not all such people would have been translated or partially quickened similar to the effect bestowed upon John the Beloved and the Three Nephites. Any time after the resurrection of Jesus Christ, such people may be further quickened instantaneously to their resurrected state.
In the case of John the Beloved and the Three Nephites, we know they will tarry in their physical bodies until the return of Christ to our Earth, whereupon their physical bodies will be instantaneously resurrected without ever having to enter the grave.
Understand this. A resurrected body is a physical, tangible body of flesh and bone. It is made immortal and whole, completely healed of all ailments and infirmities.
Easter is the celebration of one of the two greatest events ever to transpire in the history of the entire human family begotten by God, who is our Celestial Father. The resurrection of Jesus Christ is the event being celebrated.
The other momentous event, the birth of Jesus Christ, is of course celebrated as Christmas, every 25th of December. A third grand event, the greatest of all, is the return of Jesus Christ to our Earth in the fullness of his glory. This event is yet to come, but is not far off.
What makes the resurrection of Jesus Christ the most significant event to date? Why could his resurrection be considered more significant than his birth? Jesus Christ is the only member of the entire human family on this earth and every other earth he has created and his Father has populated who was endowed with complete power over life and death, including his own and everyone else’s. While Christ’s birth was obviously significant and prerequisite to his resurrection, his birth did not complete his infinite atonement. His resurrection did.
What is resurrection? There are a lot of misconceptions about this word, even among Christians. Many non-Christians have never even heard the word resurrection, let alone understand what it means. Many confuse resurrection with the false concept of reincarnation.
Reincarnation is one of the biggest lies out there. Many brilliant intellectuals and highly educated scholars and philosophers fall prey to this lie and go so far as to vigorously defend and perpetuate the lie. Doing so makes their station in society a paradox. How can such utter stupidity and unabashed, willful ignorance reign in the highest circles of education? Peer pressure knows no age limit.
Resurrection is the permanent and eternal reuniting of a spirit with its own body. In the process, the body is made immortal and whole. There is no such thing as a maimed resurrected body. The only exception being that Jesus Christ kept the prints of the nails in his hands and feet, and the print of the spear in his side as a tangible testament of his crucifixion.
These prints serve as a means whereby any who meet him can recognize him. The prints of his crucifixion are irrefutable evidence of his divine identity as the Savior, the Messiah, the Redeemer, the Only Begotten Son of the Father in the flesh. When coupled with the undeniable witness of the Holy Ghost that enables you to understand that Jesus Christ is exactly who he says he is, the prints of his wounds further prove beyond any doubt whatsoever that Jesus Christ completed his divine mission to atone for all of his Father’s children, wherever they may be, if they will but accept him.
Only the most jaded, defiant, obdurate individuals would be foolish enough to actually think him an imposter or a failure or incompetent or nonexistent after having had every opportunity presented them to know him. Sadly, many fit such a description, and they do so of their own volition. These resist truth and persist against the whisperings of their deepest conscience. They are embarrassed and even offended by that which is most correct and sensible. They are quick to take offense where no offense is intended.
When Jesus Christ resurrected himself after his body was in the tomb and his spirit was in the spirit world for three and a half days, he became the first of our Heavenly Father’s creations to ever experience resurrection. Christ’s power to effect his own resurrection includes the power to effect the resurrection of every spirit created by our Heavenly Father who has ever been born and who will ever be born into a mortal body. That includes all forms of life, all species. But, we are talking most particularly about human beings, the literal offspring of our Heavenly Father.
We humans, regardless of the countless worlds we inhabit, are unique among all of God’s creations. We are created in his image, male and female. We have the potential to become his equals, gods and goddesses. None of his other creations share this identity and this infinite potential.
Christ’s power of resurrection is not extended to those who have forfeited their right to be born. In other words, birth is prerequisite to resurrection. That much is obvious to anyone with even a rudimentary understanding of the concept. Not so obvious is the fact that resurrection is inevitable and inescapable for all who are born.
Those of whom Christ spoke, saying it would have been better for them if they had never been born, will wish the inevitability of resurrection were not so. They will have willfully and knowingly indulged their life in murderous sin and will have denied Christ and the Holy Ghost who testifies of him. They will have deliberately and persistently and impenitently harmed Christ’s little ones. That is another topic for another article.
The point here is that you do not get to go through your life unrepentant of your sins, refusing to correct and control your thoughts, your feelings, your attitudes, and your behaviors, and then expect a pleasant resurrection. Hence the saying, you reap what you sow.
When you fought for your right to be born, you won the fight through your faith in Jesus Christ, even before Christ himself was born. That took guts.
Those who lost that fight lost their first estate. They cannot ever be born, and thus will never be resurrected. Resurrection naturally requires both a spirit and a body created specifically for that spirit. No birth, no body. No body, no resurrection. It’s that simple.
The fight is far from over. Since the moment of your birth, you entered the battlefield of the continuation of the great pre-mortal war. On this battlefield, you have not won. Not yet, anyway. Regardless of whether or not you win or lose on the battlefield of mortality, you will be resurrected. That’s a freebie from Jesus Christ. You don’t even have to believe in him or like him or follow him. You get resurrected whether you want to or not. Suicide does not exempt you from resurrection. You don’t get out of it.
There is something else you need to understand. You have just as much liberty of spirit and freedom of choice now as you did before you were born. And now, just as then, you can choose to keep yourself free or you can give up your liberty and surrender yourself captive to the enemy of all humanity.
If you lose on the battlefield of mortal life, you will not only fear your death, but you may dread your impending resurrection. If you win on the battlefield of life, your death will be nothing to fear, and you will eagerly await your resurrection.
I’m not talking about winning and losing the way the world thinks of it. This has nothing to do with career advancement, political agendas, competitions, sports, lotteries, or contests of wit and speed and physical strength. This is not about financial success or business ventures or fame and fortune or other such endeavors.
This is about the depths of your mind and heart and soul. It’s about what you feel and think and believe and esteem and dismiss. It’s about how you view and treat others, what you value, what you honor, what you cherish, what you are willing to sacrifice to defend what you know is right and true.
It’s about what and who you forgive or refuse to forgive. It’s about grudges you bear or let go. It’s not so much about trying to avoid offending others. Truth almost always offends error, but truth need not be offended by error. So, more importantly, it’s about you learning to not take offense at what others may or may not think or say or do, or represent. It’s about healing and being healed. It’s about overcoming evil with good.
How do you know if you are winning or losing on this battlefield? I can’t answer that for you. You have to work that out between you and Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. You might start by simply asking God, in the name of his Son, Jesus Christ, where you stand.
Ask him, and then, observe any feelings that come to your heart. Listen and watch for any thoughts, impressions, ideas, or images that come to your mind. Pay attention to the things that begin to happen in your life. Look up. Develop an open mind and a willing spirit. When I say open mind, I mean a mind open to truth not yet familiar to you. Not a mind opened to more deceptions and lies and lascivious or decadent impulses.
Be persistent. Try again. Search some more and try again. If you’ve kept reading this far into this article, then you must have some interest in the welfare of your own soul. So, take courage.
Even some of us conspiracy nuts celebrate Easter.