Nick stared around, disoriented.
Just as suddenly as it had started, the vortex of light subsided. Jesus had disappeared. The last thing that he consciously remembered was gazing into His eyes.
He stared down in wonder at the softly glowing, pulsating azure light enveloping him and tried to get his bearings. He seemed to be floating beneath a swiftly flowing current of water, but strangely, he was breathing quite normally. Nick frowned, then let the warm, glowing turquoise liquid run between his fingers. It was molecularly thicker than Earth’s water and had a completely different texture.
Some sort of current seemed to be propelling him very gently downstream.
He wasn’t sure whether he was in a sea, a lake, a river. All he knew for certain was that this was like nothing his senses had ever known. Each part of him felt alive in a way he had never experienced before.
His body seemed to be imbibing minute particles of living light that bubbled around him. Each time the tiny light particles entered his body, the most incredible peace washed through his entire being.
Peace. A wondrous, soothing peace.
Even in his most ecstatic moments on Earth, nothing had come near the intensity of the sheer serenity and freedom he was experiencing now. The heroin and cocaine highs of his youth couldn’t touch whatever this was.
He took another deep breath of the turquoise liquid, his mind racing.
“I’m breathing in water.” He took a second deep breath. Another surge of ecstasy suffused his soul.
“The Rapture.”
And then it happened.
It felt as if a giant hard drive in his brain began to be scrubbed clean. So gently. Every neurotransmitter seemed alive. Thousands of memories began to play as the water in front of him became a virtual screen. He stared at the images moving in front of his eyes and then being erased. He was injecting heroin, sniffing cocaine, fighting with James De Vere. Oh, no! The pantechnicon was speeding toward them. The accident. The worst day of his life. “Lily!” he shouted. Then the image was gone. He held his head. He thought there had been an accident, but the memory of it was totally erased.
The warm liquid surrounded him like a spinning vortex. He was being propelled again at an amazing speed, now passing people who were floating just as he was. Each person he passed had the same expression of serenity.
“Nicholas . . . ” A soft voice echoed through the liquid. He turned to his left.
An incredibly beautiful woman in her late twenties, with soft, flowing black hair and wearing luminous white garments and gold, floated next to him. He took in a breath. Her beauty was, quite literally, breathtaking. She reached out her hand to him. He hesitated; there was something incredibly familiar about her, but he couldn’t quite define what.
She smiled at him with such tenderness that Nick wanted to melt into her arms.
“Don’t you recognize me, my darling Nicholas?”
Nick shook his head, his eyes riveted to her face. Then he opened his mouth in wonder.
“Mother,” he uttered.
Lilian smiled at him “It’s the Waters of Life, Nicholas,” she said softly. “They transform us. By the
time we see Him . . . ” She closed her eyes in ecstasy. “ . . . all of Earth’s sorrows, stresses, and pains have been washed away. These waters remove the scars and memories of earthly life and pain from the souls and minds of all who arrive within these gates.
“Once our souls are healed, our bodies are free to be exchanged for a different type of matter.” She raised her hand to his. “Put your hand in mine.”
Nick’s hand passed straight through Lilian’s. She smiled.
“All these people . . . ” Lilian gestured to the thousands floating downstream past them. They have all been taken up through the Kármán Line. It’s the Rapture, Nick. You were taken in the Rapture.”
“The Rapture—it actually happened.”
Lilian nodded.
A woman in crimson garments floated past them. Her face was literally engulfed with luminous light. As she floated past them blood seemed to be flowing from her neck and hands.
“She’s bleeding . . . ”
Nick reached out his hand as if to touch her. Lilian shook her head.
“It is not her blood, Nicholas, but the blood of the one who laid down his life in the terrible sacrifice.
“The fifth seal has been broken,” whispered Lilian. “These are the ones who loved not their life more than death. The tribulation martyrs are arriving. They have the greatest status in heaven.”
She bowed very low to the one who passed.
“The greatest sacrifice. The greatest privilege of all,” she said softly. “They have laid their lives down. For Him. He awaits these ones now beyond the Rubied Door. They will see His face first. And receive their crowns and flow- ing white robes, then join their brother- and sisterhood across the ages
—other matyrs who were slain for Him —under the colossal carnelian altar. The souls of those who were slain.
“I have to go, my beloved Nicholas. There are many more martyrs arriving. Your father and I are two of the many who have been chosen to assist in this hour.”
“Dad?” Nick frowned. “He didn’t believe.”
Lilian smiled softly. “Oh, but, Nicholas, only the great King Himself hears the voices that cry out to him from their deathbeds. Even the most agnostic cries bring him running to their aid if they genuinely call upon Him. After you have seen your King, you will come and be with us.” She smiled.
“Your father has been longing to see you from the day he arrived. We have so much to share with you.
“Oh, our King has built for us such a glorious house. The emerald grass leads right down to our own beach. The shells are encrusted with living pearls.”
She kissed Nick tenderly on the head. “There is someone else who awaits you. You are much beloved within heaven’s gates. And much beloved by your father and me.”
Lilian vanished beyond his sight, further upstream.
Nick looked down at the riverbed. For the first time, he noticed that it was covered by thousands of gleaming jewels. Or maybe it was because he had floated farther up the river. Nick reached out and picked up a huge, beautiful stone that emitted a crimson light. He studied it, still with an archaeologist’s eye. It looked like a ruby . . . and yet, again, the molecular structure was different.
“Ah! You have chosen wisely, my dear Nicholas.”
Nick looked up from the riverbed to see Jether floating by his side.
“Jether?” He sighed in relief.
Jether’s pale blue eyes twinkled. “In the twinkling of an eye, they shall be changed.”
Jether gently took the ruby from Nick’s hand.
“The jewels in the First Heaven have a completely different structure from those on Earth.”
Nick nodded. “It seems lighter in weight.”
Jether nodded. “Unlike earthly gems, it contains supernatural properties, my boy. Look . . . ”
They both studied the riverbed. Nicholas looked at the ruby in Jether’s hand, then bent down and picked up a nondescript piece of wood, stained with crimson and lying alone on the riverbed.
He grasped it in his palm, his eyes filling with tears.
“There is a strange power in this . . . ” He held it out to Jether. “I don’t know what it means, but it fills my heart with pain.” Nick struggled to breathe. He started to sob wretchedly.
Jether watched him compassionately. “You were drawn to what you hold, because it represents His healing powers. Your soul still bears many scars of the long and painful sickness that you walked through on Earth.
“Even though Christos healed your body, Nicholas, your mind and your soul still bear the scars of the daily struggle with pain and disease—the trauma that is buried so deep in your subconscious. You have been unaware of it, but it has been trapped in your mortal body, affecting much of what you do.
Many people are healed on Earth, but although their physical bodies have recovered, their minds and souls still bear great wounds. Our King who suffered so, physically on the cross, has never forgotten the trauma that caused him to sweat drops of blood in the garden. And that caused him to cry out,
‘Eloi . . . ’
“There is hardly any greater loneliness experienced on Earth than that of those who suffer mentally, who suffer trauma. There is only one who truly understands the depth of what you suffered. There is only one who paid the price to truly set you free. There are those who are healed in their souls on Earth, but many arrive here with their minds and hearts still wounded from earthly struggles.
“That which you hold in your hand—that which you chose—is a great gift to you from your King. It is hewn from the same mountain that the Rubied Doors of the throne room were carved from millennia ago.
“It bears the blood of the great sacrifice, from the carnelian chalice, and contains powerful supernatural properties to heal your soul. Take it and eat.”
Jether held the crimson-stained wood out to Nick, who frowned. “I can’t eat that.”
Jether smiled. “Take and eat.”
Slowly Nick brought the wood to his mouth. As he placed it on his tongue it dissolved into a honeylike substance. He felt a surge of electricity arc from the neurotransmitters in his brain to the soles of his feet. More freedom.
Jether smiled. “You have two more choices. Two more stones to choose. Choose wisely. Take your time. You have all eternity.” Jether smiled tenderly at Nick.
Nick stared down at the mass of colorful jeweled stones by his feet. Slowly he picked up an emerald green stone.
“Ah,” said Jether. “The stone of the shepherd. You have chosen the heavenly emerald. It is the stone of green pastures. It restores your soul. Take it and eat.”
Nick placed the emerald on his tongue. Again, it dissolved. He felt an infusion of comfort, of safety, of immense belonging and peace fill his soul.
He gazed down at the riverbed, drawn to a small glowing aquamarine stone by his feet. He picked it up and studied it. It glowed in his palm, its color transforming to every shade of blue.
Jether watched him intently. “We are nearly at the bank.”
Nicholas tore his gaze away from the glowing stone and looked up. Above the water was a riverbank that stretched for miles. The meadows were greener than those in Ireland.
Nick followed Jether out of the water and onto the bank. The grass sprang up under his feet.
“It’s alive!”
“Of course it’s alive—this is heaven.” Jether studied Nick, now clothed in white garments.
“You are ready, Nicholas. I have been chosen by Yehovah Himself to mentor you,” Jether said
softly. “I mentored Michael, Gabriel, and Lucifer, but never before in the history of the First Heaven has an angelic king been elected to mentor one of the Race of Men. Nicholas, open your hand.”
Nick opened his palm. The beautiful aquamarine stone lay exuding rays of light.
“The stone of the seer.” Jether closed his eyes. “To see God face to face—this is your destiny. You have been chosen.”
Jether pointed a trembling hand over toward Eden. “There is Yehovah’s garden.”
Nick followed Jether’s gaze to a flashing dark cloud of blue lightnings.
“Beyond the cloud, Yehovah walks. Few of the Race of Men, both on earth and even here in the First Heaven, venture beyond the dark cloud. They see Yehovah on His rubied throne, but he has specifically asked for you. To see Him face to face.”
“I can’t,” Nick said, a strange dread gripping his heart. “I’m not worthy.”
Jether gently took his hand. “Only one is worthy, Nicholas. And His sacrifice is enough.”