Desperadoes Waiting For A Train

So I went down this foggy country road and came across this cemetery. I stopped to gaze upon the gravestones and wondered what life was like for each one. Did they understand the mystery of life? Did they understand their fallen condition? Did they understand what the real mission of Christ was? Did they even consider they needed redemption? Did they know anything about a strait gate or a narrow way? Did they understand what Christ meant when He said pick up your cross? Did they just go through life, a hard life, full of hopes, full of dreams that the night shadows stole away?


Did they understand their predicament before a Holy God? Did they understand any of this most greatest of mysteries? Did the winds of the Spirit reach their innermost heart of hearts? I wondered all of this as the gentle breeze moved the fog through this field of dreams gone now. And when the end came for each one, was there anyone who cried for them? Had they been surrounded by family and friends as they took their last breath? Or had they died alone, crossing over with no one weeping?


But as I looked closer at the stones, I noticed something very strange. One said “IBM” another said “Wells Fargo” and yet another “3M” and yet another “CitiBank”, and another, and another all with names of large corporations, middle size and small – it seemed to stretch further and further away into the fog. I came across one that said “Detroit” and then a whole line of cities on each stone, one by one; it seemed they had gone bankrupt or something.


Then I thought I heard the sound of industry, you know the big cats moving, trucks hauling, shouts of men and women all working hard. The great sounds of industry, but then they began to fade away, slowly at first, and then I heard cries of desperation, of hunger, of the sounds of little children begging their moms and dads for food, of weeping, of sadness, but it seemed that something must have happened, something had gone wrong here.

It was then I noticed another stone and it said “Forgot God” and then another that said “Drought”. Yet another said “Chaos and Revolution”. Then one said “Ruler against Ruler, Implosion”. What a strange vision of the future of America – was this a vision I was seeing? I walked further into the mists of now the future of America, looking for more clues. I found yet another stone that said “Mad Upon Their Idols” and yet another “Refused to Listen” and then another that said “Corruption & Evil”. A picture was now beginning to emerge – the people had turned their backs upon the Creator, they forgot He was there. So I looked further into the mists of the future – I now began to understand, the Creator brought massive judgment upon America – the last stone I found said “Attacked and Destroyed”.
I turned back and as I moved through this field of dreams gone now and I saw a little head stone – Sally Jean – Age 2, 1925-1927. Had her mother wept or was she an orphan? I wondered did the mercy of God and His love for children take her home? Is she now in His arms for eternity? I thought so, I hoped so with all my heart, but wondered anyway. Does any of this make any sense at all? Does life itself make any sense? Not without the Love of Christ…
I then looked down and there was a little plot stone and it said Baby Sally – 10 days Old. How sad, and I wept. Why don’t people see? Why cannot they understand?
I heard a gentle voice in the wind – “They are all fallen, fallen; Babylon has fallen, fallen, and has become the habitation of devils…” It faded away.
So I walked out of this place and in the gentle breeze I heard weeping and then I heard a child laughing. Sally Jean – I knew it was Sally Jean – she was OK. My heart leapt a bit – thank you Lord, I muttered.
As I turned once again to look at the cemetery, I noticed the sign over it and it said “Here lies the body of the United States”. So this was a portrait of something engraved on tombstones, sort of like the western Tombstone. Or a Clint Eastwood type of movie – a most odd vision, I thought.

So I turned and continued down this pathway called HOPE DELAYED, and wondered what I would come across next. I head more children laughing up ahead in the fog. As I came around the bend the mist lifted a bit and I saw all of these little children playing in a beautiful playground. It seemed that a shaft of Sunlight was piercing the mist – but there was something wrong here – for I could see these children but just barely, like they were sort of ghosts or something, I could see them but I could see through them as well. What was this place, I wondered. There were so many of them. One of the little girls came over to where I was and looked at me.
“Who are you?” I asked
“Future children who died in World War III” she said. She looked down and shuffled her feet. Tears came to my eyes – “What do you mean Future Children?” I asked.
“We are the children that our moms and dads killed because they would not stop the leaders of the world from starting World War Three, we are millions, you know…” All of you murdered us, because you would not rise up and stop the rich men, your rulers. You could have stopped them you could have rounded them up you could have stopped all of it but you would not….”

She paused… “They were so few and you were so many, you could have risen up, you could have stopped it… you stole our future on Earth – but it is OK, we are now with the Lord, and it is all OK, just thought your should know…” She ran back to play and then they all faded from view. I could still hear the laughter in the distance but it faded away.

I knew in my heart she was right. She was totally right. Why had we put up with all of this criminal activity and treason from our leaders and the rich men of the world? We were billions, they were hundreds, why did we not simply rise up and stop all of it? We could have rounded them all up and put them into the FEMA Camps they had planned for us. It would have been so easy to stop all of it.


Who could argue with that…it was all of us that let our leaders do what they did, and they could have been stopped, but no one had the courage to rise up and stop them. No one.
So I continued on and saw this small church and so I stopped in to see what was happening at the congregation of the dead, although they all thought they were really alive and well. I slid into the back pew and listened to the preacher man as he spoke of how God wants everyone to be wealthy and that if people would give more, they would get more. On and on he went. I noticed most of the people were very attentive but poorly dressed. I did not hear anything about salvation, or what it was, or what it meant…


Maybe this and the cemetery vision are connected, I thought. It might be. So I listened as the people prayed. One woman said she needed a new refrigerator and another mentioned a new stove, still another, a new car. There was one older man who was in old clothing with holes in them and he prayed just for a job. He said he needed work to feed his wife and kids and could not seem to find any work. No one of those in the church there offered to help him. I wondered if the Lord would answer that heartfelt prayer or maybe not the others – but you never do know with all of this prosperity teaching going on these days. The Lord wants us rich, they say, super rich, but I don’t believe it – what the Lord wants is repentance, not giving you wealth – He will sustain you if you trust Him but not at all like these fakes preach. Oh well…

So anyhow I sat there and listened for a while and then left – wondering what has happened to Christianity now – did not seem at all like the early church. It was then that I woke up in a sweat…