Last night as I went to bed, I prayed the Lord would show me something to write about.
When I woke at 6:15, I was surprised to realize I had been sleeping, the dream was so real.
In my dream, I contemplated writing a short story. The story would be about American refugees after World War III. First, I decided I would not call it WWIII. Instead, I called it “Satan’s War”, a title I first used spontaneously in a recent video title.
Then, here is the story line covered in the dream:
In Africa, the African people (West Coast of Africa) accept refugees. They say, “We need infrastructure. We don’t have all the skills and educated professionals to manage this. Your people will do this.”
There is a conversation among the people of the western african continent, along the coastal areas. They say, “They once enslaved our people. But, let us not be like that. Though they must work, we will not enslave them.”
So, the whites from North America all work building an infrastructure in Africa. They build dams and roads, electric power stations and sewer treatment plans. But, they also receive homes and a livable wage.
South America, though, forms militias. To cross the border fence into Mexico is tantamount to suicide, at first. The Mexican army, supplemented with volunteers (opportunist mercenaries, really) from South America which nearly triple their size, kill any men who cross south.
Eventually, well-armed and organized groups from the north establish a front south of the border fence. Now, people can cross the wall. Groups form up and attempt to make it to South America. They don’t want to remain in Mexico, but to get to South American countries like Brazil.
One large group heads out. They are on foot. A large militia group of South Americans stops them.
“We can kill all of you,” they say. “But, give us the twenty prettiest women, and we will let you go.”
The camp from the north contemplates the offer and decides that, no matter how terrible it is, it is better than just getting slaughtered. As the conclude to agree to the terms, the militia return with a new requirement.
“You must line up the women in full view of us. That is the only way we will know you have truly looked at all the women.”
Once the women are in a line amongst the tents, the negotiation and scouting party sends two men back to the main militia camp.
“They have many pretty young women, and none are fat. We should take them all.”
So, as the North Americans stand trying to decide on twenty women, the militia breaches their limited barriers and begins killing every man they see and anyone who fights.
End of dream.
I prayed about this. This is NOT what is going to happen to us Americans. But, He wants me to write this short story to make people realize and think, “If we don’t have God to save us, if we don’t save our nation, we will be at the mercy of other peoples.”
It is better to be at God’s mercy than man’s.