Grace in the Arts: The Coronation Of The King An Annotated Work of Fiction Part 2 -- By: Frank D. Carmical
JOTGES 3:1 (Spring 90) p. 55
Grace in the Arts:
The Coronation Of The King
An Annotated Work of Fiction
Harvester Ministries, Inc. Piano, Texas
And from the time that the daily sacrifice is taken away, and the abomination of desolation is set up, there shall be one thousand two hundred and ninety days. Blessed is he who waits, and comes to the one thousand three hundred and thirty-five days.1
The forty-five days following the return of King Jesus to earth had seen the defeat of the world’s armies, the overthrow of the world empire of the Beast, the rescue of friends, the capture of foes, and the cleansing and healing of a planet reduced to smoldering ruins by judgments and wars both terrestrial and supernatural.2
As the final hours ticked away, the last preparations were being made to re-establish the Kingdom of God on earth. Three solemn, televised-to-the-whole-world ceremonies would mark this occasion: the judgment of the Earth-Dwellers (resulting in punishment of the Beast-worshipers and the reward of those who aided the people of Israel during the brief reign of the Beast), the inauguration of a new ruling aristocracy (the former mortal, now immortal saints of history) over the governments of
JOTGES 3:1 (Spring 90) p. 56
the world, and the climax of history itself, the coronation of the Lord Jesus Christ as King of kings and Lord of lords over all nations of the Earth.
Rudy, a member of the aristocracy, was assigned part of the final worldwide inspections for this historic occasion. Rudy took time during the last day of his hectic schedule to take along a friend named Joe. Also a member of the body of Christ and a recipient of eternal life, Joe had lost his rewards at the Judgment Seat of Christ3 for preaching a different Gospel4 and was confined to the dismal region of the Zone of Darkness5 at the South Pole for the next one thousand years.
The sun shone high and hot over the bombed-out city as the inmate from the refugee camp was running for his life. His camp jumpsuit torn and splattered with his own blood, the man darted around massive slabs of concrete and ducked under steel girders that had been mangled like coathangers by nuclear blasts. He dared not stop even to catch his breath....
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