TEOTWAWKI on Friday the 13th, 2020
The loud crack of thunder jarred me out of a deep sleep at 5:00 am this morning, March 19. Lightning flashes danced around the sky. I wondered if any of them hit our transformer. As I peered out the window, I spotted our outdoor security lights shining and was grateful the electricity was still on. Rumbling through quickly, the predicted thunderstorm rushed on to awaken other families from their slumber. Nineteen minutes later, the crickets chirped their morning songs, and the TEOTWAWKI thoughts I laid aside when I went to bed barged their way into my mind.
For those who do not travel in preparedness circles, a definition is in order. TEOTWAWKI:
TEOTWAWKI has altered life countless times throughout history. In my parents’ lifetime, the Dustbowl, Great Depression and World War 2 brought TEOTWAWKI. The most recent example hit on September 11, 2001.
Last Friday’s presidential press conference transformed Americans’ world. Actually, it altered the whole world. It was as big as 911—maybe bigger—which bestowed the gift of the Patriot Act and all its modifications to our lives.
We don’t yet know the upshot of the Coronavirus Pandemic but without question, it shook our Normalcy Bias to the core. I make a prediction: Government officials will institute some draconian measures in the name of preventing deaths from the virus. But these will never be completely rolled back. The world as we knew it in the U.S. doesn’t exist now.
Al and I live seventeen miles from the nearest large town, Ada, Oklahoma. We ventured out from our rural home to run a few errands yesterday. Everywhere I went—to the insurance agency to pay our auto insurance premium, to the grocery store to pick up a few items (which weren’t on the shelves), to the quilt store where ladies drop off their sewing machines for Al to repair—the conversation was about the craziness of our now-reality. Everyone has a sense that nothing will be the same again.
Its impact hit me when I walked into our local Walmart last Monday and saw bare fixtures where toilet paper, tissues, and paper towels were crammed mere days before. Aisle after aisle—empty. Not only paper goods, but eggs, lunch meat, pasta, cereal, milk and other staples—gone. On TV, I’ve seen stores in other states with empty shelves. Florida usually has a long lead-time before hurricanes hit their shores, and folks pile their grocery carts high in advance. In Oklahoma we get an occasional ice storm prediction that sends folks scurrying for milk and bread to hunker down for two or three days. Ice doesn’t last very long in the southern part of our state, so we don’t usually pick a supermarket clean in preparation. Tornadoes don’t give enough warning to run to the store for bread.
So row after row of bare shelves and aisles was sobering.
For those of us who are mindful of biblical end-times, we can’t help but think this situation may be a precursor to prophecies just out of sight. In my opinion, this is a practice run to the real deal. There may be a few more incidents like this one before we are lured into the tight places others are trying to corral us.
Rabbis in Israel believe we are in the birth pangs of Messiah time frame. I agree with them.
Fortunately, God provided a guide book on how to walk this out. Maybe this is a good time to become better friends with Daniel, Isaiah, Ezekiel, and their fellow prophets. Don’t forget the Revelation of Yeshua.
Tom Horn, CEO of Defender Publishing in Missouri, wrote a book titled The Wormwood Prophecy, which came out a couple of months ago. He did not put it out through his own publishing house. Charisma House Publishing, a sister company of Charisma Magazine, printed it. You can find it here, if you want to buy it.
People from several ministries have interviewed Tom about this book. You can find some of these programs on YouTube. Just type in “Tom Horn Wormwood Prophecy.”
As Tom tells it, the gist of the book recounts a dream/vision he had in January 2018 about an asteroid’s hitting the earth. He awoke and felt strongly it was from the Lord. As he rolled out of bed and began writing, he heard one word, “Apophis.” Doing research, he discovered an asteroid which NASA has been tracking for a few years. What is it called? Apophis, named after the ancient Egyptian god of chaos.
Has anyone ever asked why we name heavenly bodies after pagan gods?
NASA recognizes there are many factors that could change its course and trajectory. But its officials predict this asteroid will strike in the Pacific Ocean just off the west coast of California on April 13, 2029—ironically, Friday the 13th. It is the day before Passover on the calendar, which is sometimes off by a day or two according to the cycle of the moon. It is possible Passover will be the 13th.
As an aside, Tom has discovered many of the prophetic revelations given to him occur on biblical festivals. He is a former Assemblies of God minister, not a Messianic believer. He does not observe the festivals, but he cannot deny he is intrigued about how they pop up at the oddest times.
I scheduled today’s blog post to be about organic farms in Jordan, but I couldn’t bring myself to finish writing after I completed the research. As fascinating as they are, the irrigated green polka dots of produce in the Wadi Rum wilderness cannot compete with COVID-19 in today’s headlines.
I am mostly self-quarantining this week, having been laid off from my job as office manager for a local transport company. In twenty minutes I am going to set off on a five-mile trek on a pock-marked road that calls itself a highway to a nearby tiny town. A dollar store recently opened there, and we need a few things.
Dollar General instituted a new policy to allot the first hour they are open to the elderly so they (we) aren’t exposed to the general public’s germs. I say, it’s jolly decent of them to help us that way. I know the supply truck comes in this morning, so I hope to snag a package of toilet paper. What we have on hand will last until sometime in May, but who knows how long this situation will continue? I’ll only buy one. There are other ways to clean one’s bottom if we run out.
It may come as a shock to our first-world system to hear that 70 percent of those living on the planet don’t use toilet paper.
Al and I spend quite a bit of time isolated on our five-acre rural property dubbed “The Five.” It is not a hardship for us to be quarantined. We delight in solitude.
We will miss observing Passover with our children and grandchildren this year. We have all decided to stay put rather than making the four-hour drive to be together. Most likely, we will meet a month later since the Bible gives an option to celebrate then if it is impossible to do so on the actual date. Who knows what will happen by the first of May?
I will finish my blog on organic farms in Jordan and post it in a few days. In the meantime, here are links to a couple of videos from a British woman who married a Jordanian and blogs about her life in Amman. She posted two videos recently about what is happening there in this new viral reality. See them here https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cr0qQRqv5oE and here https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bwMAWgYXUAM
Just got back from Dollar General. The manager met me at the door warning, “The first hour is reserved for seniors to shop.”
“I qualify,” I assured her. She made my day.
Immediately, I inquired if there was any toilet paper. “A few rolls in the back.” She gestured vaguely in that direction.
I bee-lined for the treasure and read the sign “Limit 3 packages.” What could I do? I placed three plastic-wrapped bundles in my basket. Thirty minutes later and sixty dollars lighter, I rolled my cart out to the car, confident we can wash clothes, sanitize with Lysol, eat well, and add to our small reserve of paper towels and toilet paper for the duration. We shouldn’t have to leave The Five for at least a month.
Yesterday when we were in Ada, I paid a visit to Aldi grocery store. As I pushed my cart to the produce section to buy the Wednesday special, 89-cent cantaloupe, I caught the eye of a young women perusing the cheese selection. Noticing my advanced age, she said, “Take care out there.”
I laughed wickedly and tossed my hair. Speaking loudly enough to be heard at the front check-out lines, I said, “This is a scam. I’m not afraid. Ask yourself the question, ‘Who is benefiting from this scare?’ Follow the money and follow the power over people.”
She stared as though I was in the throes of dementia.
Since October 1, 2019, until today, the CDC stats say 22,000 people and maybe as high as 59,000 have died in the States from the seasonal flu. It was dubbed “the worst flu season in a decade.” Where was the uproar? Where was the government imposition of martial law? Why didn’t someone close the schools? Ninety-six children died nationwide.
Why the pandemonium now? Shall we wreck the country’s economy to save a minute portion of the population? What about those who will die from the effects of financial ruin?
“The few can only enslave billions if the billions acquiesce. Through fear, billions are acquiescing to the few.”David Icke
And that is what I leave with you. I am not saying this virus is not dangerous. I simply wonder at the swiftness of the demise of our way of life.
If you are afraid, listen to this.
Postscript: This afternoon as I was trying to post this blog, stormy weather kept knocking out the electricity. My poor computer didn’t know whether it was coming or going. I looked out the back window toward the east to see if there was a storm, and all I saw was blue skies smilin’ at me.
I opened the front door, and the western sky was a solid angry black cloud bank moving quickly toward us. Before long, it engulfed us with pounding rain and raging wind. It was a metaphor for the time we are in. Look one direction, and everything looks normal. Look the other way, it’s menacing and frightening.
 https://www.cdc.gov/flu/about/burden/preliminary-in-season-estimates.htm Referenced 03/24/2020