I became interested in the topic of my new novel, Nimrod Rising, when I returned back to the United States in 1995 to live here after having lived abroad for over 17 years. America had changed so much and the values the nation had cherished seemed to have disappeared to a great extent. One night, back in 1995, I remember so well, I sat down and started writing out of a consuming need to research and describe what had come about in America to provoke the change I saw. In short, the result of hours and 12 years of work was possibly the most powerful book you may well ever read, Nimrod Rising.
Nimrod Rising is a work of fiction based on truth. No one knows what the terms, 666 or Antichrist really mean. We can only put together what seems historically and biblically logical. Nimrod Rising is not a Christian novel, but does declare its premise to be based on what I believe to be truth in the Bible. It is scary, not so much for its content as because it is such a timely and realistic story. I do not write material for the purpose of making people afraid. I like to think that I tell the truth and the truth scars them. All the background about Nimrod is true and factual as well as the scenarios of war.
We are more than mere accidents on this tiny planet. I think anyone who feels that they want to know more about why they are here and the inquisitive soul who loves history and whose imagination needs stimulus and challenge will love this book. Also, readers who have suffered things for which they may never have an answer could find a few very helpful explanations about the things we cannot explain. I myself am one of those. I think it is important that young adults read Nimrod Rising. Today, our children, the heritage of our race as humans, are being taught how to have sex, encouraged to engage in things concerning sexuality and to accept things that once were held as categorically wrong. Those taught in such an atmosphere need to see what may be the motivations of those who teach as right that which was once held as completely abhorred. Nimrod Rising will cause you to pose those questions that we never pose to ourselves without such a challenge.
Read Nimrod Rising - Unsought Gifts Part One aand watch as Alex Meafield gives himself over to Perdition's beckon call. It's as real as it gets!
Nimrod Rising - Unsought Gifts Part One
1995
The weather was scorching in Islamabad. As the parade of terrorists unfolded down the street, Alex Maefield worked alongside his teammates very carefully distributing their literature to any who cared to take it. Everyone seemed to be in a trance. All the faithful seemed to take no notice of the piece of Elyon’s Word that they had taken and thrown to the ground. They all seemed more enthralled by the huge photos of their hero and rising murderous star, Osama Ben Laden training his teams of terrorists across the border in Afghanistan, and historic national father, Mohammed Ali Jenna, the founder of the nation of Pakistan. These photos were carried down the street by the black-hooded parade of Jihadists who represented the militant form of Islam that was festering and growing throughout the country and the whole Muslim world.
Alex had the strongest urge to jump in front of the line with them and lead them into every corner of the globe! He knew that out of the remnants present in this show of Wahabi Muslim fervor would come a force that would have as its very public but completely ignored goal the destruction of the Western World! The true face of terror was to destroy the person of Elyon and remove the Watcher of Elyon set to guard the tree of life so that the Master could enter in. It would mean the black-hooded face of terror would have to be spread throughout the entire world. There could be no more Geneva Conventions! It would be survival and the supposed “temporary” lifting of certain rights for the sake of success! This force would eventually build its web of underground tunnels, and cells to breed its haters of Elyon like evil germs dividing and expanding its network right under the nose of a pacified society. A son would lead the Swarm and unite and implant it to do the Master’s terror at will. A father would eventually tear it apart.
Alex heard a jet plane flying low overhead. He looked up and saw a 757 flying into a tall building close to the parade. The explosion made the skin on Alex’s face wave back and forth. He fell to the ground and screamed. He could see the face of Lucia in the flames leaping from the two towers that tumbled to the ground.
“Everyone, GET DOWN!” Alex Screamed.
Alex looked up and saw the ground open up. He saw human-like things flowing out of the cracks in the ground created by the falling towers. They wore turbans for crowns, had long flowing hair like that of women and wore the bearded faces of men. Across their chests were jackets of C4 and wires and the determination to die for their Master! They poured out of the cracks like a supernatural infestation of locusts, and no one else could see them! They all looked in Alex Maefield’s direction and bowed to the ground chanting,
“The prophet is with us, the Peygamber has come!”
They would spread out and gather together, plan and await their day to be released to induce a torment that could never be completely eradicated in the future, a future which was flashing before Alex’s eyes, as he lay flat on his back on the ground! Alex opened his eyes and saw the parade going forward. His teammates who were close by had seen Alex fall and heard him scream. He looked up and saw them, as well as the parade going forward as it had been before he saw the crash. Only he himself had felt it! Alex stood up and tried to get his bearings. He was getting used to all of these weird things going on in his head. He walked along the parade line. He came up to an area where there were many different types of Army hardware on display in the parade. Alex looked at a tank that had been purchased from an international arms dealer who only dealt in Israeli things that went “boom!”
He watched the tanks all in formation, and then one of them left the line, and then another, and another, until they were all pointed in different directions. Alex heard the shells being loaded into the massive chambers. He saw the tanks apply their brakes; they then fired in every direction and, within seconds, the city turned to rubble! Again Alex screamed and covered his face. He slowly removed his hand from his face. He lifted his head and the muted sounds all around him suddenly came to life. He saw tanks, again in formation, traveling along the parade route. Two of his teammates again saw Alex as he was seeing something that no one else could see. One of them was Sally Michael. Alex walked back to the base. He had to get some time to figure it all out. He needed information…
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Nimrod Rising! - Is This Really The World You Knew As A Child
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News had spread fast in the seemingly technologically-advanced grapevine that was the Vineyard. They had heard that Alex had received the gift of the laying on of hands.
“Alex could heal and the spirit of the Apostle Paul was upon him!” people were saying.
Several were impressed and admired Alex, but most of the team members were afraid of him and insisted that he was possessed with the devil. Alex agreed with the last opinion. As far as Alex was concerned, it all gave him a massive headache, and he knew that whatever it was that had given him these powers, it was not from Elyon. Alex had a serious case of confusion and depression that frightened him. A certain part of it all had challenged and energized him by his sudden endowment of miraculous powers. The other part of him felt dirty and apostate. Alex knew that what he had seen and the way he had exercised the gift of healing was more than a spiritual gift. It came from Alex himself! Alex had produced it! He had seen into the spiritual world, which was operating within a new hidden world about to be revealed! Deep inside Alex Maefield’s heart, he knew he had not received anything that he had not already possessed. Abaddon was simply bringing out of him what had simply been latent within him since birth, wherever that had been.
“My faith! There’s something exciting about leaving everything behind! Faith?” Alex thought. “In whom shall I believe? Myself? Was it not me and from within me that these things were done?”
He believed in Elyon wholeheartedly, but a certain voice in a certain corner of his mind, and in the corner of his right eye, questioned and made him wonder who this Elyon was.
“Don’t worry, my peygamber, the Master believes in Elyon too and hates him.” Abaddon declared behind Alex’s eye.
Was Elyon someone who would let the masses starve and decay while having the power to change it? Was He this evil thing stuck in Alex’s eye? Something made Alex know that even in the midst of the fear that had invaded his mind, somehow everything was exactly as it was supposed to be. He was supposed to have done the things that had transpired on the way to Islamabad. Who cared how they were done? A dead man was alive now! A man’s family will eat another day because his horse could walk again!
“How could it not be of Elyon?”
Of course he would be told that he was rationalizing, and, of course, he was.
“Is it really who I am?” Alex reflected.
Alex had always overcome doubt by believing that working for Elyon in the midst of insult and skepticism was the true exercise of his faith. Not now. This time it was his own voice. It was his own mind that was plagued by fear and trembling and he wouldn’t have it any other way! How could he argue with himself or with that thing that kept on popping up in the corner of his right eye? He had always had that neatly tucked away fear. Perhaps one day, after having maligned other faiths and persuading many to come to Christ, he would wake up in the midst of an angry Elyon with Mohammed’s hands stretched around his throat forebodingly glaring down on him! Alex had consistently fought off his latent, yet natural inclination to think intellectually. There was that voice that always said, “You can’t know for sure.”
He now wondered if that voice had not been Abaddon all along. “You have to believe like a little child!” Alex always told himself.
Yet, even as a little child, Alex never believed easily. He was not exactly a doubting Thomas. He was pragmatist. He was logical, though he had taught himself not to be. He had learned to believe, but he had always had a somehow inert knowledge of where the world was ultimately headed. The thing had all gone wrong in the world and it was heading toward the Master. He had worked at it! Alex had learned to put logical reason so far away from him that even now it seemed easier for him to say that he had had it all wrong than to believe that this was an attack from Satan. That would be far too reasonable!
“This was an attack from the evil one!” Alex thought briefly.
“Was there really an evil one down there? Was this thing stuck in the corner of his right eye really there? Could an evil one do good unto others?” as Alex had been allowed to do today.
“Was it possible,” as Abaddon had said, “That there was a divine creature embodying both good and evil?”
Right now, that proposition made more sense to Alex than the Judeo-Christian Elyon at war with a created egotistical fallen cherub.
“Man does both good and evil. Why not Elyon also?”
The thought caused Alex to clutch the sides of his head in confusion and guilt. What was going to happen next...?
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Steven Clark Bradley - Nimrod Rising
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Nimrod Rising - As Real As It Gets!
