The Disappearance of a Pied Piper

Millennial Reign

It was 100 years after the Coronation of His Majesty Jesus Christ, and life was beginning to seem like it had everything going for it. Bud had become the best mayor New York City had ever known. The boroughs were thriving, again, after the first few years when there were too many shops and too few people to run those shops.

Many Tribulation Saints had married and had children. Now, those children have come to working age. Businesses, that had a superabundance of vacant positions, were starting to turn people away because the positions had been filled.

Commerce was moving smoothly, and Bud had plans in place for growth in the greater tri-state region. All of this talk of commerce, business, and the growth of infrastructure is starting to be a little alarming, he thought. This happened to the children of Israel in the time of the judges. It was a cycle. The Lord gave victory. Peace reigned. The people got comfortable and began to forget to honor God with their every thought, heartbeat, and breath. Invariably, the Lord allowed challenges, problems, and setbacks to occur to bring the people back to Himself, but what about the Millennial Reign? Would this cycle be part of the reign of the Son of God? Everything is supposed to be perfect when He's in charge, isn't it? Or does he have a purpose in cycles, even for these 1000 years? Is the point, that the human heart is self-centered until it is regenerated by The Lord Himself? Does this show, that even when Jesus reigns there are problems, due to the nature of Man? Still, everything was mostly right for the bulk of the millennium. There were no tempters loose in the world, but the unregenerate heart of man is evil all on its own. The first 200 years of the history of the United States of America were days of calling on God, but there were wars, and the atrocities of humans hurting other humans. Still, the USA was considered a Christian nation, until the mid-twentieth century.

What will our future hold with Jesus Christ on the Throne of the World? Bud wondered. Will all be well? Will all be peaceful? Will all be a glorious reign without problems? I read in Isaiah 11:6-10 KJV, that in the millennium, "the lion will lay down with a lamb, and children will play on the hole of asps, and none will hurt in My Holy Mountain," but if the end of the millennium will see the release of Satan to once again tempt the Earth away of The Lord Jesus, what kind of undertones of Society must already be in place when the Deceiver wreaks havoc on the peaceful reign of nearly 1000 years?

After a couple of hours of morbid introspection, Bud snapped out of his downward thoughts. "I have a group of cities to lead, and The Lord Jesus is still on the Throne. All is well for now, and there is a large parade to host tomorrow on Thanksgiving Day. The original Macys may no longer be here, but a few of the faithful employees, mostly janitors, survived as Tribulation Saints. They knew the time of the Macys, until now, and they all loved the Joy and Happiness The Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade gave to the world. So, they've helped to keep it alive, and well."

At 11:00 AM Cynthia popped into the mayor's office to offer Bud a change of scenery for lunch. "Would the mayor clear his book for a couple of hours? I want to go for a walk through Central Park. It would be lovely to pick up lunch from one of the vendor carts, talking about life from where we started to where we are, today."

Bud didn't take a moment to consider. He called to his secretary, "John Wesley Spurgeon, hold my calls, and reschedule all of my appointments from noon, until 3:00 PM. The Missus wants some of my time, and I am inclined to give it to her."

"Of course, Your Honor," John Wesley said.

"You can hold the formalities, too, Young Sir," Bud said. "Your Dad virtually led me to the Lord. So, you are practically family. You're doing a good job, Son. Go easy on yourself. I certainly do. Handle the office. If you need help, then call your Dad. He's in the office to my right, since He is my right-hand man."

"Alright, Mr. Bud. I will. Thank you for the job and your often kindness," John Wesley said.

Bud and Cynthia stepped out into the hallway, giving each other that knowing sideways glance. "You want to?" Cynthia asked.

"I'm game if you are," Bud winked.

"Last one to the ground is a rotten egg," Cynthia smirked.

"You wish, Little Missy," Bud said. "I'm older. I'm not dead." Running to the end of the hall, Bud unlatched the sliding door to the circular slide, jumping in feet first, starting to "Wheeeeeeee" all the way down 47 floors with Cynthia sliding right behind him with a "Yessssss" of her own. Finally, at the end of a three-minute ride of sheer childlike joy, Bud flopped over into the sponge pool with Cynthia flopping into his arms, giggling in tears, until she could cry no more.

"Not bad for a 150-year-old man, Eh?" Bud smiled.

"You 143-year-old girlfriend and wife can still play with the Best one, wouldn't you say?"

"Without a doubt," Bud gave her a big sloppy wet kiss as the onlookers cheered.

"I must say, Mrs. Best, that was wisdom to wear biker shorts, under your skirt, considering that I might spring this bit of playfulness on you," Bud said.

"If I know anyone, I know you, Bud Best," Cynthia said. "Your frame is the only thing about you, that is older. There's still a little boy on the inside. Besides, I was listening the day you told Jewel to wear a pair of shorts under her skirt 'just in case you want to go down the slide, and we don't want the boys to see your underwear.' Did I remember your words accurately or not?"

"Spot on, my Dear. That's what I love about you. You're playful and you know me well." Bud smiled. "May I assist you up from this sponge pit or would you like to continue to swim for the next three hours?"

"Here's my hand, Kind Sir," she smiled. "Lead on."

Bowing with Old English flair, he kissed her hand and led her to Central Park, but not before another rousing cheer from the crowd caused two adult children to blush profusely.

About fifteen minutes later the young couple entered one of the main gates of Central Park. Instantly, they felt the weight of the world lift off their shoulders. They looked lovingly into each other's eyes for long minutes.

"Do you have something on your mind, Cyni? Or do you just want to talk about whatever comes up as we walk?" Bud asked.

"You really are the mayor, aren't you, Bud," she winked. "This is your wife. I'm not a project, nor am I an airhead, but you are right. I've got something on my mind. You little stinker. You figured that out."

"What's on your mind, Cyni?" Bud asked.

"Have you ever considered having another baby?" she smiled.

"I haven't really thought about it that much," Bud said. "I've got a lot of scheduled thoughts every day at work."

"I think you should give this thought a little more of your time," Cynthia winked.

Bud gave her a raised eyebrow and leaned toward her. "What are you saying?"

"I think you already know," she smiled.

"You're PREGNANT!" Bud shouted.

Again, the New Yorkers in the vicinity cheered, and the paparazzi snapped photos. (You can already guess the headlines in the evening newspaper. "Mayor to Have Another Baby at 150 Years of Age.")

"Thanks for the Kodak Moment, Sweetheart, but did you have to shout?" Cynthia asked. "Everything you do is a headline. You could have at least a bit more of a poker face, until we got home to celebrate this evening."

"I don't care, Cyni," Bud said. "Let the whole world know. Abraham and Sarah are about to have Isaac."

"Except that Jewel has always wanted to have a baby sister," Cynthia said.

"You already know the gender?"

"Bud, your voice is carrying, again," she put a finger across his mouth to get him to be quieter.

"How is this possible?" Bud asked.

"Do you remember when we heard about our bodies, being more antediluvian?" she asked. "Well, this means, that instead of being totally ancient, according to the life we were born into, our bodies are now more like the bodies we had when we were in our twenties and early thirties."

"You're still fertile and so am I," Bud shook his head. "Oh, Lord Jesus, please help me."

"I would be more than happy to do that, Bud." Jesus smiled. "You've got this, Son. You've been through this three times already. It's high time you learned how to be more of a girl daddy. You'll be marvelous at it."

"Thank you, Lord," Bud said.

"You're welcome," Jesus said, and in a moment He was back in Jerusalem.

"150 and changing diapers, again," Bud shook his head.

"It'll come back to you, Bud," Cynthia assured him. "It's just like riding a bike-"

"But bikes don't smell like that," He hung his head.

"Bud, you're so cute," Cynthia smiled. "You'll love her, and she will adore you."

Taking a turn for the spiritual side of life, Bud asked, "Cyni, you will help me to rear her in the nurture and admonition of the Lord, right?"

"Of course, I will," she said. "We both love The Lord, and He loves us. We'll take her to see Him often. We'll ask Him to dandle her on His knee. We will ask Him to choose her as one of His Elect. If He doesn't choose to save her, who can?"

"We can ask," Bud said. "The decision and the will is His." (John 6:37,44, KJV)

"We should be getting back, Bud," Cynthia said. "You have an afternoon schedule to keep."

"Seriously?" he asked. "You think I can concentrate on business after news, like this? I may have to take the rest of the day off to think about the fact, that we're having another baby."

Cynthia smiled.

As they walked back through the main gate of Central Park into the streets of New York, Bud felt the weight of the world come right back on his shoulders. However, this weight was heavier with thoughts of his soon-coming daughter. He wasn't sure why he felt apprehensive about this news, but maybe, just maybe it had something to do with the undertones of Society, that he was starting to sense. Will my daughter be part of the Elect? Will her own free will get the best of her?

When they arrived at his office, Bud kissed Cynthia on the top of the head, saying, "See you at home, later."

"Are you alright, Bud?" she asked. "You've been so quiet on the walk back to the office. Are you upset about my news?"

"Oh. No. I'm not upset, Cyni," Bud said, "Yet, I feel a strong need to pray and ask The Lord to choose her as part of The Elect. I can't imagine how I would respond if she isn't Elect."

"Oh, Bud. It's okay, and I will certainly pray with you about this," she smiled. "Relax. He won't let her miss it."

He smiled and walked into his office.

"John Wesley, please continue to hold my calls," Bud said. "I have a strong need to pray about something, probably for the rest of the day."

"I will, Sir," John Wesley said.

Walking into his office, Bud closed and locked the door. Between the door and his desk, Bud fell prostrate on the floor, pouring out his heart to The Lord. "Dear Lord Jesus, please grant, that my preborn daughter is among The Elect. She will be born in Total Depravity. She already needs Your Unconditional Election. She needs that precious Limited Atonement to pay for her Sin, and to make her perfectly pure before God. Please, draw her with Your Irresistible Grace, and keep her by Your Power in the Perseverance of the Saints. Lord, I love all of my children, especially right now the one, that is yet to be born. I don't want to lose, even one child. I feel very deeply the word of Moses in Exodus 32:32, KJV, 'Yet now, if thou wilt forgive their sin--; and if not, blot me, I pray thee, out of thy book which thou hast written.' I beg You to save her, and if you don't, then don't save me, either. In Jesus' Name, Amen.”

Just as soon as Bud finished his prayer, Cynthia walked into the outer office. "Mrs. Best, I'm to hold all of his calls."

"This is not on you, John Wesley," Cynthia said. "I need to see Bud. I'm going in."

"Yes, ma'am," he said and held out one arm in the direction of the door.

The door was still locked. So, Cynthia pounded on the door. "Bud Best, you let me in this instant!"

Security showed up at the outer office as Bud unlocked the door, letting Cynthia into His inner office. "It's alright, Joe. It's my wife. We've had big news, today. I'll explain later," Bud said.

Security nodded, backing out the door, and relaxing the hand over the pistol.

Bud closed the door and locked it a second time. Then, he reached for Cynthia, burying his face into her chest, sobbing like a baby. "I knew something was wrong, Bud. I couldn't leave you that way. Get it out. When you're able, tell me what it is."

After fifteen minutes of heaving tears, Bud finally gathered himself, seating himself and Cynthia on the couch, slowly beginning to form the words. "I don't know why, but I have been having a really bad feeling about this child's life."

"What do you think is the source of this bad feeling?" she asked.

"I can't pin it down. It's just a gut feeling, I think," Bud said. "I've been praying for the Lord to save her. I've been begging him to write her name in The Lamb's Book of Life, but I can't sense a clear, 'Yes' in response to my prayers."

"Bud, why don't we go ahead and name this little girl?" Cynthia said. "I've read about so many people in the Bible, whose names were significant indicators of the lives they would live. Do you want to pick out a name, Bud?"

"I do," he nodded, "Give me a moment to think what that name should be. 'Lord Jesus,'" he prayed, "'please, give me the wisdom to give my new daughter an excellent name, that may guide her to You. Let Your irresistible Grace draw her, like a cord or yoke from Your Heart. In Jesus' Name, Amen.'"

"That's great, Bud," she said, "Asking The Lord for help is always wise."

"Amazingly, this is one of the hardest things I've ever done," he said, "What can I call my daughter, that will signify the life I want her to have for the honor of the Glory of The Lord?"

"Take a moment, Bud, and think about the meanings of names for girls," Cynthia said.

"I have it," Bud smiled. "We'll call her 'Amy Grace'."

"That's a beautiful name, Bud," Cynthia said. "What is the meaning, that we can rest on, and give to The Lord as our constant prayer for her?"

"Well, 'Amy' reminds me of the Spanish word, 'amor,' which is 'Love' in English, and 'Grace' is 'The Unmerited Favor of The Lord'," Bud said. "I want our little girl to be loved by the Lord, receiving His unmerited favor throughout her life in Time and Eternity."

"I agree with that, Bud," Cynthia said. "That will be our constant prayer as she grows up. All we can do is to ask The Lord for his Favor. We can't save her ourselves any more than we could save ourselves, but we can consistently ask The Lord to perform the work of salvation in her life. On The Lord's Wisdom, we must rest our hopes for her future as well as for ours."

"I agree with that, Cyni," Bud said.

"Unconditional Election is The Lord's Free Will, and we must honor Him by submitting to His Electing Will for as long as we live," she said.

"I've married such a wise lady," Bud said.

They walked out the newly unlocked door, and Bud told John Wesley, "I'm gone for the day, Sir. Hold down the fort, and keep New York City on the straight and narrow at least until tomorrow morning when I get back."

John Wesley stood stupified with his mouth hanging open, confused.

"You don't have to do anything special, Son," Bud said, "Keep answering the phone. Keep logging appointments for me. Be yourself within the parameters of your job. It's all okay."

"He smiled and walked out the door with his right arm around his lovely wife.