Rebels for Christ: Changed & Different

By Elizabeth McAllister

"Romans 11:29 for God's gifts and his call are irrevocable. (New International Study Bible 2011 Edition)

I believe a teacher is allowed some last right questions. There are only two, but they are some of the most important prompts for any individual to answer. "What is your testimony? How are you a changed and different th

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trilogy Christian Publishing
• Release date: Aug 2, 2021
• ISBN: 9781637691519

Book preview

Dedication

This book is dedicated to every individual that Christ, our Savior, has used to spur growth in my relationship with God. You all know who you are! Just know that your Christ-like actions have become imprinted in my heart and will be treasured by me forever. They wound up in my book and have become the foundation for my characters! May God be with you all. I pray this book is used by Jesus as a testimony to the genuine miracles that can happen through fellowship.

I also hope that this book can testify to the true meaning of family, home, and love one can discover when one leaps into God’s Word.

Preface

This book started out on Facebook as part of a chain story.

A friend of mine had an online nail party post that encouraged everyone to be part of a chain story to win a prize. I took the sentences I wrote and posted them to start a chain story myself. Two people added to it. I did my best from that day forward to continue writing on it every day, and still am. I hope my book addicts people to eating the fruits of Christ that grow when a person chooses to let Jesus’ love pump through their heart.

An Unexpected Surrender

Seafoam sloshed over the brim of my hot cup of coffee. My cold, pale lips quivered as they tried to slurp up the brown elixir. The nasty taste of salt clung to the roof of my mouth. That was all my raw sore throat could manage to swallow until the ocean’s powerful waves knocked the cup out of my hand.

I woke up. I needed to wake up and wake up now, even if it was without a cup of coffee. It was all just a daydream. Brutal reality proceeded to hit my mind hard like a sledgehammer in the hands of a 265-pound weightlifter. I was a teacher working in the remote jungles of Kenya whose school had come under attack by a rebel group. The exhaustion from running and hiding made my body drift into sleep. Slowly, I started to become more and more aware of my surroundings.

I felt the abrasive hard branches and soft leaves of the tree I had climbed up to hide in rubbing up against my skin.

I glanced down…My mouth silently mimicked the screams my brain was telling my body not to let out. Then the lenses of my eyes contracted to focus in on the eerie way the sunlight reflected off every shiny edge of the blood-stained machetes, parading in unison below me.

A filmmaker would have killed to capture the authentic monstrosity and horror of what was unfolding before me.

It would have been a box office hit and produced an epic show. But instead of going to the movies, I was going to have to live this thriller/horror film in real life, and it was going to play out right now—no time for scene reenactments or for putting on fake skin and blood. The time to start acting was now or never.

I gently grabbed at my pockets, feeling for my survival gear. My survival gear included a compass, Ferro-rod striker, and a hand-drawn map. The map was my diamond in the rough.

It had been made for me and forged in the geographic wisdom of a native who was living a nomadic lifestyle. The knowledge drawn on it could not be replaced, and it was given to me by the director of the orphanage I served at.

I could hear the director’s voice replaying inside my head, telling me never to lose this drawing of trails and to only use it to navigate through the jungle in exigent circumstances. Maps like this could not be purchased in a city or village because the paths sketched on it were only known by one local tribe.

The items I carried with me were like priceless pieces of heirloom jewelry that any woman in the jungle would be proud to adorn themselves with.

These valuable objects had been passed down to me by experts who knew what it took to withstand the lethal elements specific to this part of tropical wilderness. God willing, I could wear these jewels to court any foresight within this unique ecosystem. May they forever sparkle and flaunt my blessing of riches through Christ.

Everything seemed to be accounted for, but I had an extra item. It was round with a top. My heart began to jump out of my throat; I had almost forgotten about the student I had managed to conceal from the eyes of the rebel army. My shaky hand pulled out the bottle of her vital heart medication.

Even if I died, I was determined to keep the beautiful heart of this child beating. Where was she?

An instinctual motherly panic overcame me, causing me to temporarily hyperventilate. My eyes scanned up and down and all around for this beloved kid. There she was! A tidal wave of relief flooded my face and took on the shape of a huge smile.

I began to compose myself again after realizing the rebel army had not taken her. Thankfully, Anika, a vibrant six-year-old, had concealed herself like a chameleon and was just a few tree branches above me.

I felt the urge to swallow but could not. I began to feel the same sickness and raw sore throat from my dream. I knew that we were dehydrated and needed to get water fast. The pills with my hand still trembling, I slowly lifted one of the small round white lifesaving medications up to Anika. I felt the clammy sweat roll off her skin as she took the pill from my hand, indicating that her heart may be in distress.

With my eyes wide open and without a peep, I cried out to the Lord with every ounce of soul and heart I had. Dear Heavenly Father, thank you for your jungle providing the shelter Anika and I needed to survive. Lord, thank you for the sleep that you placed my body under to provide clarity. Jesus, I ask that you place your hand of protection over us as the rebels hack their aggressive jagged paths through the jungle floor looking to find and kill us. Lord, use me today to help this child; if captured, Lord, wrap your indestructible strength around me and cause my body to shout your name even when faced with sadistic methods of torture and rape. In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

After praying, I quickly placed all my prized heirlooms into the sweet little palms of Anika’s hands in case I was captured. The rebels were brutal, especially if you declared Jesus as your Christ and Savior. This would prevent Anika from having to witness my bloodied, exposed, desecrated body to get the map, pills, and striker. It was now or never.

I started to make my way down the tree after spotting the last member of the rebel group.

I gave Anika one last reassuring smile; then I started to psych my mind into telling my muscles to move my body down towards danger. My stomach lurched and rumbled, creating uncontrollable bile that started to seep out of the corners of my mouth. Was the individual at the end of the group the weakest physically, or put in that position because he knew the jungle the best and the strongest?

Keep moving, I silently repeated to myself, and no more second-guessing your moves. My journey downward continued. It was right then that my trembling hand reached down and grasped a peculiar comforting velvety branch. I looked down to analyze what I was holding. It was the mid-section of a snake.

Strangely, I felt comforted knowing that I was not alone.

I began to bask in the silver lining of an idea that had popped into my head, like the snake basking in the sunlight in front of me. I remembered reading that kings used snakes as a psychological tool to make them look powerful. They would have their servants collect non-poisonous snakes that common folk did not know were not poisonous. Therefore, the people were deceived into thinking the king could even control venomous snakes. Thank you and praise you, Lord, I shouted in my mind as I quickly grabbed my new friend by the mid-section.

With a newfound confidence, I jumped to the ground, making myself known. This was how a short woman of four foot nine was going to overcome a man I judged to be around five foot ten. The man turned around. He was now facing me with stone-cold desensitized killer eyes and ominous machete bathed in blood.

He started to taunt me with his deep laugh and chuckle.

There you are… he said. I have been waiting to chop you up. It shouldn’t take too long once I get you down to the ground. In fact, I think we might be able to have some fun; I bet you will be a treat. The harder you scream, the longer it will take.

He started a slow over-confident gait towards me and began to continue expounding on his twisted thoughts. I’m bored of cutting limbs off; you’re small enough that I think I want to try something new and use my machete to cut your body in half.

Unexpectedly, my mouth opened. Mighty and strong words by the grace of Christ began to flow through my lips. I was trying to stall him before surprising him with the snake I was holding behind my back.

Jesus is my Lord and Savior, and He has my back! I shouted at the top of my lungs. If you want to live, give me your machete now, and run. Behind my back is something so venomous it can kill you or me within minutes if I choose. It works fast, so you will not have too much fun with me.

I started to pray silently in my head that he did not have extensive knowledge of serpents. Then, I revealed my reptile friend. He jumped back.

Okay, okay, he said, I did not want to join this rebel group. I have a family and kids.

Then leave your machete and run, I said. The snake loves me but, if you continue to walk forward, he will strike.

To my surprise, the facial expression on the five-foot-ten man with thick black hair changed. He gently pushed the machete forward, his brown eyes no longer displaying an apathetic, desensitized stare. It had been replaced by a shockingly soft and genuine look that made the muscles in my body oddly relax. He then gave me one last look and turned around and fell to his knees and started crying and pleading for me to kill him.

An overwhelming urge to shout out Deuteronomy 31:8 came over me. My vocal cords joyfully started to recite the Bible verse to the man now crying in front of me, The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged. God had fought for me today. I grabbed the machete that would allow me to make my own path through the jungle. Peace hit my heart hard like a ray of sunshine!

Then the man turned around and faced me. He told me that if he were to meet back up with his rebel group, he would suffer an indescribable death. The man’s voice began to crackle in between tears. The individual then proceeded to tell me that they had been coursed into joining this rebel group right after watching their parent’s limbs be chopped off. He then went on to further explain himself and his story.

The rebel said, I could not bring myself to kill in such brutal ways. I learned quickly that if I dipped the blade of my machete in the blood of a person killed by another rebel, I did not have to take lives to survive.

He then asked me, Who is this God you talk of? I held my breath. The Lord was now prompting me to walk over and pray with the individual who, just moments before, had been determined to cleave my body in half. Wow! God’s plan is something so unbelievably beautiful, I thought to myself. Now overwhelmed with emotion, I stood motionless in complete amazement over what was taking place and what had taken place.

On my approach to pray with this man, I looked back at my footprints in the brown-caked jungle floor mud. I knew full well that God had been carrying me this whole time. Then I dropped the machete as a peace symbol for my second newfound friend. On my very last step towards him, I gently placed my hand on one of his broad, muscular shoulders to offer support.

The shoulder was sturdy and wonderfully toned from the trials and hardships of nomadic jungle life. It was rock solid like the Word of God. No doubt, he could have ended my life in a heartbeat. I then kneeled to pray with him. With hardly any energy left, I forced my voice box to vibrate and make noise. I prayed, "Dear Heavenly Father, thank you for this wonderful man and this miracle! Lord, I lift him up into your mighty hands. It is you who love him more than anyone else could. I pray that you become his Savior today because you are the only one who is capable of turning a past full of such hurt, tragedy, and fear into a beautifully changed, brave heart that beats for your will. Let him choose your ways for the rest of his days and use this strong testimony to bless others.

We love you, Lord. We cannot get through a single moment in the jungle without you, Jesus. We place our lives in your hands. In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen!"

Unexpectedly, the man I didn’t even know the name of swept me up off my feet and started to swing me around and around along with my relaxed snake friend. He began chanting Jesus’s name and the words brave and heart! He then set me down. The snake had a sense of security after the wild swinging began to coil itself around my wrist in the form of a fashionable bracelet.

The rebel chuckled and said, I feel like a bird that has finally left the nest. I can fly now, and for the first time in my life, I know what true freedom is! This reminded me of a friend from Africa that I knew from college. She was a kindred soul from whom you could feel the Holy Spirit oozing out.

She would pat me on the head and repeat the same metaphor the rebel referred to. She would warmly say the bird has not left the nest when I would leave Twin Falls, Idaho, to drive home to work at a coffee shop in Hailey, Idaho.

A Crash Course in Jungle Survival

The rebel’s hug also caused another sweet memory of friendship to start blooming like a prized orchid inside of my head.

The beautiful fragrant memory petal of this person’s custom was very dear to me. I let the striking colors of the ritual written in my thoughts run through my head. The beautiful habit that I was recalling embraced the actions of this individual picking me up and pretending to put me in the trunk of their car.

This was their way of lovingly teasing me by trying to prevent me from driving home to work.

The celebratory dance of sweet memories and the rebels’ grand surrender had come to an end. The paint of war began to etch its dark pigment over me and my friend’s joy filled facial expressions, turning them into survivalist poker faces displaying no emotion. Like rare melanistic leopards, our majestic markings of joy and grace through Christ were not obvious on the outside but found deep inside our hearts. Through the light of our Savior, one could see us for who we really were, which was warriors for Christ. Today, our true spots had been revealed to each other under the powerful alternate light source of prayer!

In order to help break up the ominous cloud of silence that had formed during this emotional transition, I decided to ask the rebel what his name was. Jaru, he stated. Then he looked me straight in the eye and asked what he should call me. Gadreiel, I said. The disconcerting look of sadness and bad news was now written all over Jaru’s intense soul-piercing glance. Before he could deliver it, I jumped up and started to climb the tree Anika to inform her of the blessing and that the danger had passed.

She smiled wide and no longer had cold sweat dripping down from her. She began to follow me down the tree.

Finally, we had made it to the lowest branch, which was about six feet high. Carefully, I started to lower myself to the jungle floor. Once down, I reached my arms out to catch Anika.

She jumped. The gravity of her weight was too much for my body to lay hold of. My attempt to protect her from the impact of the fall left me lying on the ground with the wind knocked out of me. I gasped for air and lay there helpless, scanning the area for Jaru.

Once oxygen began to enter my lungs again, I then scrambled back to my feet, throwing my body over Anika for protection. Where had my friend gone, and was he going to kill me after all? Before I had time to even form another thought, I felt the cold blade of a machete brush up against my hair follicles. "Gadreiel! I could easily have killed both of you.

Get your head back in the game," Jaru belted out in a loud, shocking tone.

That sweet girl would have been raped alongside you.

He forcefully spun me around to face him and then spoke. "Never let down your guard or get comfortable. That is when you will die, and the jungle starts decomposing your body.

I love you and your Jesus, so listen to my every word. I leave tomorrow as a free man to reunite with my two sons. But today, I am willing to give you a crash course on how to make your way out of this jungle alive with your student."

I put my listening ears on, even though they wanted to block out any soundwaves entering my ear canals regarding bad news.

Okay, you’ve got my attention now, I said.

Then Jaru gave me a quirky, weird sideways smile and replied, Good, let’s take a walk through the jungle. You know, Gadreiel, they forced me to train the rebels because I have a talent for wilderness survival. I was the one towards the back of the line because I don’t get lost, little Gadreiel!

That makes complete sense, I replied in a soft, ready-to-learn tone. Then out of concern for my snake friend, I cut Jaru off and began to speak out of turn and off-topic. To Jaru, I probably looked like a child desperate to avoid the looming lesson of their teacher.

Wait! I yelled. You mentioned having the freedom to see your children. Then I pointed to my snake buddy, who had managed to slither onto my other arm.

After making Jaru aware of the snake again, I said, I would like to set this precious gift that God provided for me free before we continue.

Okay, Gadreiel, go ahead and release it, Jaru replied in a sharp tone.

My rebel teacher swallowed hard, trying to hold back the mudslide of irritation my comment was causing him. Before I knew it, my gratitude for this animal expressed itself in a series of salty tears that trickled down my face as I thanked the snake for its protection. Then I gently kissed it before releasing it back into a tree. I was going to miss my green friend.

Suddenly, and without any warning, the ground beneath me started to spin out of control.

My knees became weak, and then my head hit the ground with a huge thud. My mind was now trapped in a black realm of nothingness without a thought to be found. It wasn’t until drops of cool water began to dribble off my mouth that I realized I still existed. I hated the feeling of nothingness the most. My thirst at this moment was