Signs and Seasons

By Melanie Shubitowski

What is the evidence that we are truly living in the last days described in the Bible? Even the disciples thought Jesus would return in their lifetime, and people for centuries have looked at this event or that event and thought the end days were upon them, so how are the world events of today different from those before? Is there something going on today that is unprecedented throughout human history? In Signs and Seasons, you'll discover an eye-opening and thought-provoking journey through the signs evident in our world today. What are the signs we should be watching for? Are the signs evidence of an event to happen immediately, or are they part of a bigger picture? Explore the signs from the past that were outlined in the Bible that have been fulfilled and what lies ahead for the human race. Discover how scientific and archeological finds actually help support the truth of scripture. Uncover what is not being told by the media and how world events relate to prophecy foretold long ago. What is the "season" that was foretold, and how do we recognize and prepare for it? Are the prophecies told centuries ago something to fear and avoid, or is there a real reason for hope in all the chaos and deception of today's world? Signs and Seasons will alter the way you view the world around us.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Dec 4, 2019
• ISBN: 9781645696926

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Signs and Seasons

Melanie Shubitowski

Copyright © 2019 by Melanie Shubitowski

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.

832 Park Avenue

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Since you have kept my command to endure patiently, I will also keep you from the hour of trial that is going to come on the whole world to test the inhabitants of the earth.

—Rev. 3:10

Preface

I grew up in a family who were staunch Catholics and attended an elementary Catholic school in my youth. A few women in my father’s family were nuns. Amid personal circumstances and conflicts, I fought to retain my faith in God and our Lord, Jesus Christ. While taught much of the Bible throughout my childhood, I grew to have a feeling something was missing in my life. I would read the Bible and wonder, why was this taught but not this? I later learned that approximately one-third of the Bible is prophecy. In fact, there are over 2,500 prophetic details throughout the Bible. The prophecies pertaining to the first coming of Christ were 100 percent fulfilled—over 300 of them prior to and pertaining to the birth of Jesus, his life, death and resurrection—yet there were other prophecies in both the Old and New Testaments that were rarely, if ever, mentioned. Every mass, the profession of faith, Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again was uttered by the priest and congregation; yet it never seemed to go much further than that. It, like much of the service, became a mindless, emotionless ritual I could do in my sleep. I would attend mass; and when it was over, it was kind of one of those moments when you say, How did I get here? I remember starting out and ending but not much in between. We learned about Adam and Eve, Noah, Jonah, Moses, Abraham, and, of course, Jesus and the Apostles; but there were so many parts left out. In fact, entire books of the Bible were omitted or very rarely mentioned except in passing.

As I entered adulthood, I began a quest to study to try to understand these omissions, what they meant, and what effect they might have on my life. It began slowly at first; but as I went on, my hunger for this knowledge became greater and greater. The words He who has ears, let them hear or variances of it appear seven times in the book of Revelation alone, yet I was taught little or nothing of it growing up. The book literally shouts I’m important, READ ME!; yet those words seem to fall on deaf ears, blind eyes, and mute tongues in many Christian faiths. I attended several different churches and denominations seeking the answers to the questions I had.

When my friend Julie’s grandmother died, her mom requested a passage from the book of Revelation be read at the funeral. Julie’s family members were all practicing Catholics, and I remember the priest agreed to comply with the request but added that we don’t often mention the book of Revelation because many find it too scary.

The more I delved into this book and several others containing prophecies of the second coming and end times—among them, Daniel, Ezekiel, and Matthew—the more I found hope, not fear, in these passages. For those whose hearts have been hardened or have little faith, yes, there are things to come that they should fear; but for those who read the words and truly anticipate the second coming of our Lord, the words and prophecies tell of the blessed hope. A day when God’s will shall be done, and all evil will be eradicated from the face of the earth. A day when we will not debate the words and deeds of presidents, rulers, and kings but bow to the glory of our risen King, the King of all Kings.

Why is this book necessary? In this day and age of technological advancements and knowledge, people probably more than ever want proof. We get bombarded with one story that says one thing from one angle and another that states a totally different thing from another angle. The younger generation especially, having grown up with many of these advancements in place, tend to not believe anything without proof that it is true or at least what is passed off as truth. If they were not taught it in school or were taught something different in school, then it must not be true. This creates a huge problem when you consider that God was intentionally removed from schools. If the Bible were only at least looked at as historical events and the evidence shown of archeological findings that offer the proof that these events are true, many would be more open to the rest of the Bible. When you look around the church—any church, any denomination—you should see one thing disturbing that jumps out: very shallow representation of younger generations. While this is nothing new, it may have grown to be a bigger problem with the science-based environment people are growing up in. Scientific evidence does exist in many areas, and this book serves as a tool to understand its existence, as well as the meaning of things even older generations may not be aware of. Even those youth who adhere to Christ and God’s word reach an age of adulthood and often drift away and then maybe return twenty or thirty years later. The best advice for Christian parents is to plant the seed very early in your children’s lives and then continually nourish it. Like a seed planted early in the planting season and nourished, you know the season of winter is coming. You plant the seed early, water and fertilize it in hopes that its roots will grow deep, and return when the time is right. Teach your children early and grow those spiritually roots deep; so that if or when a hard season comes on them, they will return and blossom in the Lord.

Avoiding and fearing the things written that must happen does not stop or even postpone them from happening at some point. While Jesus told us that no man knows the day or the hour of his return, we can know the seasons. It is my firm belief that we have little time left to bring others to Christ, that they may not need to fear or suffer through the things that are to come. As world events unfold, I fear more and more for the people who walk the earth blind to the truth while pursuing wealth, power, worldly gains, and pleasure. The time to bring them to the truth is now, and the time may be running short to do so. I find it incredible to believe that the masses easily buy into any narrative or social media meme based on half truths and how well it fits into their political narratives yet refuse or neglect to see the real truths that are all around and out in the open. These are truths that were foretold long ago, many of which have already passed. We live in the age of deception, which is also all around us. With all this deception running rampant, how does one distinguish the real truth? The answer is quite easy for those who truly want to find it.

Entire books have been published about some of the material included. The purpose of this text is not to bludgeon the reader with numerous pages covering each segment of material but to instill the reader to want to find out more and come to a conclusion by their own hand, just as I did. I debated about whether to include the information about myself in the first chapter. I finally decided that it was important that people know these things about me and how God moved in my life. I even debated publishing any of this at all. I’m not a pastor, I’m not a theologian, and I am not a doctorate. I have no degree in religious studies, but I have received sign after sign from God that tells me that this is the direction he wants me to go. I can only surmise that it is from my rather rare and unique position and experiences that I can serve him in a way that few others can or will.

The Bible verses contained in this text are from the New International Version unless otherwise noted.

Chapter 1

My (Condensed) Story

The sixties and seventies saw many tumultuous times. The United States lived in fear of nuclear war with the Soviet Union, and the Soviet Union lived in the same fear. Fallout shelter signs still dotted city landscapes. There were hippies, free love, race wars, and protest of the war with Vietnam. Every night, Chet Huntley and David Brinkley would begin their nightly newscast with tallies of dead, wounded, and missing US and Viet Cong soldiers as if the entire thing was some macabre game of numbers. Yet there was still an ounce of decency and moral conduct in society. Hollywood could make hilarious movies and TV shows without the constant need for sexual references and innuendos. This was a time when actors and actresses like Jerry Lewis, Dean Martin, Doris Day, and many others still ruled the screen. These were the times of my childhood, yet I silently struggled with issues I could not explain. Little was known and allowed to be talked about. I debated about sharing this aspect in this book but prayed about it and decided that it was a necessary inclusion. I could—and in fact, did—write chapters on it but held off on publishing because I felt God had a bigger calling for me.

God seemed to be watching over me before I was even born. My adoptive mother could not have children of her own. This was known by my uncle’s sister, Mary Alice, who was a nurse in Richmond, California. When it became known that I would be put up for adoption when I was born, Mary Alice, knowing my parents were looking to adopt, contacted my mother and father to let them know about it. When I was born, they had already arranged the adoption papers and were on a plane from northeast Ohio to California. Before long, they were on a return flight to Ohio, with me in their arms. My mom and dad, Ed and Anerva, brought me up in a wonderful home with more love than I’ve seen in many biological families. When I think back to how close I probably came to becoming an orphan in California and what instead transpired, I cannot help but see God moving in my life from the onset.

I am a transwoman, and my personal story of gender conflict goes back to my very earliest memories of life. I considered omitting this fact from this book but prayed about it and felt it was necessary to include. God sometimes chooses the most unlikely people to spread his word. In today’s society, David would have certainly been tried and convicted for conspiracy to commit murder. Who would have thought that Moses, growing up in the house of the Pharaoh, would lead the Jews out of Egyptian captivity? Paul (Saul) was certainly no Christian until he encountered a resurrected Christ, and it profoundly changed his life. Even Christ himself came in a way that wasn’t anticipated by the masses and brought a message that was far from what was expected of the Messiah and was not accepted by the elders of the Jewish faith then or largely yet today. I decided to keep my story as short as possible, touching on the most important events I dealt with and how God was still there for me. Growing up in a Catholic home and attending a parochial school, I struggled with the question of how and why I was different from others and battled to retain my belief in God amid this personal conflict. It couldn’t be talked about; and few, if any, realized what I grew up dealing with. I’ve often told people that no matter how long they have known me, I was transgender when we met. The only real difference in that respect between then and now is that now they know about it. I even practiced an alternate gospel to explain away why I was who I was when others would say it could not be. I can’t even count how many times I went to bed, praying silently or aloud for God to take this from me. I prayed that he would let me wake up in the morning feeling 100 percent male or female, and I didn’t even care which. I only knew that it was not fun feeling somewhere in between. I knew it was not something I chose in life and often wondered what I had done wrong that God would put this on me. It was not something that came upon me late in life either. My very earliest memories of my life contained a constant feeling that something was wrong, and I actually have a memory of when I was being potty-trained. I had no idea what at the time, but I remember feelings that something didn’t feel right. Further, I was plagued with the same dream almost nightly until it gradually tapered off; and I stopped having it around the age of twelve.

In the dream, I was a young girl about six years old. I was the only thing in color. I had shoulder-length sandy-blonde hair and wore a blue-and-white dress. I was sitting with my parents, although the parents in my dream were not my actual parents. Everything but I in the dream was sort of a black and white. We were at a table by the water in what was obviously a canal city, and my parents were drinking coffee and speaking in a foreign language that I understood in my dream but not upon awakening. Being adopted and half Italian, I grew up assuming it was set in Venice. Be the architecture, hair, and clothing styles, I would place it as being set somewhere around the 1940s. This dream would occur sometimes five or six nights a week when I was young. I saw myself at times in the dream from an exterior view and at other times through my own eyes. I grew up first seeing myself as a girl, several years older than I was, then the same age, and then younger than my actual age. I’d almost forgotten about this dream later in life until I was in my thirties and teaching myself Russian. In the course of my language studies, I was looking at pictures online of Russia and encountered one from Saint Petersburg, a canal city often referred to as Venice of the North. The picture I discovered was practically identical to the setting in the frequently recurring dream of my youth.

I grew up in a predominantly Catholic family. A few of my great aunts were nuns in Michigan, where my father was from. I’d enrolled in a Catholic school in third grade. At the end of fourth grade, I was jumped to the sixth grade, never attending fifth. The nuns knew I loved animals; and after acquiring a Great Dane in the convent, they asked me to take Marmaduke for a walk every day at lunch, which I was glad to do. I was about eighty pounds in the eighth grade, so it was more Marmaduke taking me for a walk, but I really enjoyed doing it. I was devoted to God throughout my youth; but I was constantly haunted with feelings of gender entrapment, which I kept to myself, never really knowing what to make of it. I’m sure my parents knew about it, but it wasn’t talked about. I prayed frequently for God to remove this from me, but it never left. My father was an ore boat captain for United States Steel; and since the company allowed families of captains, mates, and engineers to take trips aboard the boats, I basically grew up spending as much as half my summers traveling up and down the Great Lakes aboard ore carriers.

In 1975, my dad was captain of the Leon Frasier. I’d usually gravitated toward the youngest members of the crew during my yearly time aboard the boats; but this year, I hung out with Bob, who was a wiper in the engine room. A wiper was kind of the engine room equivalent of a deckhand. Bob always talked about his girlfriend in Duluth, Minnesota; and one day, he pulled a picture out of his wallet and gave it to me, saying, You’d like her younger sister. Her name was Melanie; and up until that point, when I’d see a girl, I honestly didn’t know if I wanted to be with her or be her. One look at Melanie, and I knew the answer. Melanie was essentially born that day, and I kept the picture with me for many years to come.

It seemed the more I prayed for God to take it from me, the more I seemed to be led down the path to transition. I had to keep myself mentally and physically occupied 100 percent of my time awake for most of my life just to fend off the feelings of gender entrapment. In my teens, I became interested in motocross. I spent nearly every day I could riding my bikes, from a Honda 50 to an XR75, jumping briefly to Suzuki on a TM125. My best friend, you could say for several years, became my 1975 Honda CR125. For me, riding my bike hard was one of my go-to escapes to occupy my mind and body, the other being music. I had taken piano lessons staring when I was six years old and picked up trombone, which I played in my high school marching band. Whatever I did, motocross or music, I totally engrossed myself with it, putting forth 100 percent effort into it; but at night, when my body and mind began to rest, the feelings came over and over, haunting me relentlessly at every opportunity they had.

Like so many transgenders, I involved myself with things that I hoped would eliminate these feelings and allow me to become a man. It’s very common, I would find out much later, for people like myself to get involved with some of the roughest, most physical sports and activities, usually a subconscious endeavor to man up. I would discover that many would become contractors or truck drivers, or enter the military. Not just the military but usually the toughest outfits: the Marine Corps, Navy Seals, Green Berets, and other special ops. For me, it was the Marine Corps; however, with flat feet and arches cramping on long runs, it was to be rather short-lived. I received an honorable medical discharge from the USMC and, shortly after, met who was to become my first wife and mother of my two children. Christine and I were married in 1978, but that too was to be rather short-lived, after she discovered my deepest secret; and we were divorced in 1980. During this period, I also picked up bass guitar, which became my favorite instrument. For years, I couldn’t afford an amplifier and learned to play with my ear to the neck to be able to hear the notes until I finally acquired an amp on a trade.

In my teens after leaving the Catholic church, I had drifted somewhat away from God, aside from my regular nightly pleas. It wasn’t that I didn’t believe in him, but the Catholic faith had left me with a rather empty feeling about Christianity; but here I was at twenty-one, divorced and lonely, and found myself turning more back to God.

In 1982, I had prayed hard for this to be removed from me and for God to bring me someone to love. Very shortly after that, I met Tamara and fell in love instantly. It was the proverbial love at first sight. When our eyes met, we couldn’t take them off each other. Within six months of meeting, she discovered all my hidden secrets and, to my surprise, fully supported me, eventually becoming a friend of the trans community as well. I had prayed to God to remove my problem; and instead, I had a companion who understood and supported me. She was my soulmate in every way possible. But neither of us were in any race to the chapel.