A gripping tale that isn’t finished but will carry on to a good end, eventually.

This is the End of a Long Story About a Dysfunctional Family.

Another “Why I believe” story. Told by the last man standing.

Click HERE for a free read.

Prologue

The first time I attended Church, in earnest, was a month before Diana died. I was 52, a statistical anomaly according to Secular Wisdom. Technically, it wasn’t a good Church. There was a lot of good Preaching, based on Scripture, but absolutely no teaching about the Depths of the Riches of the Knowledge and Wisdom of God.

It turned out that the Pastor had no recognised certification. I suppose his major theological qualification, as far as I was concerned, was that he knew more about God than I did — and he was on fire for Jesus. I had to start self-feeding and found out that much of his Doctrine was not quite correct.

But as the Intellectual Theology progressed at home and the experience at Church, it became apparent it wasn’t the usual type of place that I saw when visiting other Churches. It was a Spiritual Hospital where the stretcher cases were being treated by the walking wounded — the day the membership reached 100, we had a celebration. By natural attrition, that group dissipated and is now long gone.

I was speaking to a friend about the Godlessness of our political leaders, and the types of laws they pass which violate God’s Laws, during Fellowship Time a few weeks ago, when a bystander reminded me that I was in church, so I shouldn’t mention such things. The people at this Church are fantastic, but I realised that we are marching in the same Parade but to the beat of a different drum — I missed my old Tribe.

The stories told in this ‘Why I Believe” project can’t be fully understood by someone who hasn’t had a Job Moment. “I have heard of you with my ears but now I see you with my eyes.” I think I’ve found my Tribe.

So here is another story about why I believe. (You may have to read it a few times. The sequence of events jumps around a bit. Better have a cuppa and a good lie down before you start.)

Background

In mid October 2019, my sister, Joan, informed me that she had terminal cancer — only a few weeks left, as it turned out.

I live on the west coast of Australia, Perth, and she lived just a few kilometres from the most eastern point of the continent, the Gold Coast. (Many apparent minor details will prove to be important as this tale progresses.)

On 23rd October 2019, I was informed that my brother, Bill, had died after a long illness.

Ours was a dysfunctional family, and Billy and Joan had not spoken to each other for forty years — even though they had lived two suburbs apart. There was much bad blood. We were so fractured that no one knew he was ill, and Joan didn’t think it important to tell her brother she was dying.

My siblings were so different. Joan was a Child of the Promise (Billy Graham, 1959). Bill was Darkness Personified. A bad drunk, bad husband, bad father at the end of a long line of bad drunks, bad husbands, and bad fathers. [The line continues because, last I heard, one of his sons was a bad drunk, bad husband, bad father.]

Neither of his sons wanted to attend his funeral or make any claim on his estate. Strangely, he had been a better brother to me than he was a father to them.

Because my sister was busy dying herself, I had to go and bury my brother.

A shock

What struck me was that I felt no emotion about Billy. As far as I could see, he was on his way to Hell, and I felt no grief for my brother. This concerned me. Was my heart so hard?

THIS TALE IS TOLD TO BRING GLORY TO GOD

Introduction

On 23rd October 2019, Billy died. His passing was linked to a Prophecy concerning the Family Bloodline; this is discussed soon, but not in any detail.

On December 7th, 2021, his ex-wife, Kay, passed away. This is an account of what happened that day and shortly after. Not all details are included. A lot happened.

Public Domain: South Coast Sun Newspaper, South Africa

Ancient History

For various reasons, back in the 1960s, I had been given the nickname, Little Rat.

For other diverse reasons, this was translated into Japanese one Saturday afternoon in the Southern Spring of 1964. (Many, but not all, of the dates mentioned here are certain because they are connected to assorted documents.)

For no apparent reason, I chose one of these characters as my signature.

(I can’t get this any smaller.)

A Jubilee period, fifty years later, in 2014, (I suspect to the very same date but can’t be absolutely sure), there was a Creation Ministries talk on “The Creation Story in Ancient Chinese Literature,” where it was shown that the Chinese character for God was,

(This one either.)

A reference for this being,

This was obviously interesting, but I couldn’t find a copy of the 1964 translation, so, because of my interest in the astounding accuracy of the Prophecies in Scripture, the connection could not be verified (God doesn’t need any help), thus it just simmered on the back-burner until 10:25 am, December 7th, 2021. The hour is important, as is the year; one Shabbat of years after 2014.

Now it gets spooky

I was at a meeting that day when someone just mentioned in passing that she’d done a degree in Japanese, so, just for jollies because my interest had waned, I asked her offhandedly about the translation of “Little Rat.” (Keep in mind that this meeting had been scheduled to be held two weeks prior, but had been postponed twice.)

Because of the different Oriental alphabets, she didn’t get anything I remembered. But Google Translate came to mind on the way home. The Google translation above confirms the original translation that I remember.

The Chinese translation of “happiness” confirms the character — the Chinese alphabet apparently often has a strong influence on the Japanese alphabet, so I’m led to believe.

Now go back a step.

As far as I knew, my brother Billy and his ex-wife Kay, who both lived in the Gold Coast south of Brisbane, were far from being religious but a Prophecy was delivered in Scotland in 2019, given to two of my nieces (my sister, Joan’s, daughters) which declared that my brother (and the Family Bloodline) would be saved.

No one in our family knows what actually happened to Billy in his last days because, as mentioned, the Bad Blood ran deep. But to two of my nieces (Children of the Promise who move in the Prophetic) it was just matter-of-fact because the evidence was so compelling for their spirit. (They had seen their uncle less than a ½ dozen times in their whole life. He did not register in their life until one night in Scotland a few weeks earlier while they were doing a tour to visit their Scottish heritage. Read on.)

The Prophecy

Long story short, they were strangers in a strange town in a strange country at a meeting they were not scheduled to attend (another long story) when a stranger came up to them, identified them (they had not introduced themselves to anyone), and told them that my brother and the bloodline of the Family Name would be saved.

The message that night in Scotland was on Psalm 23. Billy died not long after (as mentioned, no one knew he was ill) on 23rd October 2019. Less than two weeks later, my sister also died while I was there to bury him. However, she was a Child of the Promise, so not much to be concerned about for her.

The implications were that all of my mother’s issues would be saved — my sister, brothers, and I, plus a younger sister (situation unknown) who had been adopted out in the 1950s because single mothers were not supported by the State until the Labor Government in the 1970s — and our progeny.

Upon arrival to bury my brother

Going through Billy’s flat showed he had very few belongings.

One of them was an old letter from my daughter, Liane. Another was a carry-bag from the nationwide childcare franchise that Liane’s daughters attended in Kalgoorlie (the other side of the continent — see map) at the time. He knew nothing about his grandnieces.

The Distances

The Rhema Word to my spirit was that the Prophecy was true.

I then knew in my spirit why I had felt no grief. There was no reason for it.

I’m not a natural Evangelist, but for a week I was on fire.

It was all so exciting. But I can’t say I was the most subtle Evangelist! There were a number of Agencies and Lawyers visited to inform them of Billy’s demise. They all had the usual spiel:

Them: “Sorry for your loss,” “He was very ill,” “It must be a difficult time.”

Me: “He was ill, but he’s fine now. Never better in fact, he’s in Heaven.”

Them: “It’s good for you that you can believe that.”

Me: “Don’t you believe that?”

Them: “You have your truth, and I have mine.”

Me: “Have you ever thought about dying?”

Them: “I prefer not to think about that.”

Me: “It’s easier to stop thinking about it than to stop doing it when the time comes. You’d better start.”

There were no instant conversions that were noticeable. I wasn’t provoking them with fire’n’brimstone. They broached the subject. I was so excited that it just popped out.

Sadly, the only Saints who were even interested when I got home were the Chandelier-Swingers who, like me, moved in the Prophetic [Pentecostals on steroids].

Back to December 7th, 2021.

While I was actually in the process of searching out the Chinese character (01:19 pm, three hours after having the topic brought to my attention), an SMS came from my nephew (brother’s eldest son, Tony) that his mother, Kay, had passed away at 12:30 am, December 7th. My brother and she had experienced a savage divorce several decades ago, but neither had remarried. Kay had chosen to retain her married name, so she was legally included in the Prophecy.

Lacing the cascade of evidence together

1. A Japanese character was chosen (for no particular reason) as my signature in the Southern Spring of 1964.
2. In the spring of 2014, fifty years later (Jubilee Period), it was discovered that the character was the symbol of God in one of the dominant Oriental alphabets, but the connection was not explicit, and the meaning lay dormant while awaiting clarification. (Points 1 and 2 may have been the very same date, but it is not clear.)
3. The period between the 1964 translation and the 2014 Chinese discovery was obviously the period between Jubilee Years. Also, the period between the 2014 discovery and 2021 confirmation was obviously a Shabbat of Years. One such important Biblical period may be a coincidence, but two …? You can decide.
4. In the spring of 2019, a Prophecy was delivered in Scotland, about the Lord’s intentions for our Family Bloodline during a teaching on Psalm 23. In the southern spring of 2019 (on the significant date of the 23rd October), my brother died. (It may have been that the dates of the 1964 translation, the 2014 discovery about the meaning of the character, and the death of my brother were all the same, but I won’t start a cult on it.)
5. At 10:25 am on December 7th, 2021, the topic of the Japanese character arose in a random manner, which prompted another search about the symbol for God. This led to Google Translate, which confirmed the original translation of 1964. (The meeting had been postponed several times over several weeks.)
6. This time the search proved successful and, while the internet was being trawled for more information (Chinese pictograms are very complicated, and I have no knowledge of them), an SMS came from Billy’s eldest son, Tony, that his mother had passed away at 12:30 am that morning.

It is up to you to believe, or disbelieve, that the Holy Spirit had delayed the meeting and prompted the mention of the Little Rat at that very instant in all eternity, and opened my eyes to information that was there all the time — but I hadn’t seen — to be discovered at the very time the message came about one of those included in the Prophecy about the Family Bloodline.

My conclusion

My brother and his wife were not walking with the Holy Spirit as far as I knew. But none of us know what is happening in another person’s spirit.

I’m not a Universalist, but a reasonable person could be forgiven for coming to the conclusion that this evidence points to God being far more eager to save people than we give Him credit. I don’t know how He did it, but people have been hung on less convincing evidence than this.

God is always calling his Creation — even Richard Dawkins — and is willing and eager to rescue them — even Richard Dawkins — if only they would listen — even Richard Dawkins.

Your conclusion is yours.

But the ending is God’s

I may be the last man standing, but that dysfunctional family has ancestors and descendants. I don’t know the Genesis of the prophecy, but I know it will never end. However, it has not been all beer-&-skittles.

○ Billy’s sons are not yet saved — though there are signs that the bad drunk/husband/father is searching.

○ Because Joan’s children knew nothing about her and her siblings, they asked me to write a family history. They didn’t like what they heard and haven’t spoken to me since. A word of warning here. Jack Nicholson was right: not everyone can handle the truth. Sometimes a gram of inaccuracy saves a ton of explanation.

○ My wife and kids, and their families, aren’t saved. But I hang on to that particular Prophecy plus some others. I look and see what’s happening and can’t see how God can do it — but He said He would, so who am I to argue? I look at my own history. Joan had prayed for me for 38 years and then gave up. I prayed for Billy for 26 years — but not with burning faith. I didn’t give up, but made it clear to the Holy Spirit that I was afraid to stop going through the motions because that would leave my brother abandoned. My concern is the unnecessary suffering at present and how low they must fall, pain included, when He decides to move.

SO DON’T GIVE UP ON YOUR RECALCITRANT LOVED ONES — EVEN IF SOME DAYS YOU JUST GO THROUGH THE MOTIONS.

God heard your first prayer and doesn’t forget. He has promised to answer the prayers that are in line with His Will. It is written in James 5:16 || The effective, fervent prayer of a righteous Saint avails much. One prayer that is fervent is enough. The reason for the repeated prayer is to remind yourself that He has the situation in Hand.