A LOOMING TASK WITH A SUPERNATURAL DEADLINE.
The Final Conflict is coming! That is the name of the fifth and final book of the Tears of Heaven series. The previous four books took us on an incredible journey to witness the wonders of Heaven and the horrors of Hell.
It showed us just how much one man would risk in an attempt to rescue the love of his life from the torments of the infernal realm. It took us to the blood soaked battlegrounds of the War in Heaven, giving us a horrifying vision of otherworldly conflict as Satan and his armies marched on Heaven to settle an old score he has with the archangels Gabriel and Michael and their human allies.
We witnessed Satan’s fall to Earth and his attempts to beguile humanity to turn from the one true God and worship him. He would become a new god for a new age, even as an enormous comet hurtled down upon our green Earth.
We followed the adventures of four children in Heaven, entrusted by God Himself with two incredible missions that would change the course of history.
The final book; due out in June, is the book that almost didn’t happen. What transpired sounds like an incident out of the pages of one of my novels. The difference is that this time it was real, not imagination.
AN IMPOSSIBLE FEAT
I was in my 33rd year of retirement when I could write full time. Book four; The Children of Eternity would be coming out in just another two months and I was trying to get into writing mode to get the fifth book started. Yet try as I might I couldn’t get it to come together. I had what looked to be pieces of two different story lines and not big pieces, about 30 pages each.
I’d been feeling a bit tired, not overly so. I just shrugged it off. That was until I had my annual physical. My physician noticed something odd about my heartbeat. It was serious enough that he sent me to a specialist. After a battery of tests including one in which the cardiologist actually sent a probe into my heart, the verdict was in, and it wasn’t good. My heart was enlarged and showed signs of serious nerve damage. My heart function was 45% and dropping. This was the kind of condition that never improved, it could only get worse. Yikes!
“People with my condition generally didn’t live very long.
That was something that the cardiologist didn’t tell me.”
Then I did what so many people do in that situation. I went onto the internet to look up what I could find about my condition. What I discovered was disturbing. People with my condition generally didn’t live very long. That was something that the cardiologist didn’t tell me. Two things came to mind and they’re not the things you might think. My family was pretty well taken care of in the event of my death. No worries there. Yes, but, what about my books? Who would promote them? Then there was book 5. It didn’t even have a name yet. What if the series were never finished? I couldn’t leave it up in the air.
It was July 2012, three months later, and I was at the International Christian Retailers Show in Orlando, Florida doing a book signing. I suddenly knew that the next book had to be ready for the show next year. It was important. I knew I didn’t have much time to finish it, the deadline was close. Yeah, but how much time did I have? I had maybe a few months? No, less than three weeks. It was impossible. I’d been working on it for five months and had barely gotten started. Now I had less than three weeks to pull it together. Yet I knew it needed to be done. I felt that urging within my heart that I’d come to know only too well. No pun intended.
I typed away almost every waking moment on the long train ride home to Arizona. After three days it seemed like I was getting nowhere. Then the inspiration I so desperately needed began to flow. I was typing 15 hours a day, listening Christian rock, mainly Newsboys, most of the time. A story was unfolding within my mind. I wasn’t sure where it was even going but I kept on typing. I was both the author and reader all rolled up into one.
All the while my wife was editing only a chapter or so behind me, providing me with feedback when needed. I’d never felt so inspired. The two apparently different story lines were melding into one great story. It was all starting to make sense, yet it was a story I’d never truly envisioned. Never in my wildest imaginings had I foreseen the story flowing in this direction. My characters were in control, I was merely chronicling their adventures. A tale of the two witnesses as seen through their own eyes; incredible.
Then came that last day, that Friday when the completed book was due. The story I had before me worked. It was logical, it was edited, yet something was missing. It was like it lacked a part of its heart. It wasn’t ready. I informed my publisher of that. I was given the weekend plus two business days to give the story that missing spark of life it needed. That spark of life, that heart, became chapter 16. On Sunday that heart was complete and the original story plus one more chapter was sent through the email. I cannot emphasize enough how important that one chapter was. The work was done, the book series was complete. My task was done.
A TRUE MIRACLE
But allow me to digress for but a moment. When I was 18, like so many 18-year-olds, I thought I had the whole world figured out. I was studying chemistry in college, peering into the very nature of matter. Yet my vision of the universe lacked one thing; God. In my haste and arrogance I’d forgotten God but He hadn’t forgotten me. That was the year of my near death experience, and it changed my life. It was a rough thing to go through, but it left me with no doubt as to who was in charge. He saved my life that day. I discovered his mighty power and his awesome love. I’d been spared for a reason. There was a purpose for my life. Yet it took me thirty years to discover exactly what that purpose was. Now, forty years later that mission seemed complete. I was ready to go home.
It was the day after my 58th birthday, September 7. 2012, that I found myself in the hills above my small Arizona town, gazing up a steep trail. I hadn’t been here in years. At the age of 25, on a dare, I’d forged up that hill with my best friend. Who could make it to the top without stopping? We both made it, but we were panting like a couple of hounds on a hot Arizona day by the time we reached the top. Now here I was, 33 years and a heart condition later.
“Climb!”
It was almost an audible voice and I knew its source. I would not dispute the issue. I climbed.
That trail was a lot rougher and more rugged than I’d remembered. I wasn’t supposed to be doing things like this. A picture of my overtaxed heart exploding came to my thoughts more than once. Still I climbed. Much of the sojourn became a blur. Then I was rounding the top of the rise and a majestic view of the whole valley rewarded my sight. More than that I’d found my second wind. I continued on, my hands upraised. It was a miracle.
The true miracle became only too clear when I sat in my cardiologist’s exam room the next week. She looked at my charts; then she looked again. No, there was no mistake My heart function had improved, improved a lot. My heart was almost normal. The supposedly irreversible damage had been reversed.
During the months that followed I enjoyed still further improvement. I haven’t felt so good in years, many years. The book had to be finished and our Father knew how to motivate me. Now I’m on the road again, reaching the lost with my books and encouraging those who already know the good news. Out on the road I look with anticipation for the next miracle and I am never disappointed. This is what I do, this is my mission. The age of miracles has just begun.
EDITOR’S NOTE: You can get author Kenneth Zeigler’s book Final Conflict here:
About Kenneth Zeigler
