Faith Under Siege

Faith Under Siege

Micah Reed sat alone in his small, dimly lit apartment. The sounds of the city crept in through the cracks in the window: sirens wailing, machinery grinding, and the occasional outburst of angry voices. A Bible lay open on his table, its well-worn pages marked with ink and folded corners. The words of Jesus in Matthew 24 had become his daily meditation: "All these are the beginning of sorrows."

The world outside had changed dramatically over the years, but not in ways people expected. Technology advanced, but morality decayed. The systems governing society had become oppressive, a veneer of civility covering a heartless machine. Micah could feel it pressing against him every day—in his job, his church, and the community around him. Everywhere he turned, the weight of a broken world bore down on his spirit.

The Mental Health System

The mental health system, once seen as a place of healing, had become something far more sinister. Psychiatry ruled like an unfeeling monarch. Patients were treated not as people in need of care but as commodities to be managed, their diagnoses stamped onto their lives like brands on cattle. Autism, depression, psychosis—all labels became tools for control. The treatments offered were harsh, often experimental, and motivated by profit rather than compassion. The "therapists" and "doctors" had little concern for the outcomes of their patients. What mattered was that the machinery of the system kept turning.

Micah had seen it firsthand. His younger brother, Samuel, had been diagnosed with autism and depression. The treatments he endured were horrific—chemical restraints that dulled his mind, forced group sessions that broke his spirit. Samuel had once been a brilliant artist, but now he struggled to hold a pencil. The system had drained him of life, leaving him a shell of who he once was.

The Work Salvation System

Micah worked in the industrial sector, one of the few jobs available to those who refused to conform entirely to the new societal norms. The employment system was another oppressive force, designed to break the will of those who dared to question it. Jobs were assigned based on need, not skill or aspiration. The work was dangerous and demeaning—cleaning chemical spills, climbing unstable scaffolding, or relocating to remote locations with no notice. Those who refused were labeled "rebellious" and subjected to public scorn.

"Work is salvation," the system proclaimed, but Micah knew better. The jobs were traps, designed to strip workers of their dignity and isolate them from family and friends. He had seen coworkers fall to their deaths, their families given no more than a hollow apology and a token sum. The system consumed people and discarded them when they were no longer useful.

The Churches

Micah had once found solace in the church, but even that refuge had been corrupted. The gospel of grace had been replaced with a message of works and fear. Pastors spoke of sin with venom, turning the pulpit into a weapon against their congregations. Salvation was not a gift of God but something to be earned through toil and obedience to the church’s demands.

Micah had been a member of the largest church in the city, one that prided itself on its "reformative ministry." It was anything but. The church acted as an extension of the oppressive system, prying into the lives of its members and using their sins as leverage. Those who failed to meet the church’s standards were reported to authorities or sent to psychiatric institutions. The church’s influence reached deep, even into the justice system. Past crimes, long forgiven by God, were dredged up to extort compliance.

One man in the congregation, Thomas, had confided in Micah that he’d stolen from his employer years ago to feed his family. The church knew of his crime but chose not to report it—as long as Thomas worked tirelessly for their construction projects. When Thomas grew sick and could no longer meet their demands, they turned him over to the authorities. He was sentenced to ten years in prison. The church called it "justice," but Micah saw it for what it was: slavery.

The Mark of the Beast

The world grew darker with each passing year. The systems of control tightened their grip, and a new global authority began to emerge. Micah saw the signs. A digital economy was implemented, and soon after, the "mark" was introduced. Without it, no one could buy or sell. The mark wasn’t just a financial tool; it was a pledge of allegiance to the new order. Those who refused were labeled enemies of progress, outcasts to be hunted and punished.

Micah refused the mark, knowing its significance. He had read Revelation 13 and understood the gravity of the choice. It meant losing what little he had left: his job, his home, his ability to survive within society. But Micah trusted in the Lord’s promise, that those who endured to the end would be saved.

The Great Tribulation

As the tribulation began, Micah joined a small group of believers who shared his convictions. They lived on the fringes of society, hiding in abandoned buildings and scavenging for food. The world around them descended into chaos: wars, famines, plagues. The systems that once seemed invincible crumbled under their own weight, but the suffering only deepened.

Micah became a leader among the believers, guiding them with the wisdom of Scripture and the hope of Christ’s return. They faced betrayal, hunger, and the constant threat of death, but their faith remained unshaken. As the darkest days of human history unfolded, Micah clung to the promise of the Lord: "And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away."

The story of Micah Reed did not end in despair but in hope. Though the world around him fell apart, his faith remained steadfast. He knew that the suffering of this present time was not worthy to be compared with the glory that would be revealed in those who trusted in the Lord. And so, he endured, awaiting the day when the King of Kings would return to set all things right.