PART EIGHT – Day 888 to Victory (cont.)
The reader may recall that when Marilyn and I decided, in June of 1993, to enter the mutual funds market, Marilyn heard, “Quarter million to a million.” We took it that the Lord was going to quadruple our investment and that He would do so in the mutuals or the stock market in general. We thought, “Wow! Quadruple? In how much time? After taxes? That is really something!” I had the thought it would be accomplished in seven years, which, on the stock market, made no sense.
At some point, Marilyn also prophesied that our losses in the stock market would be “penny-nickel” compared to the gains. Losses? What losses? When? Why losses? Furthermore, she prophesied that I would come to the place where I would care only about the Lord and His concerns, caring nothing for money.
Our investment went from $280,000 to $350,000 in less than a year, then by the end of 1994, dropped to a frightful $250,000. We were devastated by the loss, especially when thinking we had heard from God on this matter and assuming He would prosper us. Thus began the quarter million prophesied, though we didn’t know it at the time.
We were abused by our brokers (though not personally) who, while posing as caring and capable, were anything but; certainly not for us. They were simply hardnosed, self-serving, even cynical financiers after gain. They were sorely using us.
However, God had all this under full control. He used the whole process of mutuals to cure me of loving mammon. He gave me a severe spanking for whoring after gain, and he used these brokers and a sound defeat in the stock market to do it (they were His servants “for evil, for good”). I had entered that world of greed and fear, thinking that because I was a Christian, I could weather anything it threw at me. How wrong I was! I had no business whatsoever being there. “But you, O man of God, flee these things,” counseled Paul to Timothy (1 Timothy 6:10-11).
Play with fire and you get burned, especially if you are the Lord’s.
But here is something even better than finding ourselves wrong and rebuked for it, which is good. I found some remarkable dates related to these events. It was on June 21, 1993 that we first spoke to Bill Welton, the broker, about going into mutual investments. It was June 21, 2000 that the Benson estate was settled and technically, effectively handed over to Trevor and Mark. As you can see, these two events were exactly 7 years apart to the day.
The estate being settled, we tallied our assets and found that whereas we began with a $¼ million, we now had $1 million in precisely 7 years. Do you recall, reader, the prophecy I once had somewhere in the late 80’s? The Lord said, “I will destroy your enemy from off the face of the earth, you will look and see him no more, and I will give you his goods.”
In His mercy, even while chastening, God kept His promise and prospered us. There is nothing wrong with wealth. It is a matter of how one gets it, why one gets it, and what one does with it.
Through a remarkable sequence and combination of events, Trevor had been sent packing from our midst and thus happened to spend some time in a motel in BC during a snowstorm where his father chanced to be. After some reconciliation, Trevor and Mark were reinstated in Howard’s will. They had been excluded from the will because of their involvement with me, whom Howard condemned as a religious fanatic, and he swore Lois would receive nothing of the estate if he could possibly help it. Because I had expelled Trevor, Howard then saw him as acceptable to reinstate in the will, along with Mark, who was still in Japan.
And all this came by Carol Reesor’s suggestion to Howard that he reinstate his older sons, which she said she later regretted when it turned out that Jason, the youngest, received nothing because killing his father. All was left to the wife Howard hated and a “cult,” namely yours truly, through Mark and Trevor, who returned to be with us.
Who can possibly argue that these events aren’t divinely ordained? Who can argue that I haven’t been hearing from God or that God isn’t with me? Who can argue that God doesn’t keep His Word? Who can argue that he or she is in control of anything?
Dear reader, we are in control of nothing – not including people in our midst, not excluding them (as I did Trevor), not snowstorms or any weather, not times, motels, wills, choice of executors, sizes of estates, stock markets, courts, sentences from a judge’s mouth, gain, loss, prosperity, not anything.
Would you like more? More you shall have! The day Carol Reesor’s grip on the estate was broken was 3 years precisely to the day I met her at Ferintosh, AB, when she coldly met us. You will also recall that the day Howard was slain was 9 years to the day of the signing of the divorce papers with Lois. This June 21st day of 2000 is also 88 days after the 3½ year anniversary (March 24th) of Marilyn’s prophecy.
Was it not Shakespeare who once wrote, “All the world is a stage and we are merely actors”? Surely, this is so! His knowledge, understanding of human nature, laws of the universe, and skills have often amazed and delighted me.
But perhaps an even more awesome timing is about to be unveiled. Those who argue against the existence of God have some explaining to do. Just you wait.
Who says there is no God?
Given true prophecies and visions Marilyn had, and often good counsel, one can see, at least in part, why I would have solemnly respected her and her perspective. I, however, am not at all saying I was justified in looking to her as to God.
Then things changed. Along came a devil, the seducer, the subtle beast. Marilyn rejected her head and, falling, prophesied both true and false. She gave herself over to all evil and was now degenerated to a loathsome creature full of venom, despising all things godly, righteous, true, holy, and pure. Sean, as a deceitful angel, was of the same mind and will. And the two hadn’t repented. They only tempered the expression of their thoughts in order to further their ambitions. And so it had to be.
On June 22nd, I wrote Marcia Hagedorn and delivered the letter to their trailer at the back of our Moon River property. It was a friendly letter but spoke of judgment (correction) and even severity to come. I liked to think I wrote it in order that she and her husband might know the Lord and represent Him as He is, no sitting on the fence, but I think I wrote it because she wasn’t acknowledging my station in the Lord. Marcia didn’t like the letter at all and broke off any contact with me thereafter.
“With the prophecy I gave them, they will immediately go to Bill Roycroft for comfort and counsel. They will reject and avoid me like the plague (which always hurts), and Roycroft will smoothly lead them down a garden path of reassurance, thus in the sweetest and most ‘Christian’ of ways, condemn me as a false prophet. So often has such occurred, and I have had to go on, while those who withstood me perished or suffered those things prophesied of them.”
Concerned about Hagedorn’s reaction, I recalled that Marcia had lied to me. She played games. When I was concerned that I had inflicted unwarranted fear in them, the Lord told me not to respect the fearful. Marcia’s friendliness had been somewhat put on.
I am in the Fire; I live and walk in the Fire; this is Judgment Day, the “Day of the Lord, great for the righteous and terrible for the wicked.” Of course, there’s going to be fear upon the fearful and the wicked and upon those who live carelessly, who vainly profess that they know, love, and serve God. This is the hour of trial, reckoning, and exposure. The fire comes to reveal and to purge. Reality to the unreal is a fearful thing.
They didn’t expect to come in contact with God, Who comes in me. They have stumbled on the Stone rejected by the builders of the kingdoms of this world. They have been led to believe men of God to be other than as they are and are therefore shocked to meet a real one. They’re afraid, and only in genuine faith and repentance is there hope for their redemption.
Was it my place to vote? Many would say that it is, that the privilege was purchased with the blood of our nation’s soldiers fighting for democratic freedom. I’d been debating whether or not I should vote for Preston Manning, who was running against Stockwell Day for the leadership of the Canadian Alliance Party of Canada.
I saw Stockwell as somewhat disingenuous, a bit of a braggart and showoff, unlike Preston, though he professed faith in Christ (as did Preston). Day boasted of having balanced the Alberta provincial budget and cutting taxes as qualifications and proof of his abilities, but were those accomplishments worth respecting when the Alberta government was awash in oil revenues? Preston didn’t strike me as one who would cite such points to promote himself.
I ended up voting for Preston, and he lost. What did that say about God’s will for me in voting? I considered this matter for some time and would, by God’s grace, come to a conclusion.
I see politicians and so-called Christian ministers who command respect with people. They know how to handle themselves and others. They are well spoken, well groomed, well dressed, sociable, classy, and often popular. Yet I look again and I see unrighteousness, pride, presumption, vanity – and their words are hollow.
Then I think, “Am I critical? Am I suffering a bad case of Sour Grape Syndrome? Are not all men in wrongness, including me? How then shall I criticize?” But God many times before has chosen vessels of honor and of dishonor and arranged them one against the other, the vessels of honor being very few and those of dishonor being very many. Those of honor before God are dishonored by men and those of dishonor among men for His Name’s sake are greatly honored by God.
I was troubled, not knowing what to do. The Lord spoke, saying, “Believe.”
On June 29th, Les Mills came to talk. He told me of the problems his sons, Craig and Grant, were having. I candidly told him I was so frustrated, wishing I could help him, his sons, the Knorrs, and others. Les said to me, “You know how I see you? As a man who has the goods and nobody wants them.” (He meant it as a “positive negative,” in that he said, “I’m not trying to build you up or anything.”)
As we visited, Jonathan called from the farm, saying, “Dad, I think I just had a prophecy: ‘There is a king over a kingdom, over the land, but there are no people in the kingdom, in the land.’”
Only half an hour earlier, Marilyn had heard these words about me: “I will put him in his place.” I took those words as negative, coming from her own fretting heart, but now I see them as a possible positive prophecy from God.
I was then reminded of a poem I had written in 1991, saying that all I see around me are paupers – diseased, starving, and naked – while I had great wealth and nobody to share it with.
Les informed me that he had been talking to an RCMP officer in Yorkton, SK, who told him (inadvertently, it might seem) that, six weeks prior, RCMP officers in Stettler, AB were found to be drug dealers. This served to confirm, from an entirely independent source, what Jason Benson had told us three years earlier about his father being in league with an RCMP constable and perhaps other RCMP officers, importing marijuana from BC and dealing it.
Les told me he and his family had finally purchased another farm operation, this time in Jansen, Saskatchewan. I was quite disappointed, having hoped for better things and directions for them. They are going for loss, failure, judgment, suffering, and correction.
Upon our request, Bob Fife flew out from Toronto to participate in sorting out matters with Sean, Marilyn, and the rest of us.
I talked to Bob about his possible culpability in our situation, not to deflect blame from any of us, but because, as a parent, he left his wife for men when Sean was but a toddler, which, I believed, had an impact on Sean. He red Man of Sin 2, the letter of changing authority at the farm, and the February 1998 prophecies. I told him I believed Sean was a sociopath, having but a conscience of convenience, not recognizing rights and differences, and not respecting the authorities of others.
On July 1, 2000, when Bob Fife had come for Sean, Jonathan had a vision. He saw six light yellow “fluorescent” lights joined together and two dark red ones joined, but separated from the six. He said the six light yellow were good, the two red bad or evil, that the six good were him, the Bensons, Bob, and me, while the two evil were Marilyn and Sean. He told us this vision. Then, on the way home, with Marilyn, more came. He said the two red were once black but were changing, on their way to white… hope, redemption in process.
He also had a prophecy on July 2nd: “We tend to take the belt off to tighten the pulley bolts but we needn’t take off the belt; just tighten the bolts.”
As with most prophecies, I had no idea what it meant.
For some landscaping, I needed gravel, which was delivered on July 4th by Mikola Ponomar, a Ukrainian truck driver of MP Crushing. He commented on my name and where “chuks” came from (the western part of Ukraine). His origin was Cossack. He said that my part of Ukraine belonged to Romania from approximately 1920 until 1940. The town of my area was Buchovania. He also said his mother’s name was Ahafya, which I believe is from the Greek, “Agatha”; this was an apparent further confirmation of what I discovered of my name.
Bob spent the day with me, helping with the landscaping and talking. I shared many things with him – doctrines, Scriptures, and things that were happening with us. I talked to him about Audrey, his past, the impact on Sean, and the possibility of reuniting with Audrey in full repentance of the past. He was open and desirous to make restitution in any way possible. When he talked to Audrey, she rejected their reuniting. Bob left it at that.
He marveled at Sean’s hardness, which he saw for himself. He wanted to have a good talk with him and wanted me to come to the farm and talk things over with everyone.
On July 6th, Sean informed me that on the 12th day of his fast (he had been fasting in his turmoil), he received that he was to believe the prophecy. He told me I didn’t believe the prophecy because I was in unbelief or was in unbelief because I didn’t believe the prophecy. He was at his arrogant best. Trevor, Mark, Lois, Bob, and I withstood him, but it was of no use. Marilyn was so impressed as to be moved to tears by Sean’s stance. She said she heard, “Nothing will happen today, and God is judge.” Bob flew back to Toronto on the 7th.
Sean still remained, and we struggled to know what to do. The Bensons and I talked. Trevor counseled that I no longer wait to kick Sean out. None of us felt there was any choice but to send him away. This was so strange; I was so reluctant, and I didn’t see that I could “let it happen” any longer, that is, I believed I would be grieving the Lord if I waited any longer.
On the night of July 7th, I had a blessing for Mark. I declared peace and rest, as a little boy curled up in his Father’s lap, to relax, trust, and not try to do and be, but to trust comfortably, to let his Dad stroke his head.
Mark didn’t believe or receive these words with his mind. He continued to labor, but the Word went directly to his spirit and would effect that for which it was intended.
On July 8th, I was given to man our Harvest Haven booth at Coaldale “Settler Days” with Mark. We found ourselves next to John Schussler and his marketing manager, Gerald Anderson, who were promoting Bridge Berry Farm jams.
I red the label on their jams, which said, “Made with all-natural products.” Having written to John about this in 1998, I reminded him of that letter. They were promoting their jams with the suggestion their product was entirely healthy for the consumer. But was it? John used conventional herbicide to kill weeds in his berry orchards and bleached, refined sugar in his jams. The label was true, but it was misleading. Yes, the saskatoons were “all-natural,” but that was about it. Other less desirable elements were there and the label didn’t say they were, referring only to that ingredient the people would be motivated to buy.
When I suggested to them that the labeling was misleading to the consumer, the marketing manager, a Mormon fellow, knowing I was a believer, immediately used a diversion tactic and quoted Scripture, which seemed disconnected from the subject at hand. They weren’t about to listen to me. Their agenda wasn’t to produce wholesome food or to be perfectly honest with consumers. It was to make sales and profits, period.
At some time I had said to John that he needed to do things right, that is, organically, and that he needed to be honest with people. Anything else would not work. He ignored me. We would see where John’s enterprise would take him or, more accurately, where the Lord would take him and his business.
Trevor called to tell me that Satan himself was who Sean was. This agreed with all that I had received, that devils dwelled in him and that he was the enemy of all that was holy and good. There was the prophecy that Sean would go out as a devil, and he denied my right to life in any capacity, even as a person.
Then Lois informed me Marilyn had confided to Sean of her sexual life before she became a believer. This woman was so vile, she would stop at nothing in her degeneracy. But why the surprise? Does the saint expect virtue from Satan’s bride?
Today, on July 10, 2000, the third anniversary of my covenant with God to lay down my life, Marilyn was exceptionally impudent, antagonistic, sarcastic, angry, insulting, and blasphemous. “I’m all wrong,” she snarled.
“Yes, you are!” I replied (at one time I wouldn’t have admitted or declared it so).
“You have all the answers,” she retorted.
“Yes, I do,” I replied with perfect frankness and conviction.
“I’m nothing but a wicked bitch,” she returns.
“Yes, you are,” I responded.
“I’m condemned!” she cried.
“Yes, you are,” I answered, not because I condemned her, but because if one is in sin, one is condemned: “There is… no condemnation to those who don’t walk in the flesh.” If one walks in the flesh, which she did, then there must be condemnation.
“God is judge,” she declared.
“Yes, He is, and that’s what He’s now doing; I sit on the throne with Him,” I declared. I gave her verses to read, but she angrily refused them. They were Proverbs 9:8; 10:17; 12:1; 15:5, 10, 12, 31, and 29:1.
“Do not reprove a scorner, lest he hate you; give to a wise man, and he will love you” (Proverbs 9:8 MKJV).
“He who keeps instruction is in the way of life; but he who refuses reproof goes astray” (Proverbs 10:17 MKJV).
“Whoever loves instruction loves knowledge; but he who hates correction is like a brute animal” (Proverbs 12:1 MKJV).
“A fool despises his father’s instruction, but he who listens to correction is wise” (Proverbs 15:5 MKJV).
“Correction is grievous to him who forsakes the way; he who hates reproof shall die” (Proverbs 15:10 MKJV).
“A scorner does not love one who corrects him, nor will he go to the wise” (Proverbs 15:12 MKJV).
“The ear that hears the reproof of life shall remain among the wise” (Proverbs 15:31 MKJV).
“A man who hardens his neck when reproved shall be suddenly broken, and there will be no healing” (Proverbs 29:1 MKJV).
We had a Pyrenees sheep dog, Bullet, which Sean personally seized responsibility for caring. He once said it was like a son to him. Sean called to tell me that on this day, July 10th, it mysteriously died. Marilyn and Sean blamed Mark and me for it. The Bensons suspected it was poisoned by the neighbors. They had repeatedly warned Sean not to let Bullet wander, and he ignored their warnings, as with all else.
Trevor declared the death of the dog a warning to Sean that the Lord could have taken Sean. How did the dog really die? Trevor and Jonathan said God took him.
Sean grew bolder and more arrogant each day, and he and Marilyn were incorrigible. The Bensons and I were greatly grieved and knew the time drew near. On July 15th, Jonathan prophesied, “Cast out the devil, and you shall have peace.”
I tried to write Paul a letter. As I sat thinking, I realized a prophecy I had for him years before had come to pass. The Lord said He would hook him by the nose and lead him back where he came from. I found Paul in an illegitimate marriage, crying out to God, in Israel, for deliverance. I came, sent by God, and he was delivered.
But he continued, set on a wife all these years until the Lord gave him over to Kerri (the “dark one”), and now he was in an illegitimate marriage (fornication) once again. When he chose to marry Kerri, I told him that she would lead him around by the nose as she pleased, that he would be under her power, and so it was. At the time, I hadn’t made the connection to the prophecy.
Pascal Gregoire, an immigrant from Belgium living in Raymond, Alberta, came to Harvest Haven looking for organic food and work. He had a striking resemblance to Rowan Atkinson, the actor playing “Mr. Bean.” Mark brought him to Henderson Lake Park where we met to talk about spiritual matters, which Pascal was enquiring about. I had four things to say to him at the visit:
God comes before all else;
He will provide [Pascal and his wife, Ingrid, were feeling the pressures of financial needs with two toddler children (twins) and another coming];
the solution is not in self-devised circumstances [he was focused on self-sufficiency];
God is sovereign over all things, both good and evil.
I believed Pascal might have to forsake his wife, because I didn’t believe theirs was a marriage made in Heaven. Her parents were opposed to it, and she was in rebellion to them.
Mark, Jonathan, and I visited them on the 18th of July and I spoke to them of their duty toward their parents and how they needed to make amends, having married against their wishes.
Perhaps some time in this month, Marilyn had a vision. In it she saw a silver candlestick, standing by itself, surrounded by sand, which was collapsing. All in the world was collapsing except for the candlestick, which Marilyn took to represent the Lord. I believe the candlestick represented the work of the Lord, the work He was doing with us; that which was not of Him wouldn’t survive the fiery trial.
I was hoping the Lord would deal with Marilyn and Sean. I asked the Lord to take Sean out. Lois suggested she would do it. Bob Fife was urging me to do it. I also thought Marilyn would have to do it, given the dream she had, wherein she was, in the Name of Jesus Christ, commanding the trespasser, who was making himself comfortable and bewitching all of us, to leave.
So many times, when faced with certain people with whom I had a conflict or who I knew needed to be told something, I would pray and ask the Lord to do something or speak to them. Invariably, He would say, “What do you think I have you for?” Jonathan had another prophecy, and it was, “You kick him out.” I knew it was up to me.
Jonathan and I took a trip to the mountains and decided to drive to Cranbrook, BC where Evan Yurkoski lived. We got to know him somewhat over the past year. He was paranoid and dreadfully caught up in conspiracy theories, imagining he was being followed, wiretapped, and surveilled by the RCMP and the Illuminati. He refused to have anything to do with the internet for fear of being monitored and did various things to act the clandestine, courageous, sacrificial, pious, clever fugitive from widespread high-powered tyranny and injustice.
Evan had a compulsion to push his beliefs on people. He reveled in making hundreds of copies of VHS tapes from The Prophecy Club and other sources, dealing mainly in conspiracy theories, and handing them out to anyone who would take them.
It was rather obvious Evan’s wife, Bernice, and their children, Cherie and Jason, were ashamed, contemptuous, and cynical of him, and scarcely withheld expressing their feelings before us. (Cherie had a set of nine-month-old twins.)
Evan took his wife’s attitude with offense and called her a “Jezebel spirit,” never to her face (at least not in our presence), but privately. To us, she was quite friendly, treating us as guests, though she didn’t profess faith in Christ. Evan didn’t seem capable of holding down a job while Bernice, a registered nurse, appeared the stable breadwinner of the home and paid the bills. He took advantage of “Jezebel’s” occupational dental program when he needed a dentist.
Evan wanted me to meet a fellow at a restaurant who was very much into conspiracies, reading ominous messages into so many things in everyday life. His name was David Olynick and he happened to be originally from my home town, Dauphin, Manitoba. I had gone to school with his younger twin brothers, Jack and Jim. David seemed to have found his reason for living as the discerner of the evils closing in on all of us and the watchman warning all. What were we supposed to do about the encroaching evil empire? He didn’t know.
So many people think they can prepare for when the widely-expected, tyrannical One World Government takes over by finding some end-time farm or moving to the wilderness and living off the land. Some think Canada is the place to be, some South Africa, Israel, Papua New Guinea, Costa Rica, or Montana.
Why doesn’t it occur to them that there’s nowhere to hide? Who will protect them? Where will they get their supplies? If farming is an option, will they know how? Olynick and Evan had no inclination to place their faith in God, Who alone can be a sure refuge. They didn’t have a clue!
We stayed an extra day with the Yurkoskis, partially because Jonathan wished to and partially because I didn’t feel free to leave.
On July 22nd, Lois called, crying (I was expecting a call). “He goes [meaning Sean] or we go.” She wasn’t giving me an ultimatum, but simply declaring that they couldn’t take the trouble anymore. Sean, she said, was riding high, barking orders, tyrannizing them, while Marilyn supported him. At that moment, something settled in my heart and I vowed the time had come. I would be returning, likely today, and things would be taken care of, once for all. I said, “Lois, be at peace. I understand, and I’ll take care of it, be assured.”
I discussed the matter with Evan. He had a Word for me, that there would be victory and peace (words to that effect). Bob Fife also called Lois and said, “Sean has to go.” He was prepared to come and get him.
Within hours, Jonathan and I headed back to Lethbridge. Moon River Estates, our home, comes up about 35 minutes before the farm as we head east. It was getting late, approaching 9 PM and Jonathan’s bedtime. I wondered if we should go home, have some rest, and go to the farm in the morning to deal with Sean. “No, Dad, we need to go to the farm and kick Sean out now,” Jonathan insisted.
“Son, are you sure? Is that the Lord telling you that?” I asked. “There’s no need to hurry. We can go home, get a good night’s sleep, and head to the farm tomorrow morning.”
“No, Dad. I feel very strongly that we have to do it now. We can’t wait.”
I again reminded him of the possible repercussions, like Marilyn leaving, but Jonathan remained firm. We arrived at the farm close to 9:30 PM. Marilyn immediately led me to the corral where was a rarity, an identical set of calves, twins.