No one can deny that the world is in trouble. Tragedy stalks our streets. Violence and bloodshed fill the news. How do we explain so much chaos? Is there any hope for peace in our time? Dr. David Jeremiah's dramatic narrative on the Book of Revelation answers these and many more challenging questions, by unraveling the imagery and explaining the significance of the events described in the last book of the Bible. Within its pages are the hope and encouragement we need to lift us from the gloom of present events to the promise of a brilliant future. CHAPTER ONE: Warnings Ignored C onvict Lake sparkled under the crisp winter sky of the Sierra Nevada. Surrounded by two-feet snow banks, the ice above crystal clear waters invited daring souls with a siren song of beauty. . . and treachery. Trained rescue people know a frozen mountain lake is the most illusive of natural phenomena. There is no such thing as "safe ice." It could be two to four feet dense in one place, but only a short distance away, pockets of warm springs bubbling under the surface might shrivel the thickness to a perilous few inches. On a cloudless day in February, fifteen teenagers and two counselors from Camp O’Neal, a residential facility for troubled youth, were on a holiday outing at the lake. What began as an adventure ended in disaster. Some of the boys stayed with Counselor Randy Porter on the breakwater by the marina, throwing rocks to break the shallow-water ice. Another group was about eight feet out on the ice, laughing and clowning around while Counselor Dave Meyers snapped pictures. At first no one noticed five boys who were headed toward the middle of the lake. When Randy spotted them, they were already far out from shore. "Hey, you guys . . . get back here. It’s dangerous out there!" His shouts fell on deaf ears. Far out on the frozen lake, the boys heard a loud crack and looked down to see the ice fracturing beneath them. One boy shouted, "We shouldn’t be doing this," and started back to shore. The other four boys forged ahead. "I don’t care if I die!" one boy shouted as he smashed the ice with his hiking boots. Within seconds, the four boys fell into the freezing water as the loud crack of the ice fracture echoed through the canyon. Muffled screams coming from the middle of the lake could be heard on shore. Counselor Dave dropped his camera gear and began to race toward the sound of those frantic cries. With each step the ice gave way under his feet. When Counselor Randy realized the danger, he immediately ordered the kids close to shore to get off the ice and instructed one of the wards to run to the ranger’s residence for help. Then Randy headed out on the ice himself. Dave reached the spot where the four boys had been hanging onto the edge of the ice, but only three were there. Shawn was gone. Without a wet suit, Dave’s jeans and sweatshirt were frozen stiff, but he plunged into the ice-water and pushed Phil to the surface and coached him to crawl on his belly to the north shore, some two hundred feet away. Phil survived, but his buddy, Sellars, was unable to move, his body frozen to the surface of the ice. Dave and another boy, Ryan, struggled for life as hypothermia gripped their bodies. On shore, Ranger Clay Cutter, caretaker for Convict Lake, had been called from his home by a hysterical boy. His wife, Teri, dialed 911 and reported to the emergency services dispatcher that four youths were "through the ice at Convict Lake." She told her three daughters, "Stay in the house," grabbed her binoculars, and headed to the lake that was consuming the lives of those caught in its freezing grip. She watched the entire event, including the valiant life-and-death battle her husband fought for the next forty-five minutes. MOUNTAIN RESCUE TEAM In a mountain home twenty-five miles from Convict Lake, the beeper sounded for Reverend Russ Veenker, a man trained in underwater search and recovery and a skilled scuba diver. A few moments before two of his friends, Doug Englekirk and Doug Nidevar, expert athletes themselves, had stopped to visit the Veenker family and hearing the urgent call, asked, "Can we help?" While Kandy Veenker rushed to the phone to alert other rescue team members, Russ paused for a quick prayer. "Lord . . . keep us safe." Prayer was SOP–Standard Operating Procedure–for Russ. He always prayed for the safety of the rescuers because many times they risked their own lives to save others. He knew that life-and-death situations were in God’s hands. "Get the rubber life raft and meet me at the lake," Russ instructed the two Dougs. He gave Kandy a quick kiss and hug. "Love you." This was also SOP. Kandy had great confidence in Russ’s wilderness abilities and God’s protection. But this time as he pulled out of the driveway, she felt oppressed by a vague presence of darkness. She began to pray more fervently. FROM FEAR TO PANIC Ranger Clay Cutter and Counselor Randy Porter watched helplessly as one boy slipped away under the