DESTIN opens with a Prologue that provides relevant backstory to John Striker that is relevant to the end of the book. He's at his palatial estate in Big Sky, Montana, and has been instructed by his friend and mentor in the faith to write his testimony in a journal and carry it with him in the event of his death. What follows is from the Prologue that provides John's testimony. I hope you enjoy the short read. -- DrZ

EXCERPT FROM: PROLOGUE      DESTIN | A JOHN STRIKER NOVEL        By: Dr. Philip Zimmerman [DrZ]

The day before John Striker got on a bicycle for the downhill extended ride from his estate in Big Sky, Montana, he placed a small, handwritten journal in a heavily protected, fire and waterproof package in a hidden compartment of his backpack. On the outside of the package was printed in English and Spanish.

IMPORTANT

IF I AM DECEASED OR SUSPECTED TO BE: Please Follow the Instructions “UNDER’ The Scratch-Off Square in the Package.

The journal contents were written by John three days before his bike ride. Three weeks earlier, he’d been drugged, beaten, and left for dead by a gang of off-the-grid squatters encamped deep in the forest that bounded the southern extent of his mammoth mountain ridge estate. 

My name is John Striker. If you don’t recognize the name, I’m good with that, as I’ve purposefully been living off the grid and in obscurity for the last two years. The six months before that, I was busy removing my visual and digital footprint from every digital device in the world. Look up my AI profile on Wikipedia, and you’ll find a highly edited dossier.

“If you are reading this, I’m assuming I am dead. If you’re not sure that I am dead. I’d suggest you put this journal exactly back where you found it. My backpack and this package are both under 24-hour video surveillance and tracked to within a meter via satellite. I’m not saying don’t read the journal; I’d consider it an honor if you did. Rather, read it and return it as soon as practical before it is discovered by me or someone else to be missing.

No matter if you’ve heard of me or not, I did exist at one time. The end of my worldly life occurred two and a half years ago. I was 33, on top of the world in nearly every category you could imagine, when my life was turned upside down. I was told by my mentor in the faith to write a testimony of my life, these past two and a half years, so that in the event of my untimely death, others would know from me, who I’d become. Or rather, whose I became.

I don’t know where to start, so I’ll start with some background that I hope makes sense as you move forward in my testimony. I was raised Catholic, quickly became agnostic, then an atheist as I pursued math and science. I accepted the Darwinian model of time, chance, undirected random mutation, and survival of the fittest to explain the variety of life and the origin of all life from a common ancestor. I lived as an atheist personally and vocationally until four years ago, when my unstoppable force of wealth and innovation encountered an unmovable object.

I created what I thought was a gift for all humanity, only to discover I’d crossed a line ethically, morally, and spiritually that was going to have me be eternally damned. At the time, I was keenly afraid of a God or gods, I didn’t even believe in. I didn’t know what to do. I would have killed myself, but couldn’t, as my death would result in a global catastrophe for reasons I can’t go into now.”

I was in a heap on my office floor, heaving and wailing cries and torrents of tears, asking the creator God I didn’t believe existed to save me and the world from myself and what I’d created. Here’s where it gets freaky for me even now as I write this. 

One moment I’m on my office floor, and the next thing I knew, I was on the Black Run ski lift at my Blue Diamond Resort, sitting next to a total stranger. I thought it was a dream. We chatted for five minutes before reaching the peak, where we were dumped and separated until the bottom of the run. It was on the run that I soon encountered our widow maker, a very steep Black slope. Still not knowing I wasn’t dreaming, I tumbled head over heels before being jumped on by one of our ski rangers. 

He didn’t recognize me —not that he should have —and got me back on my skis. He encouraged, and I didn’t argue, that he would lead me through a trail in the woods to our Blue slope run. He did it, and I completed it without further complications.

Once at the bottom, I fervently went in search for the guy I was sitting next to on the chair lift. I caught up with him at a large outdoor fire pit and found out he was a Jesuit Priest named Curtis Rabb. Right there in the wide open in front of everyone, I got on my knees and told him I desperately needed to confess a sin that I didn’t think even God could forgive if he did exist.”

I kid you not, as I was telling this Jesuit Priest my confession dilemma, a laugh launched from deep within him and spewed out steaming hot chocolate through his nose, from his mouth, and he even cried out, ‘I just peed my pants.’ It took him at least a minute to regather himself while I attended to the mess at the table.” 

As I was retaking my seat, he reached out his hand and took mine in a handshake manner. I looked him in the eyes, and it was as if the world stopped. I felt for the first time in as long as I could remember, peace. Then he said, “I know Jesus; everything is going to be OK, John.”

 I collapsed into my chair, still holding his hand, and realized I was immobilized by a bath of electricity running through my body. He continued, “Jesus heard your prayer in your office and wants to meet with you. If you’re interested, I’d be happy to make the introduction. You know my name. I’ll be staying at Blue Diamond through the end of the week.”

As soon as I let go of his hand, I was back on my office floor at my estate in Big Sky, Montana. While I should have been freaking out, I felt at perfect peace. I grabbed my laptop, pulled up the Blue Diamond guest log, and found his name. Then I freaked out. It took me another couple of hours to settle down and decide to drive up to the resort.

I got there a little past ten at night and walked right to his room and knocked on the door. He opened the door and greeted me with a hug, saying, “Jesus told me to expect you. We’re happy you’re here, John.”

We stayed up all night talking. In the morning, I cleared my schedule for the next month. I told my staff I was taking a thirty-day mental health rehab at Blue Diamond and was not to be contacted. They were to handle whatever came up. I didn’t leave the resort for the next thirty days.”

Curtis Rabb showed me the truth and the WAY to Jesus during a thirty-day St. Ignatius Spiritual Exercises retreat. I’ve never been the same since. It took me six months to walk out of the doors of fortune, fame, power, and influence of my own making. For the last two years, I’ve been on the road, traveling by any means and staying as disconnected from tech as possible. I’ve learned to be content in my circumstances, living by faith while following Jesus.

Two months ago, I returned to my estate to take care of some matters. While there, I took the opportunity to go camping at a favorite spot within walking distance of my home, down the mountain. The early evening of the first night out, I was ambushed, drugged, tied to a tree, and beaten by a small gang of off-the-grid squatters. They were after money and guns, of which they got both, and left me to die tied to the tree. 

Obviously, I didn’t die, but that’s only by the grace of God. I was found the next morning and am now nearly back to myself with only moderate pains here and there. My mentor and father in the faith, Curtis, came to visit me the morning I awoke, and told me that Jesus was sending me out into the world on a special assignment.

The details of that assignment have not yet been revealed to me. But I do know I’ll be leaving my estate in the next couple of days on a nice street-ten-speed bicycle that Curtis gave me. Curtis told me to trust the Spirit’s guidance on where to go and follow without hesitation. 

Four days ago, I went to a local jewelry store after a morning meditation session in preparation for the upcoming downhill ride. I surprised the girl at the counter when I said, I’d like to get a cross earring. For the rest of my life, I don’t want to be thought of as the man I used to be. Rather, I’m not ashamed to let anyone who sees me know whose I’ve become. I’m a ‘Doulos,’ a bond servant, a slave of Christ Jesus, my Lord, my God, and my Savior.

This might sound strange, but I didn’t find it coincidental that I’d been tied to a tree, beaten, and left for dead. Paul says of Jesus becoming a curse for us in Gal 3:13 – “Cursed is everyone who is hanged on a tree.” In my former life in the world, I deserved to be tied to a tree and beaten to death for what I’ve done. That still may come to pass. But in my new life, I’ve been crucified with Christ, and am not ashamed of the cross I carry on my own body of sin and death in the flesh.

When my body goes the way of all mankind and returns to the dust, I pray I will have been faithful to Jesus to the end. Longing to see the blessed hope, the return of my great God and Savior, Jesus Christ. 

Again, I pray I was victorious all the way to the end. Oh, how I pray God will be glorified in my life, and even more so in my death and the witness of his provision in all things. AMEN.

If I’m dead, please make sure to follow the instructions beneath the scratch-off box inside the parcel that contained this journal. If I’m not dead, please return the journal and parcel to where you found it. 

Expect me to look you up so we can have a face-to-face conversation, and I can fill in the details of what’s happened to me since writing this journal, and perhaps add to it.

Grace and Peace to you, 

John Striker

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