I watch from the side as the director counts down with his fingers… three… two… one. He points to the silver-haired man dressed in a navy power suit standing before a studio audience. The camera’s little light turns red.
“Hello again, Rod Shepherd here, and I’m your host of Beyond the Veil.”
He pauses for audience applause.
“Imagine, if you will, a woman with a story so strange, it sounds like something straight out of science fiction. But I can assure you, it’s one hundred percent true.”
I stare at him. No Rod. Africa.
“Today, we will hear her story on this episode of Beyond the Veil, where nothing stays veiled for long.”
Nothing but the financial statements.
“Please give a warm welcome to our special guest, bestselling author, faith healer, and renowned prophetess, Miriam Moran!”
I walk across the stage to applause and cheers and shake Rod’s slightly clammy hands. Ugh. He gestures toward the large wooden desk, and we take our seats.
“So glad to have you here today, Miriam. Tell me, what’s God been doing in your ministry these days?”
Stay calm.
“Well, I’m glad to be here as well, Rod. It’s been a while. And yes, God has been doing great things in my ministry.”
I pause for the audience applause. Don’t overshare.
“We just got back from Africa, where we had a tremendous move of God.”
“Ohh…Africa.” Rod grins like a Cheshire cat. What’s with that?
“Please tell us, dear; we’re all ears. What happened in Africa?”
“As you know, Africa is a dark, pagan country that needs the light of Christ. So we brought it. Signs and wonders. Miracles and healings. Demons cast out of people who were tormented night and day. Deliverance from generational curses. Untold thousands saved.”
The audience applauds again.
“Praise God, Miriam. That is wonderful. God is using you in a mighty way. What else?”
What else?
“Well, I gotta be honest, there is something else, but I wasn’t going to share it today. You know, the naysayers out there, the doubters and heresy hunters, always trying to tear down a move of God. But…
I pan my gaze slowly around the crowd. Every eye is fixed on me.
Rod chuckles. “Oh, Miriam! You’re teasing us! Don’t keep us waiting.”
“Well… okay. You will hear it here first.” I pause a couple of seconds more. The expectation hanging in the air is palpable.
“We raised a man from the dead.”
“Whoa!” exclaims Rod. “Fantastic!” The audience erupts in thunderous applause.
I’m going to sell a lot of books today.
“Tell us more, dear. We’re dying to hear all about it.”
“Well, so there I was in Lagos, in front of thousands of people, praying for the sick. People are being healed left and right, demons cast out, limbs regrown and all, when I see some people carrying a wooden box towards me. So I motion for them to come on the stage, and…”
I share a fantastic tale about a man who was hit by a train, leaving him in a pine box for three days. Until we raised him from the dead. Did we?
On the monitor, I’m startled to see a grainy video of a man climbing out of a wooden box, against a backdrop of thousands of people. And me, standing right there, helping him out. Nice work, guys. Thank God for AI videos.
I wrap up the story and wait for Rod.
“What an incredible story of God’s healing power being channeled through a willing vessel. A man brought back from the dead after three days, just like Lazarus. Just like Jesus. I really wasn’t expecting that.”
Sure Rod.
He gives me a wink and looks into the camera. “And speaking of resurrection, today only, for a small love gift of $99.95, Miriam’s latest book and video series, Channeling God, will resurrect your spiritual life.”
Oh, he’s good.
The director speaks into his headset, and the little red camera light turns green, going to standby at the perfect spot to run the promo.
A weedy guy with a guitar comes out to lead the audience in a worship song. I sip some coffee as Rod consults the director and one of the camera operators. They leave the stage, and Rod leans toward me and places his hand on my arm. Stay calm.
“You ready?”
“I’m ready.”
“You’re doing great, dear. We need to wrap up the next segment with a pretty bow, because we have another guest coming on after the next break.”
“Will do.”
He squeezes my arm, then pulls his hand away. Thank God.
The director nods at Rod and begins his countdown… three… two… one. The little camera light turns red.
The audience claps and cheers. Great crowd. Are they paid?
Rod smiles at me and locks eyes with mine. “So Miriam, as we talked off camera a moment ago, you mentioned an experience you had as a child.” No, I didn’t. What’s he talking about?
“So tell us about it, the time aliens visited you. You said you wanted to share it today.” Oh, he didn’t.
I squirm in my seat. I’ve shared this story many times, but I wasn’t supposed to tell it today. What’s he doing? It’s supposed to be about my Africa trip, not aliens. I see the faintest sign of a smirk as Rod waits.
I clear my throat. You asked for it, buddy.
“Yes, Rod, it’s true. I was visited by aliens when I was a little girl. And they kidnapped me.”
The audience gasps. They’re well trained.
“Just like Jonah in the belly of the whale, I was in the belly of their ship for three days.”
Rod holds up his hand. “Wait. You’re telling me you were not only visited by them but also kidnapped by them? Incredible. What happened next?” He gives me another wink.
“And before you continue, let’s be clear: They’re not really aliens, right? The alien manifestations are really demons in disguise; I think most believers know this. God’s Word gives no mention of aliens from other planets. Do you agree?”
Where’s he going with this? “To be honest, Rod, no. I don’t agree.”
His eyebrows raise. “Okay. We have a few minutes remaining. Please tell us.” I remember the upcoming break.
“Buckle your seat belts, folks, it’s going to be a ride.” A soft titter runs through the crowd.
“I was about eight years old, lying in bed, just getting over the flu.” Was I awake? I think so.
“I saw a shimmering light getting brighter and brighter, and I had to cover my eyes. I thought I might be dreaming, but then three shining shapes materialized right inside my room.” Was it three, two?
“Like Star Trek?” Rod interjected. Got to hit that sci-fi angle.
“Yes, like Star Trek.”
“So I must have passed out, because the next thing I know, I was in a dark room in their spaceship, chained to my bed, surrounded by aliens. They were the grey ones with large heads.”
Rod nods in encouragement.
“It’s kind of hazy, and I don’t remember everything, but I know they did a lot of poking and prodding. It wasn’t pleasant.”
The audience is glued to me. Making bank today.
“Then what happened?” says Rod.
“As I said, it’s hazy, but I was there for a long time. Then suddenly, I’m back in my bed at home. Like I was beamed back in. But I can assure you, they were definitely aliens, not demons.”
“If they weren’t demons, were they angels?”
I snort. Careful. “Not demons or angels. They were aliens. I’m convinced.”
I lean in towards Rod. “And I’m going to tell you something I’ve never told anyone before, because it sounds so unbelievable.”
Rod’s eyes grow wide. “A scoop?”
“You can call it that.”
He stands and addresses the crowd. “Dear saints, you will hear it here first, exclusively on Beyond the Veil, from the prophet herself. Tell us, Miriam, do you have a prophetic word for us today?”
“Not exactly a prophetic word, but a word from God. To me. Specifically.” I slow my speech and lower my voice as my brain scrambles. What do I say?
“To be honest, I’m not really sure how it fits into everything, and I’m still processing it.”
Rod resumes his seat. “Now you have to tell us. We are all ears.”
I look to the audience. “What I’m about to tell you is very personal. I didn’t learn until a few days ago…”
“You see, my husband Wayne and I were trying to add to our family but not having any success. And believe me, we really tried.”
I hear Rod snicker. I ignore him.
“I was content to accept that it was God’s will that I remain barren. But not so much for Wayne. So we go to a fertility clinic. I’m not getting any younger, you know, and the clock is ticking.”
There are exchanged glances and nods of agreement in the audience. Got them hooked. Reel ‘em in.
“So they did an ultrasound to check my egg count, and you know what they found?” I wait a few seconds for dramatic effect.
“Tell us!” shouts a woman in the back. I nod.
“There was nothing! Not one viable egg!”
The audience gasps, and I glance at Rod to see his jaw hanging nearly to the floor. That’s slightly exaggerated.
“I asked my doctor, ‘How can this be? I’m still in my 30s. I want a child. Please check again.’”
The doctor shook his head and said, “I have no idea how, but we can’t detect any. There may be a few left, but the odds of conception are virtually zero. I’m sorry.”
“We came home, and I sobbed for days.” I reach for a tissue and dab my eyes. A couple of ladies in the audience do the same.
Keep going.
“About a week later, I was in intercessory prayer in my bedroom, seeking an answer from the Lord. I agonized. I wept. Why God? Was there unconfessed sin in my life? Did I fail God in some way? Was it a generational curse?”
Then, like that still small voice that spoke to the prophet Elijah, I heard a still small voice whisper. I thought I might be imagining it at first, but then I heard it more clearly, and knew it was God. He said, “My daughter, you have not sinned. It’s not your fault.”
“Whose fault then?” I asked.
“Your eggs were stolen when you were eight years old.”
And at that very moment, I remembered the poking and prodding, and it started to make sense.
“Stolen? What did they do with them, Lord?”
“They were frozen, to be used over time.”
“Why?”
“They harvested your eggs because they planned to create alien-human hybrids. You were their best choice.”
Keep going.
I said, “I don’t understand, Lord. How can that be?” And at that moment I could sense his tangible presence in the room with me, very powerful and real. I felt his gentle hand caress my cheek, and peace settled over me.
He said, “My child, you were born with a special anointing, with a mantle you could pass on to your children.”
I said, “But Lord, I will never have a child now.”
I choke up a little and take another Kleenex. Real tears. Funny how that happens sometimes.
You could hear a pin drop. Every eye was on me.
Keep going.
I asked the Lord, “Did they succeed?”
“Succeed?” he asked.
“Creating alien-human hybrids.”
The Lord said, “They failed, every single time.”
I felt relief but also a sense of sadness. There would be no strange human-alien creatures. But also no child to carry on my lineage. And then he said:
“Except for one.”
I catch the director in the corner of my eye waving at me. He flashes ten with his hands and begins the familiar countdown. Rod pipes in, “That is quite a ride indeed. We will be right back after a word from our sponsor.”
And the sponsor today is me. Ka-ching!
The camera light turns green.
The singer comes back out with his guitar and leads the audience in another song. Rod gives me two thumbs up. “Wow, that was great. I’ve never heard that story before.” Neither have I.
“You’ve got the crowd eating out of your hand like a monkey feeding peanuts to squirrels.” Did he just call me a monkey?
“So we’re going to reschedule the next guest for tomorrow’s show.” He laughs. “Didn’t really want to discuss sneaky squid spirits today anyway.”
He reaches out to touch my arm again. I fumble with the tissue just enough to avoid his grip, and I blow my nose.
His grin wavers slightly, then he says, “The rest of the show is yours, dear.” I’m not your dear.
I freshen my makeup, glance at my Bible app, and watch the director count down with his fingers. The camera’s light turns red.
“Welcome back to Beyond the Veil. I’m your host, Rod Shepherd.”
Audience applause.
“If you’re joining us right now, today’s special guest is renowned writer, faith healer, and prophetess, Miriam Moran. She’s been telling us this most incredible story about a supernatural visitation she had as a little girl. A visitation so profound and strange that it changed the course of her life forever.”
“Miriam, before our break you told us how your eggs were harvested by aliens, and they intended to create some kind of alien-hybrid robots.”
I didn’t say robots.
“You say these egg thieves were not demons. They were not angels. They were aliens, full stop.”
“Can you tell us more?”
I sure can, Rod.
“So I ended with the Lord telling me the aliens failed in their plan. Except for one. And I wondered how alien DNA could be combined with human…”
“Yes, I wondered that myself,” Rod interrupts. “How could they?” I shoot him a look.
“Ahem… yes, please continue, dear.” Please stop.
“Anyways, I wondered how it could happen, and then I remembered the story in Genesis, chapter six. You know, about the sons of God having relations with women. Having offspring. The Nephilim.”
“My God!” Rod exclaims. “You aren’t saying…”
“I am.”
People in the audience are thumbing through their Bibles, a few nodding in agreement.
“So I believe the Sons of God were aliens. Not demons or fallen angels like most people believe. They mated with humans to create superhuman Nephilim giants.”
“And that’s why God destroyed the world with a flood.”
Mic drop.
Rod’s eyes are as big as saucers. Didn’t see that coming, did you?
“So I believe the aliens wanted to steal my anointing. Think how powerful these hybrid beings could be if they fused my anointing with alien technology?”
I wait for Rod to speak. It takes him a few seconds. “Tell me, Miriam, you said earlier that the Lord said ‘except one.’ Are you saying that one being was created with your eggs?”
“That’s what the Lord told me.”
“Do you know the creature’s name?” Rod asks. I frown.
“I mean, your child’s name?” Didn’t see that coming.
I take a deep breath. Think, think. Hanging on the back wall are banners with inspirational slogans and verses. One says “Celestial Blessings.”
“Yes, Rod, I do. Her name is Celestia.”
“That’s an unusual name. I wonder how tall she is?”
What a weird question.
Before I can reply, Rod says, “We may never know, but we do know that for the remainder of the show, we have a steep, or should I say, a tall discount on Miriam’s latest book and video.”
I see that little camera light turn green and realize I missed the director’s break cues. I bet sales are good.
Rod just sits there smiling at me. I think he’s pleased. I freshen my lipstick and listen to the guitarist lead in another song. Nice gig. Wonder how much he gets paid.
He finishes, and the director counts down to the last segment. The light turns red.
“Welcome back to Beyond the Veil. I hope you’ve enjoyed our special guest today, and her incredible tale. If you missed it, I encourage you to watch from the beginning; you will be shocked, thrilled, and thoroughly blessed.”
He looks at me. “Before we wrap up today, I want to ask Miriam to share a prophetic word with us. Miriam?”
Easy.
For the remaining minutes, I share scripture, exhortations, and general prophecies, the usual.
When I’m done, Rod looks into the camera. “That’s it for today’s show, faithful friends and listeners. As I promised, today you would hear something so strange you would think it was straight out of science fiction. You just did. And better, because it’s one hundred percent true.
He extends his hand to me, and we shake. Still clammy. “Give a warm round of thanks to our special guest, Miriam Moran, here on Beyond the Veil, where nothing stays veiled for long.”
The crowd claps and cheers, and Rod says a few words I can’t quite hear over the applause.
The camera light goes green, and the monitor switches to my last promo spot. Rod leaves the stage immediately without a further word to the crew or me.
What’s the rush, Rod?
I shake hands with the director and crew, then walk over to the risers to greet the remaining audience, a couple of dozen people. Some want to shake my hand and say hi; others ask for prayer or a personal prophetic word, and I do. Never hurts to be real.
A half-hour later, everyone is gone, save a couple of crew members tidying things up for the next show.
I wave and leave the studio. As I walk down the long hallway to the dressing room, I’m surprised no one is around. Maybe they’re all eating lunch, or they have hot dates or something. They didn’t invite me.
No matter. I’ll change and head home.
I reach the dressing room and lock the door behind me. I breathe a drawn-out sigh. Glad that’s over. As much as I love the lights and crowds, it can be emotionally draining.
I hear a rustle and catch a slight movement in the dim corner. Someone is here. Sitting in the chair. I thought everyone was gone.
My heart races. An intruder? Does he have a gun? Here to rob me? Kill me?
As my eyes adjust to the dim light, I see. Not a gun. Not a man. Not a woman.
A girl.
“Who are you?” I feel faint and sit in the nearest chair.
The girl stands and walks towards me. No, it can’t be.
“I’m Celestia.”
My God. She looks just like me.
“Hello, Mother.”
