He was near death. Wasting disease his friends called it. Nutrition didn't help, nothing did. He had declined slowly, with rare moments of seeming health. But something was very wrong, mentally and physically.
Doctors were puzzled by his case, and searched their databases for causes without any answers. He had been put in a room near the nurses desk, then transferred to the intensive care unit.
His blood work was within normal limits--pretty good, actually. There was something going on that no one seemed to understand.
A nurse spoke about it. She was from the islands. She knew. Christians from her home had a legend. Certain people, otherwise healthy, would just waste away. Food didn't help, nothing did. They had a name for it. It was called the New Jerusalem Hunger. The only remedy was death or the rapture.
An attendant who had been to his room earlier had seen his Bible open on his bed. He had been reading Revelation, she said. "It's like that old song, he's got it bad, and that ain't good."
And I John saw the holy city, New Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. Rev. 21:2