Or in the middle. Growing up, my aunts/uncles would gather for their family reunion and argue ad nauseum, deep into the night about pre/post/mid -trib rapture. But aren't we told we don't know the day, or the hour, but only the Father knows?
When Q drops the hammer, it will have fallen. Until then, futurefagging just divides us. Look for the hammer, for the DECLAS, for the PAIN. Pray for POTUS. and dig.
It would be nice if the precipice we were on, were of the thousand years of peace. But I assume nothing, only look to the hills from whence comes my help.
And dig for fresh crumbs.