Tombs cont.

What a great day I was going to have. I ran almost all of the way to the lake. I remember arriving at the lake and waiting for my friends to arrive. I wasn't waiting for long when the voice, no, the voices started. There was more than one voice and each had a very different sound. I could clearly tell them apart. They started telling me all kind of stuff and then they would talk to each other. When they talked back and forth I had no idea what they were saying. In fact, I don't really know that you would call it talking. I guess the only reason I thought they were talking back and forth was when one noise stopped another would begin. It was really scarring me. When they talked to me I would understand every word and then I wouldn't understand a thing.

What I want to tell you now is what my mother told me. These are the things she saw at home and later by the tombs. That day i went to play was the last day that I was OK, or normal, or whatever you want to say. But things changes real fast that evening. Instead of being home to eat I was late. My mother told me she knew something was wrong when I didn't get home to eat. She heard me screaming and crying way down the road and she ran to see what was wrong with me. She said I was all covered in blood and that my hand was smashed and my fingers were broken. In my tears I told her all about the voices and how long they have been troubling me. I told here that the first time I hit my hand it was not an accident.

From the Tombs cont.

But then the voices started. It was just a whisper in the beginning. I would be busy playing or doing the chores my mom gave me to do and then the voice would come. It was like somebody bent down real close to my ear and whispered softly to me. It was so quiet that their breath was as loud as the words I heard. I resisted the words that came into my head for a real long time. The thoughts from the voice scared me. The voice would come and I would stiffen and clench my fists and tell myself that I wasn't gonna listen.

I don't really remember how long I was able to keep fighting the voice, it seemed like a long time. I do remember the first time I listened to the voice. I mean, I listened before, but this time I let the voice stay in my head. I was down by the lake playing. I was throwing stones in the lake. I liked to throw the big stones in because they made a big splush sound.As I was throwing stones the voice came whispering in my ear. The voice came again this time a little louder. I tried to stop, but then I listened for a moment.

"Go Ahead, it won't hurt. Hit yourself with your stone. It won't hurt, hit your hand just a little. It won't hurt I tell you, go ahead." the whisper seemed warm and I listened. I remember hitting my hand across my knuckles with the stone. The pain shot straight up my arm and my mind was hollering at me, "That was wrong, that was wrong, you should have never listened." I was crying and my knuckles were all bloody. What was I going to tell my mom? I had never lied to her before, but I had to. How could I tell her about the voice that had been whispering to me?

Prayer

The Prayer

Praise takes wing as Monarch or Swallowtail,

Bright colorful wings move past the Daisy and Lily.

Her fluttering wing guiding her past the sweetness of the Lilac and the Morning Glory.

In her flight of glorious sights she lands, ever so gently on His powerful arm.

He is pleased with her beauty and He smiles.

Intercession moves as the Eagle, soaring on the power of the draft.

Acute, perceptive and penetrating eyes focus on every path and road.

Every obstacle and hindrance is laid bare to his sight.

His eye seeks the right path.

He catches a greater draft, soars into the presence of the Maker of mountains and meadow.

The Creator looks into the eyes of the Eagle.

He Knows, and His right Hand moves.

From the Tombs

Have you ever thought about dying? My death would be a relief. The silence of the grave would finally bring stillness to my soul so long wracked in agony and despair. Oh how I longed for the cool earth to cover, bury, smother the fires that consumed my mind. I wanted death to come and set me free. It wouldn't come. In fact, the more I yearned for its freedom the tighter the chains of my prison squeezed and twisted my mind.

I don't expect you to understand why I longed to taste the sweet freedom of death. To understand could only mean that you knew of my pain, that in some terrible and forsaken way you had been cursed as I have been. You also knew of the despair that every breath brought to me. That, somehow you had entered into a hell that was like mine. And if you understood, you must have found a way of escaping the chains and dungeon that you had been cast into. You must have found a power that could break the chains and set you free.

I wasn't always like this. I have glimpses, faint memories of my boyhood. A flash will come back, like some tease. Like a sip of water when thirst has dried out your throat. I remember some boyhood times; running and playing with my friends. We would go down to the great lake and watch the fishermen. I wanted to be a fisherman. With my own boat and nets, I would go out at night and cast my net. I would become the best fisherman on the entire lake. But then....

The Encounter

The air brushed past my cheek like a feather, ever so slightly touching my skin.

No noise, just movement.

Again it moved across my face, my senses heightened, ready to discern the presence.

Now stillness, nothing.

Stillness for such a long time, still nothing.

Perhaps it never was, my wish, my dream, my hope.

Closed eyes, closed out world, listen, sense.

Lids shut, the air moves again past my face.

A glow, faint, then growing brighter.

Eyes still closed, every cell, every sense in tune and anticipation.

The glow, now as bright as the sun fills me.

The air moves, growing stronger as it begins to push against me.

A Noise, like the movement of wings comes near.

Now with each sound of movement comes the rush of air.

And then the Voice, a voice like thunder in the mountains.

The words, " Behold the dwelling place of God is with men."

The Seraphim speaks and I tremble.