The One Where I Meet Jesus

Chapter 1- The one where I meet Jesus

    Winters in the 1980’s were rough.  The snow came up to my knees. Everything was white. The icey, cursed stuff was sliding down my boot, and the air whipped at my cheeks. My mom was leading the trail. Each of us kids tried to match her straide and fall into her footsteps. It was a good thing she was short. I know my mood was dark. In combination with this terrible weather and early morning, my mind could not wrap around the idea that I was out here tramping through a blizzard. Why? WHy? WHY? If my brothers or I would have asked she would have given the same answer. “It is Sunday. We go to church. After everything He has done for us we can give him an hour of our time.” 

    Mom knew something we did not. Going to church was never out of obligation. It was out of love. My mom loves Jesus with every cell in her body. She has told us about his faithfulness and goodness before we could talk back. I loved my mom and respected her so I went (usually ) without a fuss.

    I grew up knowing of Jesus. Where he was born and the stories of his miracles.  I memorized all the players, scenes, and right answers. But something was missing. Did my knowledge of Jesus change the way I lived? No. Did my memorized bible verses make any difference in the way I treated people or saw my choices? No. I believed Jesus was the Son of God, I went to church, I tried my best to make better choices. But was I a Christian- a Christ follower. No, I was not. 

    I did however attend a local youth group which was nice for a couple of reasons. It was fun to hang out and eat pizza. We would do exciting adventures. One day, the Pastor of that youth group, Roy Gearhart, asked us if we wanted to go to a camp called “One Way Camp.” After he explained it, that was a hard no for me. It was all about Jesus stuff. Eventually we caved and packed out bags for Wesley Woods Campsite in Northern PA. 

    It was like nothing I ever experienced before. Worship with people raising their hands and singing out with all their voice. But not just with the outward displays. I felt something stirring within me.  We sat down and listened. This man preached about a Jesus that was not just in the past, but a Jesus who wanted to be in my present and future. He spoke about how he loved me and was chasing me. But he would never force anything one. You had to take the final step. He had an alter call. For those of you unfamiliar with an alter call (and I was certainly one of them!) It is a time where the pastor asks if you want to dedicate your heart desires and life to our Savior.  Few teenagers went up. My feet felt planted to the ground. I looked at the friends who came with me. I looked around at all of the strangers. I started to breathe fast and tried to tell my legs to stand. But  I didn’t. They closed the service and we went back to our bunks. 

    I was devastated. I thought I had blown it. I told Jesus I was so sorry over and over. If I was presented with that choice again, I would do it!  I tried to quietly cry into my pillow. Had I know Jesus like I know Him now, I could have prayed right there and danced into the family of God.

    The next morning, I got up and ate breakfast, did devotionals, did camp activities, and I was just waiting for that moment. When it was FINALLY time for worship. I practically dove into that church building. This is it. During worship time I felt something stirring inside of me. All I could think of is where I need to be. Then worship was over and the same pastor came up to preach. Please, please I silently prayed. Have him ask again. I am so sorry for not doing it the first time but please give me another chance. 

    He preached and I have no idea what it was about. What I do remember was the moment he said “if you have never personally met with Jesus and desire to be a part of his family, just come join me at the altar so I can pray for you. “

    That is all I needed. I have no idea why I didn’t pick an aisle seat since I knew what I was doing. I “excused me” and tripped and stumbled out of the set of chairs. I didn’t look to my left or right to see anyone else coming. My eyes were fixed on that altar. When I got up there, I dropped to my knees and sobbed. Jesus showed up. Jesus became real. Not just a story or a threat to be good. He was real. A real person who wanted me. Who went to the cross for my salvation. He loved ME! I remember someone coming over and putting oil on my forehead and praying for me. I don't know what they said, but I know what I was praying.  I just kept saying his name over and over “Jesus, oh Jesus. Thank-you.” ALthough I can’t remember everything I said, I do know I said “Jesus I am yours. I surrender everything I am to you. However you can use me for more souls to find THIS, to find you, I want to do it.”

    After praying and praying and quieting my heart, I opened my eyes and stood up. When I looked I saw something new. Everything was clearer and sharper. It was like before I had a haze over my eyes and I never knew it. Surrounding my feet was an ocean of teenagers on their knees, hands raised up, or praying in larger groups. 

    For one second I felt fear. I had just told the maker of heaven and earth that I would do anything for Him. What will that look like? I heard a small voice speaking into my heart. It said “No matter what comes, I will be with you. Always, until the very end of the age.“

    I met Jesus that day. I can honestly say my life has never been the same since. Have I had ups and downs? Of course. But never, ever have I felt alone. It wasn’t flashy music because all the lights were dim.   It wasn’t the countless Bible stories I could recall.  It wasn’t a  good man by the name of Jesus knelt down with me at that altar. I didn’t hear a word. Everything around me became like a tunnel.  He took my hands and said “no more.”

On July 17, 1996, I gave my life, my “who I am” to my Savior Jesus Christ.

    So when I returned from that camp experience, it wasn't through the threat of grounding and a bad reputation that made me make purer choices. It was that love freely given when I had nothing to offer. I was his daughter in a Kingdom that has no end.

    One Summer afternoon, I was reading my bible in the backyard armed with a highlighter. In the past I have been told what the Bible said but this time  I wanted to go right to the source. Plus at camp, our leaders told us that God will speak through his word. As I was reading the new testament Gospels- the ministry of Jesus- I ran across a verse that immediately had me in tears.  In the book of Luke in the 10th chapter and 2 verses it reads like this...

 

He (Jesus)  told them ( his disciples)  “The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest field. “    

Finally I made a connection with my name! Theresa means Harvester! Forget those girls' names that mean beautiful or lily of the valley. I believe that God has a special name for each and everyone of us. No two are alike and yours is unique to you. You have a name in a language of praise we do not know of yet.  Isaiah 49:16 says “Behold, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands” 

    I found out who I am. I am the daughter of the Most High God. I am an ambassador of Heaven. He has plans that are too magnificent for me to even imagine. I know I am not where I should be, but at least I am heading in the right direction.

When Jesus Shows Up Everything Changes

Who Are YOU....

Introduction

1988

I pumped my elementary arms and legs as fast as I could as I raced toward my one goal. Shoving a sock down Jonathan’s throat. His laugh traveled back to me and seemed to cut razors into my skin which just drove me harder. Since we hadn't hit the years where puberty would make him taller, faster, and stronger than me, I easily caught him. But as an adult looking back maybe catching him would never be too hard. Isn't is funny how when you finally get your hands around what you want you aren't quite sure what to do with it? I grabbed his arms and brought my bright blue eyes right upon his dark brown ones. “Stop calling me toots,” I growled with my teeth grinding together. I had no idea where this name came from, what it meant, or even if it was negative or positive. What I did know is that I didn't like how it made him laugh every time he said it, so it must be bad. With a laugh and a quick jerk of his arms to free himself, he ran away yelling “whatever you say toots!” 

My name is Theresa. Theresa means “the Harvester.” Which isn’t all that exciting while all the other girls are seeing their names mean “beautiful” “Delicate one” or “sunny flower.” All I pictured was a farmer standing in the middle of the wheat covered field holding a scythe. Also, I am allergic to wheat so yeah…. The harvester wouldn't be on my top ten name pick. 

When my mom was pregnant with  me people would ask her if she thought I would be a boy or a girl. My mom answered every time with a grin and said “Not sure but we are naming her Theresa.” I once asked her what she would have done if my brother had been born first. Never really thought about it, was her reply.  I would be named after her cousin, Theresa.  Finally my moment had come. In Spanish class, we got to pick our own spanish name to use in class. HOWEVER, Teresa is a spanish name and so close that my teacher named me. Mom- one  Spanish teacher- one  Theresa- 0  

As my 10th grade English teacher  was handing back papers he would often remark, “Oh Red, Red, Red. I don’t know if I call you that because of the color of your hair or how much red pen I waste in grading your papers.”

Mr. Pickens was the first teacher to tell me I was an exceptional writer. Mr. Pickens gave 2 grades. One for content and one for mechanics. The mechanics grade was based on grammar, sentence structure, and SPELLING. I can’t spell my way out of a wet paper bag. My mechanics grade showed it. One time I misspelt the name “Henrey” through my entire paper on The Red Badge of Courage. I think Mr. Pickens used 2 pens that day.

Mr. Pickens loved my content though. He always told me how insightful and clever my analysis was. I wish I would have saved some of those papers. He always gave me a content grade so high that it would equal out with my mechanics. Mechanics 70 Content 130. Even though I was not a fan of my red hair, I let the nickname slide because it was funny and true. To say Mr. Pickens was rough around the edges is an understatement. He was often rude and crass and earned the ire of his students. I kind of liked him. I found him to be intelligent and more than a bit arrogant. His nickname to me was “Red.” He always said I liked the nickname. Maybe I felt unique and noticed.

That’s the thing about nicknames.  Or names in general. Names stick. They are what defines us in a way. It is almost like a first impression for anyone not standing in front of you. Some cultures will not name the baby girl or baby boy for a few years. They want to make sure the child and the name compliment each other.  Sometimes we as parents pick out our child’s name before we pick the spouse! 

    It all makes sense when you realize your very name is the answer to one of the most important questions this side of eternity.  

WHO ARE YOU?

And so begins the battle of life when each of us is trying to live up to some names and live in spite of other ones.  Which name is true? The “name” you were called as a child as you ran for cover. The one with the tone that says you aren’t enough.  The one announces you  at the graduation ceremony or the one whispered about behind your back.  

    For some of us, our names are tied into our reputations, families, accomplishments, and failures.  People will know of us many times before they KNOW us. For example, when I first meet people I often go into shut down mode. I don’t talk or lift my eyes up. Apparently, the first time my now best friend Jamie met me was at the school photocopier. It was jamming, and I was frustrated. I barely remember this episode, but Jamie loves to tell the world that after I left that room, she knew I was someone she was not interested in getting to know.  Thank goodness she gave me another chance.  Because Jamie is a best friend, fix your crown kind of girl, if she is introducing me to someone, she warns them I may be a bit “aloof,” at first but in the end worth the trouble.

    I had a dream. I was standing at a podium staring out at many familiar faces. I knew I was supposed to be giving a speech. I glanced down on the paper, and the only thing that was written was “Hello. My name is Theresa Demi.” I shuffled the papers and looked on the back of the paper. Nothing. My mind was screaming at me to start talking. I opened my mouth and whispered into the microphone, “Hello. My name is Theresa Demi.” I stopped. I stood there pulling at my shirt sleeves and gripping the pen so hard that blue ink was running through my fingers. 

The voice in my head bellowed again. Keep talking! I opened my mouth but didn’t know who should be coming out. Where was I? Did the people want to know about the girl who graduated in the top percentage of her class with a scholarship to a well known private school? Or should I tell them about my anxiety coping mechanisms that I have been using for years.  Did these people want Theresa who hung out with her friends (Clearly this was taking place pre-kids.) Did they want to know about the girl in my journals or the girl on the stage? Putting the broken pen down I clasped my hands together and looked up. “Hello. My name is Theresa Demi. I don’t know who I am.”

 Then I ran out of the auditorium. I heard voices behind me, but my mind was just screaming “RUN! They are going to find out. I ran straight into the dark library,  which is interesting that even in my dreams I know books bring peace. I couldn't touch anything because I had blue ink all over my hands. Besides, I didn't want anyone to know I was here.  I sat down on the steps. “Hello. My name is Theresa Demi. I don’t know who I am or why I am here. There has to be more.”  Then I woke up.

The Japanese say you have three faces. The first face, you show to the world. The second face, you show to your close friends and family. The third face, you never show anyone. It is the truest reflection of who you are. Does anyone know who you are? I could list off titles and accomplishments. I am a wife, mother, daughter, a sister, a second grade teacher, writer, a reader. Alan Moore wrote “You wear a mask for so long, you forget who you were beneath it”. 

   

It was the question of my conscious thought all day long. It was the cry of my heart. I came up with plans. I could ask others who they thought I was, but that ended up as a dead end when I realized that they could only know me as a result of what I showed them. 

   

I thought I was a good person. I worked hard at school. I went to church and church youth groups. But there was always the shadow lurking around pointing out each time I fell. Everytime I let my temper get the best of me,      the shadow wound around my legs. I tried all day being extra good to get the shadow to go away. I went to my library and my friend asked if she could borrow my notes to copy in her study room.  “Sure,” I said. A cold shill went up my back. “Isn’t that cheating?” It hissed hot air hitting my neck. “I was being a good friend.” “Always there an excuse,” it whispered as the tension built in my head. “If people really know you, how I know you, they would see how  revolting, repellent, and  repulsive your very soul is.  Then a thought occurred to me. Who is this shadow? Is this my conscience? What if what it said was true.  As my head hit the pillow that night, I said “Hello. My name is Theresa Demi. And I don’t think I want to know who I am.” 

    Heaven heard my call. I don’t even know if it could be a prayer.  Before I drifted in between dream and awake. I heard this voice before although I couldn’t place it. “I know who you are. I will tell you.” I felt relief with a side of fear. But I have  to know. 

A plan was already rolling

The bleeding woman

Luke 40-48




*** bleeding woman***



I sat carefully down at the breakfast table that had taken me most of the morning to get here. If you were to see my emaciated body, all muscle and fatty tissues that have wasted away, you would figure me at most a teenage girl just running late to school. “Veronica, eat! Drink! We can’t keep going backwards. The doctor told you to drink your juice and eat your bread. Mother swept out with a basket of clothes under her arm. I do not let her sharp tempter hassle me. I looked at the plate mama had laid out for me. I can smell something sour and moldy coming from the cup. Another conconcution of the newest and the last set of doctors. This elixor was to help slow the blood in my body. Although she had gone to the extra trouble of cutting off my crust - I realise how ridiculous that sounds for an almost 30 year old year-The very thought of putting that in my mouth developed a lump in my throat, and I realized nothing was going down this morning



To try and not upset my mother I drain the juice in the sink and throw away the bread. She wouldn’t ask, and I wouldn't have to lie. This is our life. Twelve years ago, I believed the best days of my life were in front of me. My bleeding cycle continued which symbolized I was now a woman. The only problem was the blood never left. When You are on your monthly cycle, our Faith has rules we must abide by. Once a woman starts to bleed she is “unclean” for seven days and any one who touches me would also become unclean.



When day 8, 9 10, and more came, when the bleeding won't stop no one would tell me what was going on. What was happening to my body or when would others be able to be near me again. I would walk every morning praying to Jevovah today would be the day. “In time,” the doctors would say and walk away. Leaving my family with a large medical bill. My mother tried her very, very best. She took me to some doctors who ran some tests, and gave us some ideas but the swelling to my toes, feel and ankles would continue. We were getting desperate so we went to some less reputable doctors. Some came up with some very odd and painful ways to treat me. I knew I had been getting worse. My labored breathing was a constant picture of my health, and physical weakness kept me in bed most days. I knew the strain I put on my family was great.



One morning, when I was bundled under my covers, I heard a conversation between my mama and Auntie. Auntie suggested that we end the ridiculous chase. We could not go to synagogue, people walk on the other side of the road when they see our family coming, and you have nothing else to sell. The debtors are coming! Mama retorted, “What am I to do then? Let her die. Throw her to the front yard and pick up the bones after the vultures are done?” I was under the covers, but whatever my Aunt’s eyes showed infuriated my mother. “Get out, Get out, and not until you are welcomed back in!” Then I heard the door slam.



Mother came in my room obviously upset, and began cleaning. She was mumbling about fake healers and snake oil in bottles. “Mama?” I whisper. She jumped. I must have surprised her. “I thought you were asleep little one?” “Little indeed, but not young one.” “Don’t listen to your Aunt. she doesn't keep the house half as well as she would have us believe. When Jerimiah came down with that evil disease that butchered every animal in the yard to get the medicine to heal him!” “But mama,” I sighed, “it has been 12 years and I am not getting better. If anything I am getting worse. Maybe…..” “NO!”



Mama shouted. I have never seen mama so frazzled. “My Angel, listen to me. Your birth was hard, the fact that both of us are here alive is a miracle. After a dangerous all through the night delivery, I had my last push and I thought you were dead. Another woman who I had never seen before took you and began to rub your back.. Then she quotes scripture to your ears, and wrapped your little feet tight and warm. She said “Now you will breath. You have things to do in this world and people who need you.” The dark skinned woman with a cinnamon glow handed me my baby, and she whispered “Breath. And baby girl you gave a scream I have never heard the likes of since. I knew something big was coming for you. “ “But Mama...” NO BUT MAMA!” He didn’t save you then, to give up on you know. We are going to get this,”



My mama had gone through too much. I had made my final decision. As crazy as this sounds, I am going to find the one they call Jesus. I didn’t know much other than the major leaders of our religion despite him. I went to them too. They told my mama she must have been quite a sinner, or I was cursed. They want nothing to do with me. So bypassing this group was not the biggest deal. We had talked at a family meal about the holy healings he was doing. We joked about taking me, but how could I get close. I was considered unclean, and anyone who touched me was unclean. No holy man or member of the holy man’s group would let me anywhere close.



This morning had done it for me. My mother tossed out her own sister for me and it will spiral until they lay me in the ground. I had a plan. A reckless, spontaneous, and completely not thought out, but a plan nonetheless. I was so tired of never being about to leave my house. Without hearing horrible names they called as I walked down the street. I attended school sparsely at first due to the constant badgering, but then I had to quit because I physically couldn’t continue. I spent more time asleep than awake now.



I had found it! I found when Jesus would be passing through our town. “I can do this!” I told myself and then took out the door. I moved slowly due to my illness. Then it occurred to me that the plan was to find Jesus and then what? I can't touch him. That would make a clean man unclean. I would be killed on the spot. What if he doesn’t want to listen to a cursed woman? What if He has done His miracles of the day? What if the religious leaders were right and this man was a liar? All of the sudden DESPERATION went through my head. I HAD to do this. Sane people still had options. People who still had checkboxes left with God could afford to be cautious. But I have nothing left. I am out of money, out of options, out of ideas, out of ideals. The only thing I have left is finding Jesus.



On foot after another I tell myself. Just keep walking and you will find Him. I saw the massive crowd before I would see him. Even from this distance I could see the teacher was tired. Next time he comes I think I will find him I thought. A voice in my head very strongly said “There will not be a next time.” I reached the edge of the crowd. Finally a use for me being so small! I could slip up and under, beside, beneath, and I could see him. In my head, I played conversations over and over.



“Oh Jesus, if I could just have a minute?” or “Jesus I know that you are so busy but if you could just lay your lands on…..” It came to me. No one had to know that this unclean woman had touched this clean man. I could get close enough and touch his prayer shawl. That’s it! I know if I could just touch this man I would be healed. I got close. I could see his prayer tassel flow this way and that way in the wind. If I could just ….reach….out….and touch. As soon as my hand came in contact with him, I knew I was healed. It was a warmness that flowed from the top of my head to the bottoms of my feet. I felt strong. I felt new.



I was HEALED. After so many failures it felt odd to say this, but I know without a shadow or a doubt, my bleeding had stopped. I even felt stronger in my legs and clearer in my head. Where man after man had failed, Christ with one touch healed. Then I felt as if my heart stopped when the Master said “Who touched me?” I knew it was over. An unclean woman touched the cleanest of the clean men. I was dead. Death by stoning. Peter tried to convince him that everyone was pushing on him. How can we find just one? My heart almost settles. But Jesus said, “Someone deliberately touched me, for I felt healing power go out from me.”



No going back now. I deserved whatever consequences I received. I tried to stand but my legs were so shaky I actually collapsed in front of the Savior. “I have no right to be in the same area as you. I have bled for the last 12 year and nothing could help. I was dying. So I came to touch you. Not to beg or plead my cas, e but simply touch your tassel and be healed. My head down, the rocks grating into my knees, I felt him kneel down beside me.. He took hold of my chin and said “Daughter,”he smiled, “your faith has made you well. Go in peace.” My eyes filled as I repeated the word “daughter” over and over. This clean, holy, and just man had called me daughter. The law demanded death and retribution. He first healed my blood, and then with one word, the word daughter, healed my soul. I know He was on his way to something or someone. He smiled and nodded. The first time in 12 years, I smiled back.

What if?

What if? John 3:1-21
***Nicodemus***

“Psst….” At first I thought it was my imagination. It took me hours to fall asleep with the conversations we have been having in council, and I am  pretty sure it isn’t  the wind waking me. “Nicodemus!” Now my illusion knew my name. I got up, wrapped a shawl around myself and started to the side of the building. I had recognized his voice, and I had a feeling I knew why he was here. If truth be told I almost had headed to his place hours ago. “Nicodemus, I have only been out here in a panic all night. So glad you could finally join me.” “Oh Joseph of Arimathea, your younger sharper tongue will catch you someday.” “With everything going on in this upside world, we might all never make it to “someday.”

I stoked my beard and thought over our meeting tonight. Joseph and I were upstanding members of the Sanhedrin. I left the meeting tonight with ringing in my ears and a headache behind my eyes. Now, I stand in the middle of the night in a dark alley where those who know the evil are  awaiting us here. “Nicodemus, you have to agree with me. No man could do what He is doing without God on His side!” “You think I have not considered such possibilities? We both have discussed this over and over until all we end up is dizzy and up all night.” “You know their plans. You know that are planning to kill him!” Joseph raised his voice. “Enough! Would you like them to call another meeting about us before this word  gets out.” “But Nicodemus, getting him out is not the problem.” Then in a whisper, Nicodemus answered, “What if He is who He says He is?” Joseph replied in an equally hush tone, “or what if He is wrong? Where does that leave us. Where any of this leave us?” “I don’t know,” I answered. It had been a very long time since I had come to that conclusion. After all I am not just a respected member of the Phrases, I am also in the Sanhedrin. My entire life has been dedicated to the service of God. I know ever scripture, doctrine, promise, history lesson. Here is this vagabond, challenging everything I have worked for.

“I will go to speak with him,” I sighed out loud. “What?, Joseph replied. “That is crazy. You will lose it all. Your seat. Your authority. They will throw you right in with the crazy and hysterical.” “I will meet him after the sun has set. You arrange a place. Let his people know that I will be showing up late- I have work that needs done.” “If this is what you want. I will deal with it immediately.” Joseph started walking down the street but then turned aground. I couldn’t see his face because of the shadows, but the low voice I heard, “Shalom.”

Sleep never came again that night. I heard of the miracles this man was performing.  The lives that seemed to be changing. But I had also seen the man throw money changers across the temple. I would be lair if I didn’t I had often thought of the same thing. It is criminal taking advantage of people who simply wanted to bring their offering to their God. He didn’t come with a threat or a sword. Which again, had me wondering about his mental health with the things pharisees were whispering. But He threatened the temple. He said that He could have it destroyed and built again in 3 days.  I needed answers and I needed them quickly.

The night before I walked out my door, I tried to pray. Brought up with the scriptures and the laws, and in that moment, the only thing that came to mind was “What if?”I pulled my hood over my face and began to walk the other way in case I was being watched. When I was sure no one was following, I walked quickly to the address given. I walked up the rock stairs that had been here for how many centuries. Would we just throw these solid dependable stairs away just because someone said they had had new stairs. Of course not! We keep the stairs that have served us for generations. But before my incessant rattling could continue, there was Jesus. I had seen him at a distance. I heard his voice from afar, but never could I have imagined this.  A power like pulse seemed to come from him. Even though he sat in a shadowed chair on the rooftop, his outline almost glowed. Not really a glow though but I had no Earthly words to describe it. I was suddenly hit with the idea of a melody maybe a more suitable description.

He motioned for me to sit. Then it suddenly occurred to me that I didn’t know what to address him as. He certainly had earned quite the spectrum of nicknames. The one thing I knew about him was that he is a teacher, so the rabbi seemed safe. My mouth was parched, and here the “Teacher of Israel'' sat tongue tied. Enough of this foolishness.  “Rabbi, we know that God has sent you to teach us. Your miraculous signs are evidence that God is with you.” Jesus replied, ”I tell you the Truth, unless you are born again, you can not see the Kingdom of God.”

I arrived looking for solid answers, and he created more riddles  and more questions. “What do you mean?” I exclaimed. “How can an old man go back into this mother’s womb and be born again.? Jesus brought his hands on the table, palms up, like he was offering me something I could not see. He replied, “I assure you, no one can enter the kingdom of God Without being born of water and spirit. Humans can only reproduce human life but the Holy Spirit gives birth to a spiritual life. So don’t be surprised when I say YOU must be born again. The wind blows wherever it wants. Just as you can hear the wind but cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going, so you can’t explain how people are born of the Spirit.

I sat silent for so long I couldn’t even guess how much time had elapsed. But He looked at me. Looked deep into me. And I remembered. A scripture from the book of Ezekiel. Chapter 36:25-27 25 I will sprinkle clean water on you, and you will be clean; I will cleanse you from all your impurities and from all your idols.  I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.  And I will put my Spirit in you and move you to follow my decrees and be careful to keep my laws.

“How are these things possible:” I asked. I had spent my entire life serving the Law, handing out verdicts for the law. I have given everything away,  and now this Jesus…..“You are Israel’s teacher,” interrupting me of my thoughts Jesus said, “and do you not understand these things?  Very truly I tell you, we speak of what we know, and we testify to what we have seen, but still you people do not accept our testimony.  I have spoken to you of earthly things and you do not believe; how then will you believe if I speak of heavenly things?

I felt a heat raising in my body. My hands twitched in my lap. I wanted to run. To run and run until I collapsed at exhaustion. So I would not have to think of these things. Yahweh help me, what he said was the Truth. I can’t explain how I knew. It was like He was speaking too deep inside of me.  Jeus continued, “No one has ever gone into heaven except the one who came from heaven—the Son of Man. Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the wilderness, so the Son of Man must be lifted up, that everyone who believes may have eternal life in him.”
Oh course I knew of my people’s story. In the book of Numbers 21:4-9 it is written after leaving the slavery of Egypt,  the people became impatient on the way to the promised land. The people spoke against God and against Moses, "Why have you brought us up out of Egypt to die in the wilderness? For there is no food and no water, and we detest this miserable food." Then the LORD sent poisonous serpents among the people, and they bit the people, so that many Israelites died. The people came to Moses and said, "We have sinned by speaking against the LORD and against you; pray to the LORD to take away the serpents from us." So Moses prayed for the people. And the LORD said to Moses, "Make a poisonous serpent, and set it on a pole; and everyone who is bitten shall look at it and live." So Moses made a serpent of bronze, and put it upon a pole; and whenever a serpent bit someone, that person would look at the serpent of bronze and live. What does snakes got to do with it? What does He mean he will be lifted up?  Lifted up from Sanhedrin? From the people of the temple? Or What if..

 Jesus stood, in a voice I would never hear again, He started to speak. But again, language is such a funny thing, It sounded like love would sound like. I wished for years I could sound that way. All of the nighttime business stilled. No bugs or animals. No people yelling blocks away.  “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that who or where believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.  For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him.  Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe stands condemned already because they have not believed in the name of God’s one and only Son.  This is the verdict: Light has come into the world, but people loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil.  Everyone who does evil hates the light, and will not come into the light for fear that their deeds will be exposed.  But whoever lives by the truth comes into the light, so that it may be seen plainly that what they have done has been done in the sight of God.”

I rose, with tears in my eyes. I couldn’t speak until I traveled all the way to my home where Joseph of Amarmathia. The minute I opened the door the question began to flow. “How did I not get caught? What did he tell you? WHat did you see” I sat down at my table and placed my hands open reaching to the sky. I bowed my head and tears ran through my beard. Concerned and alarmed, Joseph shook my arm. “What has happened?”  “Joseph, I saw God tonight. It is Him, the Messiah.” “What if you are wrong, Rabbi?” “What if I am right?” “And we both swore our allegiance to a group that is actively trying to kill him., Joseph whisphered. “Tomorrow we will speak. I have so much to share with you but I want to get it right, and I am too tired to go through it all.” “I understand,” Joseph said. I will be here when you wake up. As I stoof up and turned to bed to bed I heard Joseph speak once more. “What if?” “What if indeed.”

WHen Jesus shows up everything changes.

Victory

Silence.

A heavenly host camped outside of the tomb.  As well as an encampment of shadows and a handful of soldiers who could see neither.

The darkness crawled over the rocks. Slashing and screaming. Their celebrating continuing from the path of the cross.  If you claim celebration as throbbing hatred, screaming death, and hissing in a language that would cause human ears to bleed. Their eyes burning and feet scorching the earth and leaving a trail of death in their wake. The darkness continued to taunt and accuse the light. “Why are they still here?” one creature hissed and slithered down a stone. “They have lost. Their hero is rotting!” a dark mist breathed out.

The Army stayed silent. Hands on swords, armor shining, light pulsing. Waiting.

A path which looked like heat shimmering in the desert began to ripple across the land. The earth began to shake and rocks burst into pieces. A blinding light shot down from the heavens and struck the tomb. Strikes of lightening coated the rocks and streaks of flame torched the ground. Where the darkness had been only ash remained. The black soot scattered in the fury of the wind. The sky lit in a chorus of colors. The veil between heaven and earth was open. The Holy mist descended from on high. The wind became like a howling train and a roar shook the sky.

Then a gasp, a breath, a pause. Power. Thump, thump. A heartbeat. The granite shook. The rock slid. The breath of life. Of victory.

Out from the rock that could contain Him as much as a breeze can stop the hurricane, stepped the Son.  The Army of Light slide to one knee. Heads bowed and swords out. The sky was filled with creatures of light singing and calling. “Holy, Holy is the Lord God Almighty.” Wings of the purest gold and voices that seem to melt into the sky.   

His face was the brightest star. His robe was the brightest of white with streaks of lightening flashing with His steps. Crystals like diamonds seemed to circle his head in a crown like appearance that didn’t seem to have an ending. Where the thorns had pierced His skull a prism of color shot out. From His wrists, back, and side where blood had spilt, symbols swirled. Signs no mortal could speak or even look upon. The earth seemed to shimmer beneath His barley contained power.

With the call and the voice Michael had waiting a millennia to hear, he stood. The Son who had been in the grip of death now stood in victory. Jesus looked into the eyes of His warrior and said, “Now. We stand down no longer. Today the heavens and earth testify to the eternal and unchanging love and mercy of the Father of creation. Today and forever more, we reign victorious.”

And from that day to this, the new heaven has been coming. The final war will be fought though we don’t know exactly when or how. But one thing we can be assured of. One day

¹⁰ that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of those in heaven, and of those on earth, and of those under the earth, ¹¹ and  every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.”

Philippians 2:10-11 

Amen

Saturday

And the world was silent.
It waited.
It knew this was not the end.
Something big was coming...

The only way

The only way

The whip came down and slice through His flesh. With every strike, Michael’s hand tightened on his sword. His eyes burning like coals and fury pulsed like a living creature. Another creature of light stepped up to the commander of the heavenly army.

“How long must we let this continue?”

He didn’t answer. He couldn’t answer. Snap. The sounds of flesh ripping echoed. “Almighty One,” he called. The Son’s face rested on the pillar to which he was tied. He lifted his eyes. He shook his head and spoke into the spirit. “No. Stand down.”

With more strength than had been call upon in the last thousand years, Michael nodded. He looked to his second Gabriel, whose face mixed with horror and fury barely contained.

“The Son has not called. We stick to our mission. We wait. We watch. We do not let the evil one take one step the Almighty has not decreed.” The Army of Light watch as His blood ran down His back in rivers. The earth swallowed the crimson gift as soon as it hit the dusty ground. Even the earth knows how precious the blood of He who stands upon it is.

Surrounding the area is a spiritual veil that no mortal can see through. The humans see hard hearted men with whips, violence, and hate. Then there is the truth.

Festering, putrid dark creatures that war against the very fabric of existence. Blackness draped over the land. Some of them slither along the ground leaving behind a retched stench. Others stand and flash their claws and fangs. They surround the people and drip poison into their minds. They whisper lies. Tails with black scales and eyes carrying the darkness of hell. The Army of Light form the half circle around this cursed and desolate land. This land will never see life again.

Hands at the ready, power pulsing. They push the power into the crowd to threaten the darkness that tries to get close. The angels have only allowed the few that the Master has allowed. There is a plan that is unfolding in front of us all.

The roman soldiers gathered around Jesus. They striped Him and drape a scarlet robe on Him, and then twisted together a crown of thorns and pushed it into his scalp. New blood drips down into His eyes. His face is a mixture of ripped skin, bruised, and swollen flesh. They put a staff into His right hand and mocked Him “Hail, King of the Jews,” they said. They spit on him, and took the staff and struck him again and again.  “If they knew that this is what He has chosen for them, they would throw themselves into the darkest sea in repentance,” the deep voice of Gabriel rang out.

 Finally they led him away to be crucified. The cross on which He would be murdered was thrown upon His shoulders.  His knees gave away, but the cross stayed on His shoulders. As Jesus struggled to stand, a ray of light stepped forth. To the crowd it seemed to be a soldier who lifted the cross off of the Christ. Had they looked closer they would have seen with what unnatural strength the cross was lifted and passed to another who shouldered the cross and began to walk. A clawed hand shot out to grab at the now cross bearer, but a sword of light cut through the shadow. Michael stepped forth daring another to interfere.

Jesus drained of strength, stumbled up the hill. On either side of the Son, marched the Army of Light. Skin gleaming unlike any armor ever crafted. Weapons no mortal eyes could even fathom or look upon.

The cross was laid onto the earth. Jesus the Christ began to crawl toward it. “After all this, and He still loves them this much.” “We do not understand. We don’t see them as He does. We were created to praise the Almighty. They will choose to love him or not. In their vulnerability, He sees glory. In their weakness, He has prophesized strength,” Michael softly said.

Nails are driven through His flesh. With each strike, a shock wave shook the earth. The Angels of Light did not move. The creatures roared. Then the cross was lifted.  Jesus, with lips almost crusted shut with dried almost black blood, spoke the words, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.”

“And still He begs for mercy for them from the Father.”

“This is why He came. To carry the sins of this world. Our eternal one is Holy. He demands a sacrifice for turning their face from Him. The Son is the pure and spotless Lamb who generations have been awaiting. He will pay the price.”

The wind began to pick up and the earth shook. The Army began to close the lines when they saw the giant reptile like creature coming. They knew he had been present. They felt his malice and hatred. Now, he came. Swiping at everything in his path, he stalked to the cross. The darkness that dissolve any light in his path followed.

“Michael, do we engage? We must stop him before he reaches the Son!” the angel screamed.

“Do you think that the Son could not destroy this abomination with one swipe of His hand?” Michael roared. “This He has chosen. For them and those that will come after.”

The darkness approached the cross. The One who knew no sin felt darkness engulf Him. The earth cried out, shook, broke, and the sky crashed. The whole earth seemed to tear into pieces. Even the Army from heaven could not summon the light.

Out of the inky black, the whole world heard “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.” The very fabric of eternity was torn. And Jesus took His last breath.

In that moment, silence fell. Suddenly, a cry that only a mother’s heart could give pierced the darkness. Mary, the chosen one collapsed into the arms of one of His followers. The pure anguish in her soul even broke the strongest of warriors.

“It is over,” the dark creature claimed and then slid back into the earth.

Michael’s eyes burned as he lifted his sword and pointed it to the scorched earth ahead. “No, it’s not. Not even close.”