Thursday, August 30, 2012

Final Reckoning

His eyes stung as tears and sweat dripped into them. Every fiber of his being cried out for mercy as he lugged the heavy wooden beams of his cross.
He looked a frail excuse for a human being; his back scarred beyond recognition and wounds and gashes in every imaginable place.
"How dare you call yourself the Son of God!" A man detested spitting at him.
He stopped for a moment and gave the man a compassionate look before the Roman guards on either side egged him on.

The priest entered the Temple adorned in his best robes. It was that time of year again to atone for humanity's sins in the form of lamb's blood which he held in a golden boll.
There was a cord attached his ankle should the presence of The most Holy One overwhelm his physical body to its breaking point.
Taking a deep breath his walked in and stood before the veil that separated him from the closest earthly thing to Heaven itself.
The veil was thick and wide supported by golden brackets to the door frame.
The fabric rippled with a low steady rhythmic beat from beyond it.
Something was different. He could feel it.

"Crucify him!"
"Who do you think you are Jesus!"
The crowds intensifying shouts came. The verbal assaults bashed Jesus's morale as much as the wounds bashed his body.
Finally they came to a small hill where two other crosses with victims hanging in misery waited for him.
He was stripped of his clothes, fully exposed, and then the guards had the crossbeam nailed to his wrists. Each stroke of the hammers bringing a new meaning to the word pain.
Attached to this he was then attached to the rest of the cross with the crowd jeering at him from his exposed position. Even now he could feel their worries, doubts, hidden pains, rushing at him. His breath grew short.

The priest entered past the curtain and passed through the fist chamber. The air grew thicker and his heart started to race.

Jesus gasped for breath. For a split second he was able to see through everyone in the crowd and see the depth of corruption.
He could do that already; but this time it was involuntary. This world was becoming a blur as the sun slowly cooked him alive.

The priest passed through into the second chamber. His heart racing, his hands trembling, his senses on high alert.

The pain shuddered through his body as he began to loose his perception of time. Splinters dug into his back. The pain almost numbing.
It couldn't get worst.
And then his legs were broken. If there was any pain his body didn't care to tell him.
He breathed heavy breaths as he saw a dark shadow in the corner of his eye.

Finally the priest entered the third and final chamber. The air was heaviest here and before him stood that sacred object the Ark of the Covenant. He felt as if he should say sometime but he didn't know what.
He just kneeled and poured the blood on the Ark. As he did so it boiled and hissed as the Law was appeased until the blood evaporated into the air.

"Father. Forgive them. For they know not what they do." Jesus said as all of human history, every sin, every wrong doing against God and Man flashed before him. He tried to breath as the scope of it all overwhelmed him and he released his final breath.

The priest rose in the heavy presence. The deed done.

Riding the currents of His Father's love He ascended through the First Heaven, the Second Heaven, and the Third Heaven until he awoke before his Father the Creator of All.
"It is finished." He said with the utmost respect.
"Well done My Son." Came the Father's voice carrying a deep mellow tone.
"I must return and tell Them of Our victory. They must hear the good news."
Jesus felt his Father smile upon him and then came the whisper of a whisper; "Go." it said. And He smiled a white smile before vanishing in a burst of white light.

The priest sat on the steps outside the Temple as he watched the first rays of sunlight peak over the horizon which had three crosses from yesterday's capital punishment starkly outlined.
As he sat there a new hope arose in him. This was a good day to be alive.

Sunday, August 26, 2012

Quiet Musings

She sat there in the quiet, reading, just reading. All the other children were outside engaged in bustling activities of stamina and performance.
But she never heard them as she escaped to the hidden world within the book bindings.
A mountain of books had accumulated around her; everything from encyclopedias to classic works of fiction.
The air was still, so still in fact, that the steady tick tock of the grandfather clock downstairs could be heard.

The others wouldn't understand her obsession with these books. All they saw was crude binds, she, saw so much more.
A fly buzzed around her face not phasing her concentration.

Within a few hours she had been a pirate, a starship captain, an explorer, and so much more. This world had become a pale existence as she rode the authors creative and witty words.

"Brooklyn, come down, it's time to eat." A voice downstairs called to her and she was stirred from the other world.
She saw that the sun was setting and realized just how long she had been reading.
"I'll be down in a moment." She called marking her place in the book. She gave its open inviting pages one more look before she ran downstairs to join her family around the table.

Saturday, August 25, 2012

Summer Night Waltz

Come, let me teach you how to dance, let me show you how to follow the eddies and flow of the music.
Let the song overtake you, take my hand, and I'll show you how.
Together, as one, let your mind wander, listen to the whisper of the breeze, it's not hard, I'll show you how.

The night is young and the fireflies are quite a splendor to behold. Like mini galaxies they fill the heavens.
You're doing it. Now follow my lead, I've got your back. That wasn't hard now was it?

I ride the music as time stands still, as the world fades, and as my Father draws near. The music is all around me, like an ocean, so gentle yet so strong. I ride the currents in my Father's arms.
No more suffering no more pain.
This is a wonder to behold.
This is living. This is destiny.

Friday, August 24, 2012

Clay and Flesh

Birds sang their tranquil songs in the canopy of the lush subtropical forest.
Creatures of every kind, deer, apes, even giant dragons, all co-existed in this paradise. Everything was perfect. Everything was the way He intended it to be.

From His high perspective he saw the Garden and everything in it and smiled at the sight of such harmony.

A light breeze rustled the trees' leaves. And then the wind built up, stronger and stronger, now it was a gale circling around a small patch of bare earth all the while the beasts watched on.
The gale climaxed in the center of the exposed ground until dust was peppered into its center where it rode the invisible currents.
The dust began to clump together and form abstract shapes; more dust was introduced. A rough upright skeletal form took shape, arms, hand, and feet, all came into being.
Sand became calcium and calcium became marrow. Still in the center if the vortex organs, the essentials, grew from nothing.
The winds subsided a little and the being's feet touched the earth it was made of.
Nerves filled the frame like weeds and then muscle and sinew grew from dust particles that flew to the figure's outstretched arms as if they were made of iron attracted to large magnets.
These began to shine golden as they took on their final form.

The fully fleshed out figure fell to his knees bare, naked, and exposed.

The world was dark, why was it so dark, who was he, what was he.
He moved his fingers for the first time and felt the sand. For some reason he knew he was made from it. He gasped as his lungs took in the sweet air for the first time.
"Open your eyes my son." He heard a close voice say to him. And then he realized he had his eyelids clenched shuck.
He took in the Garden's spender for the first time and adsorbed its essence.
Looking around he knew he was home; this is where he belonged. But he still felt like he was missing something.
The name just came to him and he liked it. With his new name and a world of possibilities ahead of him there seemed nothing he couldn't do.
He looked down at his hand and saw the last bit of sand particles form into his new fingertips. Yes. This new life of his was going to be very interesting.