The Voice. Eternity wears no watch.

~

CONTINUED FROM 1.27.12: the voice. no.no.no.



Do you remember a recent post titled: The Voice – I love you? It was about eight year- old, Ricky, and the moment of his salvation. He heard The Voice call to him and he responded with a quivering lip, and… “little boy knees hit a wet tile floor. Little hands rose toward the man in the clouds. And a little voice whispered, ‘I love you, too.’ ”


Well, in the Foyer where that story took place there was another story taking place – a story of Angels and demons. Today we continue with that story. So, take hold of the invisible zipper. Unzip the skin of this seen-realm, pull back the flap and step through into the unseen-realm. You’ll find the scene awaits…

~

“I knew you’d ask” “Gabriel said, “And why not? It’s a simple message, from HIM.”


When Gabriel mentioned HIM, he looked toward heaven. dribgnos looked toward hell and cowered like a whipped pup.


“but wwwhy… you?” dribgnos stammered.


“I was told to go to this child and tell him simply what HE tells everyone; ‘I love you.’ It’s nothing new. But yes, this child is special. His voice will echo throughout the earth. He will carry The Voice of The One Who Sits on The Throne.”


dribgnos began pacing again, and whispering under his breath … “The Voice of one crying in the wilderness: Prepare the way of The LORD; Make straight in the desert a highway for our God.’ The book of Isaiah… or something like that, i think.” dribgnos clenched and unclenched his fists and teeth.


“Before the great and dr… dreadf… dreadful day of The Lord… hearts of fathers to the children… the crooked places shall be made straight, the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together; For the mouth of the LORD has spoken.”


dribgnos tried to quote every text from The Book his low lord lucifer told him to pay attention to, but, they were all mixed up. he continued to mumble to himself…“The Voice said, “Cry out!” And he said, “What shall I cry?”


dribgnos stopped. his eyes bulged red. he repeated; “What shall I cry. A wicked smile creased his ugly face. “What shall I cry…WHAT shall I CRY.” he shot a crooked finger toward the child, “HA…that’s it. He won’t have a voice, i’ll steal the word. He’ll stammer and stutter and drive himself crazy. ‘WHAT shall I cry, WHAT shall I cry? WHAT shall I cry,’ dribgnos danced. “He may feel the need, and hear the call, but he won’t heed; because, i’ll confuse his mind… and no words will come. HA!”


A putrid stench filled the unseen realm as laughter drooled from the bared fangs of the demon.


“So… you’ll try and make him turn out just- like-you?” David spit the words at the demon.


dribgnos ignored the Angel. his pacing turned to prancing; “oh… but he’ll cry. he’ll cry a lot. i’ve already taken care of that… ‘cry baby’s quiver – here comes the river.’ ” dribgnos strutted proud of his plan derived by perverting The Word – just like lucifer taught him.


Gabriel and David turned toward dribgnos wanting to spit on the wretched parasite, and squish him like the bug he was. David started toward the rodent. Gabriel didn’t stop him. He towered over the back pedaling demon and waited for the go ahead, to behead, this putrid being, and send him forever to the pit – but no such word was given.


Slow and calm Gabriel spoke. “Try as you may, dribgnos, The Word shut up in his bones will come. His voice will be heard. The Voice has spoken.” Gabriel was gone.


Angel stared at demon. Eternity wears no watch. An eternity passed, as they faced each other. However, only one second clicked, off earth’s clock.

~

TO BE CONTINUED

~

Mrs. Claus

~

I climb a lot of ladders for my job. Kids must think it’s cool, because whenever they’re around, and I’m up on a roof-top, they point and stare. I usually ask their names, and then say “Nice to meet you, what’s my name?”


They giggle and say, “I don’t know.”

“My name’s Santa,” I tell them.

They giggle a little more, and before they can say anything, I say, “No, just kidding…BUT I do work for him.”

“Huh?” Wide eyes get wider.

“Yeah, I check out the best places for the reindeer to land and stuff so Santa doesn’t get hurt.”

“Wow!”

...And Mrs. Claus is my mother-in-law, or at least I think she is. Or, maybe, she just works for him – Santa Claus; Papá Noel....

Hi, thanks for stopping by!  

The past few Sundays I've been honored to write for Kingdom Bloggers. You can see the rest of the story by clicking here. 


Oh... almost forgot. I hope to see you right here tomorrow morning.  We'll continue the story about Ricky and the Angels and demons in: "The Voice - Eternity wears no watch."
~

the voice. no.no.no.

~

Do you remember a recent post titled: The Voice – I love you? It was about a little boy named Ricky and the moment of his salvation. He heard The Voice call to him and he responded with a quivering lip and a… “little boy’s knees hit a wet tile floor. Little hands rose toward the man in the clouds. And a little voice whispered, ‘I love you, too.’ ”


Well, in the Foyer where that story took place there was another story taking place. Today I’d like to take you there. You’ll have to reach out your hands before you and take hold of the invisible zipper. Unzip the skin of this seen realm and step through the flap into the unseen realm. You’ll find another scene awaits…

~

the voice screamed… “NO! NO! NO!”

In the Throne Room he stood, pointing an accusatory finger. the voice echoed from heaven, through the solar system, down through the atmosphere. All the way from The Throne Room to the Foyer – where a little boy kneeled, on tear splattered tile.

The Archangel Gabriel heard. He was sent to witness the awakening. He stood just to the left of the kneeling child, Ricky.

Another Angel from the Host of Heaven – Ricky’s Guardian Angel, David, stood by Ricky’s right side, and covered the ears of the boy.

Pacing back and forth behind the trio was dribgnos; the demon assigned to Ricky. dribgnos covered his own ears. The echo pounded in his head like a migraine, NO! NO! NO! he stopped six feet from the weeping child, pointed a trembling, crooked finger, and released the words that pounded. dribgnos tried to imitate the sound echoing like-a-lion’s-roar in his head, but it sounded more like a scared cat. “no. no. no.”

The child heard nothing, but Gabriel’s voice singing, “I love you.”

dribgnos screamed, “it’s not time, he’s too young, he’s mine, he’s mine. no. no. no. lucifer will have my head.” Squeezing his skull with talons he dropped to one knee. “not again.”

Gabriel looked and remembered the pathetic creature’s former self, before the rebellion, before the fall, before he was cast from heaven and before his wretched decision to turn – turned him inside out.

“Praying? songbird.” asked Gabriel.

“don’t call me that, you, you, you…” dribgnos grabbed his head acting as if some sudden pain pulled him away from the conversation. he was in pain, yes – but that was nothing new. he grabbed his head to hide two things: the fact that he couldn’t think of anything to say…and the quiver in his chin.

“Cat got your tongue, songbird?” David laughed. His voice flowed like a song.

“it’s not over, i’ll get him” dribgnos whimpered, and then looked at Gabriel, “why?”

“I knew you’d ask” “Gabriel said, “And why not? It’s a simple message, from HIM.”

When Gabriel mentioned HIM, he looked toward heaven. dribgnos looked toward hell and cowered like a whipped pup.

***TO BE CONTINUED

~

Happy Birthday Urijah

~
Yesterday my grandson, Urijah Nathaniel Brooks celebrated his first birthday. Following is  a repost from one year ago.


She worked a crossword puzzle to keep her mind off the discomfort. But soon it couldn’t be ignored. She’d put her hand on her stomach and whispered, “there’s another one.”

We started timing.

 “Maybe we better go.”

 “I’m not going in until I’m sure.”

 Twice they went to the hospital. Twice they were sent home. This time Kayla wanted to be sure her contractions were the real deal.

 So she waited…so we timed. Seven minutes apart, then five, then four, then more severe, then…

 “Oh, I think we better go.”

 10:30 p.m. Daddy drove – fast and furious. They unloaded at the now familiar hospital entry. I slid behind the wheel to park.

 This time there was no wondering. She wanted to push.

 The familiar elevator ride; beep – we ascended through second floor. Beep – we rose through third. Beep-beep to the top of the hospital; the place life began for many…and ended for some.

 Room # 5406 became Kayla’s temporary home. Monitors attached and questions asked – lots of questions. Have you eaten anything? How far apart are the contractions? On a scale of 1-10 what is your pain level? Any tobacco use…medications? She’d answer when she could and gasped and grasped white knuckles to bedrail when she couldn’t.

 With each wince from my daughter eyes would burn and jaw would clench; not hers – mine. I wasn’t having the baby but I felt it. Not in my belly but in my heart. I hoped they didn’t notice these contractions were tearing me up.

 And then it got worse. “We’ll try to give you something for the pain but…I’m going to try the other arm.” Needles and nurses attempted to find a vein – in vain.

 Contractions continued about two minutes apart topping the chart. When I heard: “I’ll check again to see how far you’re dilated.” I decided that was my cue to exit. “I think I’ll get some coffee and then…I’d probably be of more use in the Chapel.”

 Coffee in hand I rode the elevator to the bottom; the Chapel floor. The nurses needed help finding a vein so I went over their head to get it.

 From below – I looked up. Dear God…nothing eloquent or memorable would come; just a heartfelt cry for a needle to find a vein; a girl to dilate and deliver. The big white Bible lay open in the front of the chapel.

 

“Thus says the Lord who made you and formed you from the womb, who will help you: Fear not…” Isaiah 44:2

Her room was quiet when I returned; the atmosphere different. The only sound the beeping machine. Kayla lay still. A large arc appeared on the paper water fall documenting a big contraction; but not a wince from Kayla.

 She had dilated from a three to a seven. The IV found a home. And pain meds were delivered...

God heard.

 My faith grew.



The door should have been a revolving one. Nurse Lisa instructed Kayla to let her know if she felt the urge to push.

We waited and watched.

“He’s facing the side. He needs to turn.” They rotated Kayla from side to side and then on her knees.

 Once more from Chapel below on my knees, prayers ascended to turn and to deliver.
From the belly of the hospital these words were read:

“For unto us a Child is born, unto us a Son is given.” Isaiah 9:6

And five floors above Life pushed life from belly to world.
 I'm pleased to announce to you. On 1/24/11 at 2:57 a.m. 8lb 2.9 oz; 20 ½”; Urijah Nathaniel Brooks was born.

 And if I ever lost faith in prayer; tonight it was reborn.


***

The Voice - I love you

~

Eight years old with freckles that cover, cowboy boots that kick, blond hair that glistens and little ears that listen …

“I love you,” He heard it as he ran by the picture.

Ricky only had one speed – fast. On his way to the kitchen he heard it – The Voice. “I love you.” By the time he slowed to a jog he was half way across the Living Room. Ricky tilted his head dipped his right shoulder and changed directions. Back to the Foyer he had just bolted through – where he heard, The Voice.

When he reached the corner, that turned left into the Foyer, he stopped. He stood at the edge of the carpet before it changed to ceramic tile. Like a hunter stops at the edge of the woods, before stepping into the clear, he surveyed the room. He stared straight across the Foyer. He looked at the landing, where he had just landed – after jumping most of the twelve steps from upstairs. He slowly scanned the right wall, the wood entry door was closed, his eyes looked again at the landing and then slowly moved up the stair railing – nothing.

Who said that? He scanned the left wall of the Foyer – closet door slightly ajar – aha. Sister must be hiding in there. As quiet as pointy-toed-cowboy boots could tip-toe across tile he approached. And all at once, with all he had, he swung open the door and let out his best lion’s roar(which sounded more like a scarred cat.) Nothing. Nobody in the closet. Nothing but coats – and stuff. But no Sis.

“I love you.”

“Huh?” Ricky jumped.

His eyes left the closet. He inched sideways, pausing between each small-sliding-step.

It was the first thing you’d see entering the house. Hanging on the Foyer wall, opposite the entry door, was a picture; framed in silver. A small light illuminated from the top. Actually, it was three pictures in one.

The first thing Ricky saw was the face of Jesus – staring, right, at, him. He walked slow, eyes glued to the eyes glued, to him. The 3-D picture changed to Jesus on the cross, as Ricky moved front and center. The little boys head tilted slightly as he gazed at the man on the cross. He had never really looked at it before. The man’s head was bleeding from what looked like pointy sticks wrapped around his head. And blood ran down his hands and feet and side.

The little boys chin started its little quiver, it always happened just like that. First his lips grew tight. The corners dropped. And the bottom lip pushed up, making a quivering, upside down smile. And then, three jerky inhales through his nose and an exhaled whimper caused his eyes to leak – every time, just like that. Ricky’s sisters always knew the dam was going to break as soon as they saw that quiver. Kids at school knew, too. And they were cruel. “Cry baby’s quiver – here comes the river,” they’d say. Ricky hated it, but he couldn’t help it. His eyes dropped to his pointy boots, and saw a tear hit the tile. I feel all mixed up, he thought, with his upside down smile.

He slid his sole across the liquid soul pouring out on the floor. He moved two steps to his left wiping his eyes with the tail of his tee-shirt. When he looked back the man wasn’t on the cross, but floating in the clouds – How come He’s looking right at me? A white robe –like a sheet – wrapped around Him. He had scars, holes in his hands and feet, but He wasn’t bleeding. His hands and arms were open wide as if to say; “I love you.”

The quiver quickened, and the river flowed. A little boy’s knees hit a wet tile floor. Little hands rose toward the man in the clouds. And a little voice whispered, “I love you, too.”

The little boy grew, into a man. The pictures long gone, but the man in the picture and His Voice live on…listen I think I hear Him now.

“I love you.”

***

Hopeeee New Year

~
The clock struck twelve and the calendar did too – welcome to 2012!


Maybe it’s a sign of aging, but I didn’t stay up to watch the old year gone, however, I was up before the New Years’ dawn.

Watching the night sky fade, I thought of 2011, and the eleventh hour. I felt the morning chill and longed for the sun. It waited. The dark clung hard. I shivered. A hunger for light, for warmth, gnawed cold.

Will the cold ever go? Will the darkness give way? How long must I wait?

Silence…and then quietly, stretching wings and heads tilting toward heaven. The birds started slow, short and sweet. Still in the dark, still in the cold – they started to sing. Like the echo of angels, from a long ago silent night, welcoming the Dayspring.

And then…the sky rolled back the black.

Shades of orange hit the horizon

Blue and grey splashed across the sky

Light rolled like a mighty wave, chasing darkness toward the west, leaving only traces of dark, hiding behind the trees.

And looking back and looking forward, I just have to say – Happy New Year.

Yes, we have hurdles and hills, but no matter what there is Hope.

No matter what you hear on the news. No matter what the doctors say. No matter what you see in your bank account. No matter how hopeless you may feel. There is hope for joy, for peace for fulfillment. There is a Light that can warm the cold, fill the hunger and chase the dark.

Where can you find such hope? Well…

My hope is built on nothing less

Than Jesus’ blood and righteousness.

I dare not trust the sweetest frame,

But wholly trust in Jesus’ Name.

Refrain

On Christ the solid Rock I stand,

All other ground is sinking sand;

All other ground is sinking sand.

When darkness seems to hide His face,

I rest on His unchanging grace.

In every high and stormy gale,

My anchor holds within the veil.

Refrain

His oath, His covenant, His blood,

Support me in the whelming flood.

When all around my soul gives way,

He then is all my Hope and Stay.

Refrain

When He shall come with trumpet sound,

Oh may I then in Him be found.

Dressed in His righteousness alone,

Faultless to stand before the throne.

Refrain