From: emery@tc.fluke.COM (John Emery)
Newsgroups: talk.religion.newage
Subject: Letters to Tom [10 of 10]
Date: 8 Apr 92 15:06:19 GMT
Organization: John Fluke Mfg. Co., Inc., Everett, WA


The prayers reached to Heaven from Ashton, from Bacon's Corner, and
everywhere in between, and it was as if the Lord God was waiting
for just the right moment, just this particular cry from His people.
He began to move His sovereign hand.

Tal got the report from a courier in the early hours Wednesday
morning.  "Guilo!"
Guilo was at his side in an instant.  Tal's voice was strained with
excitement.  "The Lord has spoken!  She's ready!"
"Praise the Lord!" said Guilo.  "Where? When?"
"She's left Ashton and is almost to Henderson.  It'll only be a matter
of hours.  We'll meet her there with everything we can muster!  If we
can get there before Destroyer and his minions find out, we may be able
to tip the scales at last!"
Guilo drew his sword with a metallic ring and a flash of light.  "A 
turning point!"
"Mota and Signa will remain here with their warriors ready, watching
that breach."  Tal smiled for the first time in weeks.  "They just 
might get some real action today!"




Dear Tom,

I arrived by bus about seven o'clock this morning, and I imagine I'll
get a room soon enough.  For now, I'm quite comfortable just sitting
in Lakeland Park near the city center.  The sun is warm, the bench is
dry, and the nearby pond is placid and full of ducks.

I would not call the city of Henderson an inviting place, but it does
have some major advantages: it is a large, metropolitan city, and 
therefore easy to hide in, and it has an immense downtown library, an
excellent place for finding certain information.  I'll be going there
today, or tomorrow, or whenever I finish a more immediate matter
demanding my attention.

Sally.


A more immediate matter.  Sally was a little surprised at her detached,
businesslike tone, as if she were going to type a letter or make a
purchase.  In reality, she was about to enter into a relationship
that could potentially alter the course of her entire life, totally
restructure her world view, and bring into consideration every moral
issue, every act, every decision, and every attitude of all her
previous years; her deepest scars and emotions, the most personal and
guarded areas of her life, would be laid bare.  The relationship would
be confrontational, perhaps devastating.

At least, that is what she expected from the arrangement, and for that
reason she'd pondered the move all through the night, weighing the pros
and cons, considering the costs,  testing and eliminating the options.
It became clear to her that she would have to pay an enormous price in
terms of ego and self-will, and that the arrangement would carry staggering
implications for the future.  But every second thought was entertained
and answered, every objection received a fair hearing, and in between the
fierce and heated debates Sally conducted with herself on the floor of 
her mind, she slept on it.

By the time the light of day peeked through the bus windows, she'd settled
in her mind that, with all things considered, such a major commitment
would be the most logical, practical, and desirable thing to do, with
advantages that far outweighted the disadvantages.

It was quiet in the park, with few people around besides a matron walking
her poodle and a few yuppies jogging to work.  She moved to another bench
closer to the pond, out in the full morning sun, and sat down, her duffel
bag beside her.

Then she took a good long look at herself.  Dressed in her jeans and blue
jacket, with a stocking cap on her head and a duffel bag beside her, she
looked like a homeless vagabond.
She was.
She looked solitary and lonely.
She was.
She also looked small and insignificant in a very large world, and that
carried more weight in her mind than anything else.  What must she look
like to a God big enough to have created this huge globe on which she was
sitting?  Like a microbe on a microscope slide?  How would He even find
her?

Well, all she could do was make some noise, call out to Him, cause a
disturbance, send up some verbal flares.  Maybe she could catch His
eye or His ear.

She placed her notebook in her lap and flipped to a page of notes she
had prepared.  Now...where to start?

She spoke softly, just barely forming the words on her lips.  She felt
self-conscious and she was willing to admit it.  "Uh...hello."  Maybe
He heard her, maybe He didn't.  She said it again. "Hello."  That should
be enough.  "I imagine You know who I am, but I'll introduce myself
anyway.  It just seems the thing to do.  My name is Sally Beth Roe, and
I guess one refers to You as ...God.  Or maybe Jesus.  I've heard that
done.  Or...Lord.  I understand You go by several titles, and so I hope
You'll indulge me if I grope a bit.  It's been a long time since I've
tried to pray.

"Uh...anyway, I would like to meet with You today, and discuss my life
and what possible role You might wish to play in it.  And thank You in
advance for Your time and attention."

She stared at her notes.  She'd gotten this far.  Assuming she'd secured
God's attention, she proceeded with the next item.  "To quickly review
what brought this meeting about, I guess You remember our last visit,
approximately thirty years ago, at the...uh...Mount Zion Baptist Church
in Yreka, California.  I want to You to know that I did enjoy our times
together back then.  I know I haven't said anything about it in quite
a while, and I apologize.  Those were precious times, and now they're
favorite memories.  I'm glad for them.

"So I suppose You're wondering what happened, and why I broke off our
relationship.  Well, I don't remember what happened exactly.  I know that
the courts gave me back to my mother, and she wasn't about to take me
to Sunday school like Aunt Barbara did, and then I went to live in a 
foster home, and then...Well, whatever the case, our times together just
didn't continue, and that's all...Well, I guess it's water under the
bridge..."

Sally paused.  Was there some kind of awakening happening inside her?
God could hear her.  She could sense it; she just knew it somehow.
That was strange.  It was something new.

"Well..." Now she lost her train of thought.  "I think I do sense that
You're listening to me, so I want to thank You for that."  She got her
thoughts back again.  "Oh, anyway, I guess I was an angry young woman,
and maybe I blamed You for my sorrows, but...at any rate, I decided that
I could take care of myself, and that's basically the way it went for
most of my life.  I'm sure You know the story: I tried atheism, and then
humanism with a strong dose of evolution thrown in, and that left me empty
and made my life meaningless; so then I tried cosmic humanism and mysticism,
and that was good for many years of aimless delusions and torment and,
to be honest, the mess I'm in right now, including the fact that I'm a
convicted felon.  You know all about that."

[Okay, Sally, now where do you go from here?  You might as well get to
 the point.]

"Well, anyway, I guess what I'm trying to say is that Bernice, back in
Ashton, was right, at least as far as Sally Roe is concerned.  I have
a moral problem.  I've read some of the Bible.  Uh... it's a good book...
it's a find piece of work--and I've come to see that You are a God of
morals, of ethics, of absolutes.  I guess that's what 'holy' means.  And
actually I'm glad for that, because then we can know where our boundaries
are; we can know where we stand...

"I'm beating around the bush, I know."

Sally stopped to think.  How should she say it?  Just what was it she wanted
from God?

"I guess..." [Oh-oh.  Emotion.  Maybe this is why I can't get around to it.]
"I guess I need to ask You about Your love.  I do know it's there;  Mrs.
Gunderson always talked about it, and so did my Aunt Barbara, and now I've
had a brief glimpse of it again in my talks with Bernice and that pastor,
Hank the Plumber.  I need to know that You'll..."

She stopped.  Tears were forming in the corners of her eyes.  She wiped
them away and took some deep breaths.  This was supposed to be business,
not some emotional, subjective experience she might later doubt.

"Excuse me.  This is difficult.  There are a lot of years involved, a lot
of emotion."  Another deep breath.  "Anyway, I was trying to say that...
I would like very much for You to accept me."  She stopped and let the
tightness in her throat ease.  "Because...I've been told that You love me,
and that You've arranged all my wrongs, my moral trespasses, to be paid for
and forgiven.  I've come to understand that Jesus died to pay my penalty,
to satisfy your holy justice.  Um...I appreciate that.  Thank You for that
kind of love.

"But I...I want to enter into that kind of relationship with You.  Somehow.
I have wronged You, and I have ignored You, and I have tried to be a god
myself, as strange as that may sound to You.  I have served other spirits,
and I have killed my own offspring, and I've worked hard to lead so many
astray..."

The tears were coming again.  Oh, well.  Considering the subject matter,
a few tears would not be inappropriate.

"But if You will have me...if You will only accept me, I would be more than
willing to hand over to You all that I am, and all that I have, whatever
it may be worth."  Words from thirty years ago came to her mind, and they
captured her feelings perfectly.

"Jesus..."

She couldn't stop the emotions this time.  Her face flushed, her eyes filled,
and she was afraid to go on.   But she did go on, even as her voice broke,
as tears ran down her cheeks, as her body began to quake.  "Jesus...I want
You to come into my heart.  I want You to forgive me.  Please forgive me."

She was crying and she couldn't stop.  She had to get out of there.  She
couldn't let anyone see her like this.

She grabbed her duffel bag and hurried away from the pond, turning off the
walkway into the nearby trees.  Under their sheltering, spring-fresh leaves,
she found a small clearing and sank to her knees, on the cool, dry ground.
With a new freedom that seclusion brought, the heart of stone became a heart
of flesh, the deepest cries of that heart became a fountain, and she and the
Lord God began to talk about things as the minutes slipped by unnoticed and
the world around her became unimportant.




Above, as if another sun had just risen, the darkness opened, and pure,
white rays broke through the treetops, flooding Sally Beth Roe with a
heavenly light, shining through to her heart, her innermost spirit,
obscuring her form with a blinding fire of holiness.  Slowly, without
sensation, without sound, she settled forward, her face to the ground,
her spirit awash with the presence of God.

All around her, like spokes of a wondrous wheel, like beams of light
emanating from a sun, angelic blades lay flat upon the ground, their
tips turned toward her, their handles extending outward, held in the
strong fists of hundreds of noble warriors who knelt in perfect, 
concentric circles of glory, light, and worship, their heads to the
ground, their wings stretching skyward like a flourishing, animated
garden of flames.  They were silent, their hearts filled with a holy
dread.

As in countless times past, in countless places, with marvelous, inscrut-
able wonder, the Lamb of God stood among them, the Word of God, and more:
the final Word, the end of all discussion and challenge, the Creator and
the Truth that holds all creation together--most wondrous of all, and
most inscrutable of all, the Savior, a title angels would always behold
and marvel about, but which only mankind could know and understand.

He had come to be the Savior of this woman.  He knew her by name; and
speaking her name, He touched her.

And her sins were gone.

A rustling began in the first row of angels, then in the next, and then,
like a wave rushing outward, the silken wings from row upon row of
warriors caught the air, raising a roar, and lifted the angels to their
feet.  The warriors held their swords Heavenward, a forest of fiery
blades, and began to shout in tumultuous joy, their voices rumbling
and shaking the whole spiritual realm.

Guilo, as brilliantly glorified as ever he was, took his place above 
them all, and swept his sword about in burning arcs as he shouted,
"Worthy is the Lamb!"
"Worthy is the Lamb!" the warriors thundered.
"Worthy is the Lamb!" Guilo shouted more loudly.
"Worthy is the Lamb!" they all answered.
"For He was slain!"  "For He was slain!"
Guilo pointed his sword at Sally Beth Roe, prostrate, her face to the
ground, still communing with her newfound Savior.  "And with His blood
He purchased for God the woman, Sally Beth Roe!"

"Worthy is the Lamb who was slain," Guilo began, and then they all
sang the words together with voices that shook the earth, "to receive
power and wealth and wisdom and strength and honor and glory and praise!"

Then came another roar, from voices and from wings, and another flashing
of hundreds of swords.  The wings took hold, and the skies filled with
warriors, swirling, shouting, cheering, worshiping, their light washing
over the earth for miles around.



Miles away, some of Destroyer's demons covered their eyes against the
blinding light.
"Oh no!" said one.  "Another soul redeemed!"
"One of our prisoners set free!" wailed another.
A quick, sharp-eyed spy returned from taking a closer look.
"Who is it this time?" they asked.
The spirit answered, "You will not like the news!"



Tal and Guilo embraced, jumping, spinning, laughing.  "Saved!  Sally
Beth Roe is saved!  Our God has her at last!"
They remained, along with their warriors, keeping the hedge about her 
strong and brilliant, making sure her conference with the Lord would
proceed undisturbed.

Time passed, of course, but no one seemed to notice or care.  Later--she
didn't know how much later--Sally passed her palms against the earth and
slowly lifted herself to a sitting position, brushing dry leaves and 
humus from her clothes and using a handkerchief to wipe her face.  She
had been through an uncanny, perfectly marvelous experience, and the effect
still lingered.  A change, a deep, personal, moral restoration had taken
place, not just in her subjective perceptions, but in fact.  This was
something new, something truly extraordinary.

"So this must be what they mean by 'getting saved,'" she said aloud.

Things were different.  The Sally Roe who first ducked into these 
woods was not the same Sally Roe that now sat in the leaves, a trembling,
awestruck, tear-stained, happy mess.

Before, she had felt lost and aimless.  Now she felt secure, safe in God's
hands.

Before, her life had no meaning.  Now it did, with even more purpose and
meaning yet to be discovered.

Before, she had been oppressed and laden with guilt.  Now she was cleansed.
She was free.  She was forgiven.

Before, she was alone.  Now she had a Friend closer than any other.


As for her old friends, her tormentors...
Outside that hedge, thrown there like garbage into a dumpster, Despair,
Death, Insanity, Suicide, and Fear sulked in the bushes, unable to
return.  They looked at each other, ready to squabble should any one
of them dare to say the first word.

They were out.  Vanquished.  Through.  Just like that.  Somehow, she'd
no sooner become a child of God than she began to assert her rights and
authority as such.  She didn't say a lot, she didn't make it flowery.
She simply ordered them out of her life.

"She learns fast," said Despair.
The others spit at him just for saying it.

--------
Selected readings from "Piercing the Darkness" by Frank E. Peretti