Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Chapter 3 - Overheard

It was an early day in the fall, long before the holidays set in. My voice was heard. The moment seemed entirely natural as it wasn’t the first time there has come an answer to the alone and prayerful. No, that’s not completely true. God’s child was there, too. We named him Christian. Daddy was at work and the youngn’s were just up the street and heading home from school. On this certain day, I viewed them making their way through the golden leaves and bright sunshine that was matched only by the happiness that surrounded the children. I was so compelled by the sight of their sweetness to utter,
“Praise the Lord.”
“The kingdom of Heaven is at hand.”
“Praise the Lord,” I said. Not spontaneously, as before, but in a more matter-of-fact way. I had just answered Heaven and it seemed the appropriate thing to say to such an announcement. It was enough to knock the smile right off my face.
“You will have your ministry, but first, there will be death.”
What great calm this disembodied voice and I had shared previously became near hysteria as I backed out of the sunshine and away from the window.

“There must be some mistake!” my mind screamed back at the glass.
“There are no mistakes in Heaven, only in people,” was the reply. That was all I heard, maybe because that was all I would listen to. What hysteria! I thought I was going to die! The voice said so. Being faithful, I quickly accepted what surely must be God’s will.
When Gary, that’s Christian’s daddy, came home, I told him of the voice and the revelation.
“If this be God’s plan, then I have one, too. Take out insurance and move the family. I want to die in the serenity of the country,” I told him. Amazingly he obliged me. Three months later we were well settled on five splendid acres of woods, meadow, creek, pond, and all the appropriate wildlife. We even had a few chickens. By summertime, I had forgotten the despair that brought us to that heaven-on-earth.
That is, until Christian, our four-year-old went Code Blue ten hours after diagnosis of a brain tumor. Again those rude words, in soft-spoken tones, came fully forward in my mind.
“You will have your ministry but first there will be death,” were the exact words and that is exactly what was happening. How I ever came to believe I could die and then have a ministry must have been the hysteria of hearing angels. After all, Christ is the only one to have achieved this supernatural feat.

And then came another shock. It was Christian’s ministry I would be perpetuating, not my own. I would spend the next four months watching the littlest of Generals for Christ touch countless lives with his testimonial of God’s love. Could it be I only overheard the angel talking to Christian some eight months ago? I am still giving that one some thought. Christian did not have to try to be holy, like I did. He was only four years old, and dying.

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