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Seven Levels of Ascension: Call Upon His Name
"There will come a Time, and is indeed upon us, where those who Worship will no longer be Bound within the Walls of the Temple. But in Spirit and in Truth."
The Gospels
"Our Bodies are a Temple, the Flesh Home to our Soul. Eternity, the Doorway of Escape. But, escape to Where?"
🌈
A #WRITCO Series
📚
(Dedicated to those lives lost to Terrorism)
🦄
THE PENITENT SOUL
🤲🏿
We just do not know, do we?
Waking up in the Morning. Everything seems Perfectly Normal. The Sun is shining brightly, not a Cloud in the Sky. The Beautiful Song of the Red-Crested Robin, Colorful Blue Jay and Red-Breasted Cardinal. Nature was in Full Bloom, the Aromic Fragrance of Sassafras and Lilac Wafting through the Window. Tickling my Nostrils like the strings of a Harp, Mellifluously played in a Philharmonic Symphony.
And I didn't think to slip on anything but my Bathrobe, slippers and Shower cap. My Hair was still Braided, bless the Lord, but hadn't Set. So as I ran Soap and Suds over my Body, I Meditated on Last Night's Sermon. Matthew 5:16 'Let our Light Shine to bring Glory to God in the Eyes of the World as a Testimony.' It was Powerful, Direct and Motivational. Our Congregation took the Word to Heart, and we Outreached through in-person and Online Ministries.
But one man did not appreciate our Efforts.
"I don't give a damn about your beliefs or f*cking Jesus," he shouted. "Y'all can go to Hell as far as I'm concerned!"
One of our Parishioners did a cardinal no-no. "Excuse me sir," she reached out. "But Jesus can touch your soul too."
"F*ck Jesus and f*ck you too!"
I pulled her back. She was in tears as the man seemed to go his way.
I never knew his name, but I'd prayed for him all week leading up to the Sabbath. Now as I finished rinsing off the suds from my body, I wrapped a Towel around my waist and just stood in front of the Mirror. I began talking to the Holy Ghost in me, looking at my reflection and thankful God had blessed me as He had done. I was in my Thirties, short but strong, dark but full of God's Light, small but with a voice. And I prayed aloud.
"Lord touch that man's Heart and Mind. Let his Tongue only speak Your Word, and Guide him into the Truth according to Your Will. In Jesus Name, Amen."
And as I just finished these words, before I slipped into my dress, I received a Call.
"Pastor Cheryl," it started. "I'm so very sorry."
My heart dropped. Suddenly, I had this sinking feeling.
The voice continued. "There was an incident in your Temple."
It was a Detective I had assumed by this point. And I knew, deep within my soul I knew. We'd become targets here lately, but you always hope against hope.
"13 people have been injured so far, we're not sure," she confirmed. "We don't know exactly how many died."
She tried to be consoling, but to no avail. I asked her for the hospital they were being treated at.
*************
As I raced to the Hospital, my mind was racing. After all, this was my Parish, my Flock.
My Children who were injured. And as their Mother, I wept.
Indeed, thirteen were injured, two severe.
One was the culprit, the very selfsame man who curse the Name of God. Apparently, he was the Gunman. He'd been shot in the throat by SWAT, so he was unable to talk, eyes almost deep red. The Holy Spirit led me to ask him if he wished for Salvation. Blink once for no, twice for yes.
For a long pause, nothing.
I had thought either he couldn't, or didn't want to respond. Then, slowly, he blinked once. My heart dropped. I thought 'this man was going to die without God's Grace.' And in spite of what he'd done, heinous as it was, no one deserves eternal torment.
Then a second blink.
He held out his hand, and immediately I was reminded of my mother's deathbed.
I wept.
His hand went cold and limp.
*************
But we just never know, you know? Because on the same day he was saved and died, Samuelle also passed away. The only fatality in the mass shooting. The ultimate tragedy is that this was a pre service prayer meeting with our outreach group.
A soul was delivered at the cost of one of our dearly beloved.
In the week that followed, after his service and burial, our Foyer was Named after dear Samuelle. Our dear brother of great Testimony of Healing and a Staunch Witness for Christ.
We began to have these Daily Prayers from then on, a small rotating group of us Believers. Calling on the Name of the Lord.
🌈 📖
THANK YOU FOR READING
🦄 😇
ALWAYS BELIEVE
🙏🏿 💯
© I Am MichAel
The Gospels
"Our Bodies are a Temple, the Flesh Home to our Soul. Eternity, the Doorway of Escape. But, escape to Where?"
🌈
A #WRITCO Series
📚
(Dedicated to those lives lost to Terrorism)
🦄
THE PENITENT SOUL
🤲🏿
We just do not know, do we?
Waking up in the Morning. Everything seems Perfectly Normal. The Sun is shining brightly, not a Cloud in the Sky. The Beautiful Song of the Red-Crested Robin, Colorful Blue Jay and Red-Breasted Cardinal. Nature was in Full Bloom, the Aromic Fragrance of Sassafras and Lilac Wafting through the Window. Tickling my Nostrils like the strings of a Harp, Mellifluously played in a Philharmonic Symphony.
And I didn't think to slip on anything but my Bathrobe, slippers and Shower cap. My Hair was still Braided, bless the Lord, but hadn't Set. So as I ran Soap and Suds over my Body, I Meditated on Last Night's Sermon. Matthew 5:16 'Let our Light Shine to bring Glory to God in the Eyes of the World as a Testimony.' It was Powerful, Direct and Motivational. Our Congregation took the Word to Heart, and we Outreached through in-person and Online Ministries.
But one man did not appreciate our Efforts.
"I don't give a damn about your beliefs or f*cking Jesus," he shouted. "Y'all can go to Hell as far as I'm concerned!"
One of our Parishioners did a cardinal no-no. "Excuse me sir," she reached out. "But Jesus can touch your soul too."
"F*ck Jesus and f*ck you too!"
I pulled her back. She was in tears as the man seemed to go his way.
I never knew his name, but I'd prayed for him all week leading up to the Sabbath. Now as I finished rinsing off the suds from my body, I wrapped a Towel around my waist and just stood in front of the Mirror. I began talking to the Holy Ghost in me, looking at my reflection and thankful God had blessed me as He had done. I was in my Thirties, short but strong, dark but full of God's Light, small but with a voice. And I prayed aloud.
"Lord touch that man's Heart and Mind. Let his Tongue only speak Your Word, and Guide him into the Truth according to Your Will. In Jesus Name, Amen."
And as I just finished these words, before I slipped into my dress, I received a Call.
"Pastor Cheryl," it started. "I'm so very sorry."
My heart dropped. Suddenly, I had this sinking feeling.
The voice continued. "There was an incident in your Temple."
It was a Detective I had assumed by this point. And I knew, deep within my soul I knew. We'd become targets here lately, but you always hope against hope.
"13 people have been injured so far, we're not sure," she confirmed. "We don't know exactly how many died."
She tried to be consoling, but to no avail. I asked her for the hospital they were being treated at.
*************
As I raced to the Hospital, my mind was racing. After all, this was my Parish, my Flock.
My Children who were injured. And as their Mother, I wept.
Indeed, thirteen were injured, two severe.
One was the culprit, the very selfsame man who curse the Name of God. Apparently, he was the Gunman. He'd been shot in the throat by SWAT, so he was unable to talk, eyes almost deep red. The Holy Spirit led me to ask him if he wished for Salvation. Blink once for no, twice for yes.
For a long pause, nothing.
I had thought either he couldn't, or didn't want to respond. Then, slowly, he blinked once. My heart dropped. I thought 'this man was going to die without God's Grace.' And in spite of what he'd done, heinous as it was, no one deserves eternal torment.
Then a second blink.
He held out his hand, and immediately I was reminded of my mother's deathbed.
I wept.
His hand went cold and limp.
*************
But we just never know, you know? Because on the same day he was saved and died, Samuelle also passed away. The only fatality in the mass shooting. The ultimate tragedy is that this was a pre service prayer meeting with our outreach group.
A soul was delivered at the cost of one of our dearly beloved.
In the week that followed, after his service and burial, our Foyer was Named after dear Samuelle. Our dear brother of great Testimony of Healing and a Staunch Witness for Christ.
We began to have these Daily Prayers from then on, a small rotating group of us Believers. Calling on the Name of the Lord.
🌈 📖
THANK YOU FOR READING
🦄 😇
ALWAYS BELIEVE
🙏🏿 💯
© I Am MichAel
