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41

I was called and given a task by my Father. He was having some sort of dispute with an elderly and quite frail man-- a priest of sorts, and with that man’s sons and as they argued my Dad signaled for me to take hold of the old man and I did so, lifting him out of his wheelchair and hoisting him like a sack of potatoes over my shoulder. As I did this, my Dad secretly handed me a heavy gold bar-- 20kg, that I took in one hand and carried off with me along with the old man so quickly that none of the others could even react beyond shouting- Hey hey hey!

I hopped over a railing and down a series of terraced walls to a pool/hot tub below and entered the water with both the old man and the gold bar, quite out of the reach of those above. I found a box with a hinged lid and a handle, like a box for carrying a flute, or musical instrument and I put the gold bar inside so that I could conceal it from view as I carried it away with me. And so I did.

I took this treasure, knowing that it must be hidden for a time, so leaving the old man behind in the hot tub, I set out and walked among ruins- either the remnants of buildings, or perhaps abandoned buildings that were once under construction, ducking beneath scaffolding and crawling over stones and concrete until I found a hole in the wall to hide this case.

42

Oh Brandi…

43

A man came to me as I was leaving a coastal village. My bags were packed and I was about to depart this place that was like a seaside town built into the cliffs, like in Monaco with a small protected bay of water where boats were anchored. We had been studying there together for some time, in a small group at some sort of school or seminary. There were three of us that had grown close, and with this one man I shared a deeper bond and so in addition to signing a dedication in one another’s text books (a massive tome) for this one friend I had also written a long letter of thanks.

He came running toward me as I was loading my bags into my truck and opening his text, he showed me where the third friend had signed and written a note, then he turned to the page where I had simply signed my name-- and with tears he asked-- “That’s it? You just sign your name and go?”

I said to him-- “No John-- I’ve written you a letter.” -and I showed him, tucked within the pages of his book that there was a letter hidden. He took it in his hands and without even reading it he began to weep, in relief and in thanks for this personal note. Seeing how emotionally touched he became, I too began to weep, and I was completely overcome by the flood of emotions-- I guess in response to his reaction to my simple note, but then also the fact that we were parting, likely never to see one another again. As I wept with him we embraced, and the tears would not stop. I fell to my knees, weak from the experience and enormous waves of sorrow came over me. The tears streamed from my eyes, like water from a tap.

I said to him-- “I fear for this place.” -And he, thinking I meant this seminary, or this city, said-- “Me too. I really do fear for this place.”

I told him-- gathering myself up and composing myself. “No John, I fear for this earth. War is coming.”

44

It was one of those nights where dreams came in waves.

First there were 4 rabbits, -one black, one gray, and two white ones. They were as normal rabbits and somewhat tame as they increasingly came near to me and let me touch them. The black one was the most skittish, but it too eventually let me pet, and pushed itself up against me just to be close.

Then I was given babysitting duty and put in charge of a small baby in one of those baby carriers. She was almost asleep, and I pushed a button to make the carrier vibrate, which helped the babe rest completely. My Dad was sitting on the ground, next to a tree in a park-like setting, so I took the carrier over and set it next to him, but the baby soon woke up again. I went and picked her up to walk around with her at the mother’s suggestion.

Then I was at the Port of some unknown city by the bay. I didn’t know the name of the city, nor the name of the place I had to go to-- it was like my memory was foggy, or I was confused and I went down to the docks where there were many water taxis and a kind man offered to help me get to where I needed to go. He showed me a map of the area, but nothing was familiar. I told him that I had been concussed, and that I had no clear memory. He was very patient with me, and all I could tell him was that I thought I had to get farther north. He took me by boat to another harbor farther north and he paid my passage fee as I didn’t even have a wallet with me.

From there I was in a car, in the passenger seat, resting as my wife was driving. There were two kids in the back and we were driving a highway, that included some mountainous terrain, with curves and cliffs leading down from a height toward the coastline below. I felt the car jerk a little and opening my eyes, I saw that we had veered onto the shoulder a little bit. I asked my wife if she was tired and needing a break, but she said she was fine and that we were almost to our destination. A few minutes later I felt the car shudder and opening my eyes again I gasped as we went fishtailing from one side of the road to the other and over an embankment that launched us high into the air. We all braced for impact, and I prayed, asking God to protect us and preserve us as we flew through the air crossing a field below. There was no crash. We came to a gentle stop without as much as a bump and all got out of the car at a border crossing.

Finally, I was at small dinner with a couple of doctor friends and a young woman who I know. I had a little itch on my shoulder, so I removed my jacket, taking my left arm out of my sleeve to look at my shoulder and there was what looked like the tail end of a little wire sticking out of my skin. I pulled at this string of wire and realized it was a nylon suture, like we use in surgery. I pulled at it until I had a couple of feet sticking out. I said to my friends-- look at this! They immediately recognized it as suture material and one of them reached into the pocket of his hospital scrubs and pulled out a pair of shears that he reached over with, snipping the suture off at the skin. He said-- someone must have left a little suture inside you… But I explained that I’ve never had surgery on that shoulder. He kind of chuckled, knowing about my taxi ride, and my car crash— ‘Well you’re kind of having a bit of a bad day.’

45

I was on assignment. As some kind of G-man. Like one of the men in black, and I was flying in a small four-seater yellow airplane with my partner who was dressed similarly in a suit and seated beside me in the cockpit as we approached a small Spanish seaside village. He had been assigned to me, and I was just getting to know him. I said-- 'You’ve got the stick for landing" and I pointed out two runways that I called Sandy Left and Sandy Right. I told him to land on Sandy Left and we flew past the town and circled back toward it, so that what was on the left, was now on our right. I pointed to a tall tower near the end of the runway and told him to bring it to a stop near that tower.

He landed the plane perfectly, smooth as silk without even the smallest bump, and stopped the plane right on the mark. We got out and together we pushed the plane backwards into a carport on one side at the base of the tower-- “Out of sight, out of mind” I said to him and he followed me through the door of the carport and into a residence. “Abandoned?” he asked.

It was my house, as it turned out. As soon as we came through the door, a little dog came bounding towards us excitedly, with a tail that wagged his whole body. I greeted him-- “Hello Buddy!” and he ran back and forth between me and my partner, who was quite incredulous with the surroundings and the dog alike-- it was quite unexpected. “You live here?”

I winked at him and started heading up the stairs-- my wife’s purse was laying on the kitchen table, so I knew she was home. As I went up the stairs, the dog followed me barking at my partner who stood below and at the first landing the dog leaped despite our repeated cries not to-- right into his arms below. He caught the dog and together they tumbled backwards onto a sofa in the living room.

Then a young girl appeared from a hallway and plopped herself down at the foot of the stairway. She was about 15 years old and she feigned pouting, with her arms across her chest. “And who are you?” I teased. She looked nervously at my partner in the living room, then back at me and she nodded her head with a grin. “You still want one?” I asked. 'No-- YOU do" she fired back.

I came back down the stairs and asked-- “First-- what is your name?”

“Marin” she said.

“Karen?” I teased again.

“Daddy, stop!” -with a foot stomp.

As I got down the stairs to her she leaped into my arms and wrapped both of her arms and her legs around me in the tightest bear hug and I held her like that, walking over toward my partner, apologetically telling him-- “Someone still needs Daddy-Daughter hugs.”

"No, YOU do! she insisted, playfully slugging me as we tumbled also onto a couch.

It was home, like a secret hideaway, but with every possible comfort.

46

I was with a group of people that included family-- a brother, sister-in-law, sister, wife and son, as well as a number of co-workers and we were traveling together. Among the group of co-workers, we each had what was like a traveling-style tool box, a sort of attache case full of tools and measuring instruments, small enough to be brought as carry-ons. With these in hand we were arranging a last minute flight home, returning from a job elsewhere and the earliest flight available put us on a cargo jet.

It was kind of a hybrid craft, with one section of the large plane set up as any passenger jet would be, but we were all squeezed into a large cargo area-- just an open, carpeted conference room with chairs loosely placed around a table that faced a large window, or windshield of glass where we could look out. There were a few boxes and crates at the back of the room, but it was otherwise mostly empty except for our group.

I stood at the back near the door to the hallway that separated our section from the passenger section, and there I set down my tool case and changed out of my work clothes. It seems like the timeline had been compressed to catch this flight and I hadn’t even had time to change my clothes. A flight attendant remarked that usually people change before boarding the plane, a comment I shrugged off with a ‘we all do what we gotta do.’

Then I joined the group at the table and my sister-in-law brought out a plate of fresh-baked cookies of many kinds to share. Everyone dug in, but I limited myself to just one-- aware of a need to limit my sweets. There was an unending supply and everyone had as many as they liked. I eventually broke down and sampled a couple more that reminded me of the cookies my mom used to bake.

And from there I was in a truck and eventually stuck in traffic as a commotion ahead of me prevented me from moving forward. A group of law enforcement officers all in body armor and helmets were about to serve a warrant on someone. The media was there to report as it happened, but the line of Officers prevented me from getting through the intersection. I managed to back up and wrangle around them, but it forced me to head down a narrow back alley, and there were pedestrians upset that I would try to drive my big truck through there, so I pulled my mountain bike out and left the truck behind.

I rode with others, one on a scooter looking thing, another on a bike, a girl on roller blades-- and each of us began a descent down a steep street. The scooter guy turned sharply in front of me to take a bike-path on one side, while the rest of us stayed on the street. It was a very steep and long hill, and while I raced down at high speeds, I had to get fully on the brakes in order to stop at intersections below on the way down. I was worried I’d burn the rubber brake pads entirely before getting to the bottom.

At one point I arrived at the top of a climbing wall, and undaunted, I rode this bike straight down the face of it at an impossible angle, once again squeezing the brake handles until my hands ached. As I neared the bottom, I expertly pulled my front wheel up so that my rear wheel touched the padded floor mats first, and in slow motion, I bounced back up into the air as if I had landed on a trampoline-- and I floated up and softly landed the bike right back up at the top of the wall. From there I could survey the land below, like I was on a vista overlooking a valley.

47

I have spent so many nights in spirit… in a classroom… at the table… the breaking of bread, shared among friends. After one such event I awoke with a start and a fearful understanding. The thought was as a revelation, like an electric shock so powerful it seizes and shakes and causes great pain.

This is hell.