sure you carry out His wrath,” he asserts.
There is nothing but silence in the air as his words hang heavy. My body is numb, and all I can feel are the little hairs on my arms standing up. I just stand there and wait until my mind stops racing and slowsdown enough to comprehend what just happened. Just when I think everything in my life begins to settle, I’m pulled into another season of uncertainty. I suddenly feel so void of anything that’s real that I start to subconsciously giggle inside.
Gabe speaks up. “Assuming you are correct and this vision was purely from God and not your subconscious, why, of all the people in the world, would He choose two ordinary people who can barely get through a day of school without being pushed, punched, ridiculed, snickered at, or made to feel totally invisible?”
“Why indeed would God choose to do His bidding by empowering common, ordinary, everyday people with supernatural gifts and abilities? Because He is God and everyone has value to Him. It’s what people least expect.”
“You’re clearly insane, you know,” I simply say, frustrated with this ridiculous conversation.
“If your mother was here today, would you question her sanity?”
Now I’m irritated. “My mother is not the issue here.”
“From what I know of her, I believe she’s more than that.”
“Then you’ve clearly misinterpreted the message.”
“I didn’t ask for any of this any more than you did, but I hold true to your mother’s faith. She’s the true reason why you’re here … and deep inside I believe you know that.”
I move away from his cold stare and briefly disengage from the conversation. I stand there wondering what my mother would say to me right now, as I painfully search for a moment of clarity.
The truth is, I only came here because of his ties with Finnegan. Anything else is a departure of my better judgment to come here whether or not I dismiss his prophetic claims.
“I’m only fifteen years old,” I whisper.
“And David was just a boy, but his courage did not go unnoticed when he challenged Goliath. Why should you be any different?”
“Maybe because this senseless debate is absolute madness, and you’ve subjected yourself to believe it. The only thing I can take from this conversation is that your sanity is now in question.”
“I wasn’t expecting you to just simply accept this without a hint of incredulity, but I know your mother taught you better than that.”
“Has she? And what would you know of that? Were you ever around to see it?” I ask, aggravated now.
“I didn’t have to, but I knew your mother well enough to know that she stood by her convictions without a hint of hostility. I see somuch of her in you, and in that respect, I at least deserve a civil tone from you.”
I feel dejected. “I, didn’t mean to—”
“I know,” he says softly. “Arena, I’m not here to hinder you.”
“Then don’t.”
“Look, I understand the burdens that you and your brother have had to carry all these years, but eventually you’re going to have to let faith decide your choice to believe or not … your mother had to.”
“And if I choose not to?”
“Then humility will decide for you.”
I suddenly feel a slight sense of guilt shower over me while I muse over the selfless nature of my mother’s faith. I may have been out of line with Father Joseph, but I just can’t entertain the idea of this conversation … not right now, anyway. “Suppose what you are saying is all true, in a relative sense. How are we to know who is evil, who to forgive, who to lead?” I ask.
“Call on Him and He will guide you. Listen to Him and He will show you. You will know your enemy, and the time will come when you will have to slaughter him. Those who listen will follow, and God will forgive all who ask.”
“Did the sixth commandment suddenly divorce your moral conscience? You know, Thou Shalt Not Kill?”
“There’s no escaping death.”
“So
There is nothing but silence in the air as his words hang heavy. My body is numb, and all I can feel are the little hairs on my arms standing up. I just stand there and wait until my mind stops racing and slowsdown enough to comprehend what just happened. Just when I think everything in my life begins to settle, I’m pulled into another season of uncertainty. I suddenly feel so void of anything that’s real that I start to subconsciously giggle inside.
Gabe speaks up. “Assuming you are correct and this vision was purely from God and not your subconscious, why, of all the people in the world, would He choose two ordinary people who can barely get through a day of school without being pushed, punched, ridiculed, snickered at, or made to feel totally invisible?”
“Why indeed would God choose to do His bidding by empowering common, ordinary, everyday people with supernatural gifts and abilities? Because He is God and everyone has value to Him. It’s what people least expect.”
“You’re clearly insane, you know,” I simply say, frustrated with this ridiculous conversation.
“If your mother was here today, would you question her sanity?”
Now I’m irritated. “My mother is not the issue here.”
“From what I know of her, I believe she’s more than that.”
“Then you’ve clearly misinterpreted the message.”
“I didn’t ask for any of this any more than you did, but I hold true to your mother’s faith. She’s the true reason why you’re here … and deep inside I believe you know that.”
I move away from his cold stare and briefly disengage from the conversation. I stand there wondering what my mother would say to me right now, as I painfully search for a moment of clarity.
The truth is, I only came here because of his ties with Finnegan. Anything else is a departure of my better judgment to come here whether or not I dismiss his prophetic claims.
“I’m only fifteen years old,” I whisper.
“And David was just a boy, but his courage did not go unnoticed when he challenged Goliath. Why should you be any different?”
“Maybe because this senseless debate is absolute madness, and you’ve subjected yourself to believe it. The only thing I can take from this conversation is that your sanity is now in question.”
“I wasn’t expecting you to just simply accept this without a hint of incredulity, but I know your mother taught you better than that.”
“Has she? And what would you know of that? Were you ever around to see it?” I ask, aggravated now.
“I didn’t have to, but I knew your mother well enough to know that she stood by her convictions without a hint of hostility. I see somuch of her in you, and in that respect, I at least deserve a civil tone from you.”
I feel dejected. “I, didn’t mean to—”
“I know,” he says softly. “Arena, I’m not here to hinder you.”
“Then don’t.”
“Look, I understand the burdens that you and your brother have had to carry all these years, but eventually you’re going to have to let faith decide your choice to believe or not … your mother had to.”
“And if I choose not to?”
“Then humility will decide for you.”
I suddenly feel a slight sense of guilt shower over me while I muse over the selfless nature of my mother’s faith. I may have been out of line with Father Joseph, but I just can’t entertain the idea of this conversation … not right now, anyway. “Suppose what you are saying is all true, in a relative sense. How are we to know who is evil, who to forgive, who to lead?” I ask.
“Call on Him and He will guide you. Listen to Him and He will show you. You will know your enemy, and the time will come when you will have to slaughter him. Those who listen will follow, and God will forgive all who ask.”
“Did the sixth commandment suddenly divorce your moral conscience? You know, Thou Shalt Not Kill?”
“There’s no escaping death.”
“So
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