Buz

Unlike the previous two stories, Benny and Billy, this story is not based upon any real event, but  upon the premise: all struggles in life are the result of a spiritual battle between good and evil, with the understanding that God always protects His own.

I hope you enjoy reading Buz.

Buz

   Awakening with a start Trace was overcome with a shudder emanating from his very core; he felt somehow…violated. The most blissful sleep he’d had in weeks, no maybe months, or come to think of it, ever, had just been rudely interrupted. Rolling over, he turned a groggy eye toward his cell phone – 4:39 a.m., now wide awake, he groaned, Well, there goes another night down the drain! Tossing and turning in attempt to return to that euphoric state of sleep from which he’d been unceremoniously jerked, Trace finally gave up, threw the covers off with a curse, dragged his legs over the side of the bed, slapped his bare feet onto the wood floor and padded reluctantly into another day; it was 5:14 a.m. - he couldn't shake the sense of violation. It almost felt…unholy.

   Levi harbored no fondness for his minions. They were mere pawns useful only for his purposes - evil as they were - to war against the enemy to whom he’d sworn never to bow his knee. So when the latest offence from one of his minor lap-dogs occurred, he had not a second thought about casting him away to a remote outpost of obscurity. Where never seemed to matter to Levi, but this time it was a sleepy little community tucked away against the coast. He found it odd he’d not been attracted to this little gem long ago due to the fragrance of sulfur bubbling up from the spring in the center of town - Levi loved the smell of sulfur. But that aside, there was no apparent presence of the enemy - virgin territory – and that could play out either way; meaning easy prey, or those dwelling there were the most mind-numbing, uninteresting, prosaic people on earth, apathetic to any intervention.  And in Levi’s world, there was nothing worse than boredom. But this was opportunity and penalty possibly rolled into one. Delicious!

   Levi summoned the little insect into his presence and pronounced the sentence. The look of horror on the offender’s face was almost as satisfying as the sentence itself. The place of exile was always a well-kept secret from ranks of the servile – ever subject to the whims of Levi – until the final judgment. However, Levi, out of his Machiavellian sense of humor, would never relegate more than one offender at a time to these particularly torturous out of the way locations, while simultaneously demoting them to the status of plebe. Oh how Levi loved the power he held over the inhabitants of his world. Wincing in fear, and with a sulfurous poof, the criminal was removed to his place of confinement. Levi laughed, generating the ghastly sulfurous cough – a wicked conundrum - which had plagued him almost longer than he could remember; but remember he did, and it infuriated him. Swearing an eternal vow as he lumbered back to his den hacking and muttering, Feels like I’d cough up a lung! (As if that were even possible). Note to self, he mentally recorded, Find a way to reciprocate.

   Buz opened his eyes to find himself crouching on a precipice overlooking the rocky shore of who-knows-where; his “assignment,” as Levi called it, always attempting a positive spin on his worst edicts, lay below. Even from this vantage point he felt the boredom creeping into his very essence. The command: touch nothing but the dreams of the residents. What fun was there in that! No disease, no death, no destruction. And, he was here until Levi remembered to release him; the nefarious product of Levi’s selective memory, leaving Buz to rot in this tedium for who knows how long. He felt utterly plundered.

   Feeling out of sorts from his commutation Buz took stock of his new condition. Exactly what state did Levi leave me in this time anyway? he wondered, with no way at the moment to fully assess his outcome. Until he knew he must be cautious lest he risk full exposure to…them. Remaining unexposed was key to success. In attempt to transpose himself to a new location but failing to achieve launch, Buz quickly realized he would be living under certain restrictions; he despised Levi’s morbid sense of humor. He never seemed to tire of temporarily diverting his own objectives in order to satisfy his affinity for drama – in his world or theirs. Choosing not to waste further mental effort regarding Levi’s personal conundrum, Buz set off for exploration and surveillance in order to find his subject du jour, while fuming at his prospects for the future. After all, what was the purpose in existing without a game plan? It was getting dark.

   By 10 a.m. Trace was feeling exhausted from yet another night of diminished sleep, and disturbed by the lingering sense he’d awakened to so early in the morning; just one more thing on the pile of troubles which seemed to be his life. He headed to the break room at work hoping to catch a nap on the sofa - as long as Brad hadn’t first laid claim with his massive form, as was his usual M.O. Ah, score! he celebrated, as he slumped into the rolls and valleys of the cushions. Easing his eyelids closed, grateful the others had taken their break on the employee patio, Trace dropped quickly off to sleep after setting the alarm on his phone to vibrate in 15 minutes. With no comprehension of having been asleep, he suddenly awakened, adrenalin rushing, heart pumping, barely able to catch his breath, standing in the doorway of the break room poised to run. Momentarily disoriented, he stood frozen until his senses caught up then, pulling the phone out of his pocket, he checked the time remaining on the alarm – 13 minutes. Incredulous he looked over his shoulder to the clock on the break room wall expecting confirmation that he’d overslept his alarm – 10:05. Two minutes?! I was out for only two minutes? What just happened?

   From his vantage point Buz, the insect that he was, looked down from the upper corner of the break room so excited he nearly lost his grip on the ceiling. I recognize this one! I know him. This is going to be more fun than I anticipated, he mused, reflecting on a past commission. It will come nicely into play, quite useful, considering my restrictions, Buz ruminated, enjoying the recollection. Of all his previous assignments, this form of interaction, though new, was quite intriguing. Uncertain if this was one of Levi’s well-kept secrets or something original he had dreamt up just for him, he didn’t know – the peons aren’t usually privy to the big picture - either way, he was no longer quite as irked with Levi as he’d been. And this with only the most hesitant touch, he twittered, his arthropodal appendages twitching in anticipation. Visions of this being one of Levi’s most insidious methods to date darted across his devious mind. The human psyche is such an interesting playground, and gaining access through their dreams – genius! Buz realized, finding new respect for Levi, And all done without even leaving a trace. At that thought he lost his grip on the ceiling convulsing with laughter, Oh, I kill myself!

   Uttering an abrupt curse, Trace craned his neck around the corner looking into the hall and back to the break room verifying no one had seen what just happened. With a deep breath to calm himself, he thought, It’s just sleep deprivation. Shake it off and move on. Proceeding to get lost in the details of work, he was unaware of the scaly little intruder who was now shadowing his every move reconnoitering for the next event; every move, thought, emotion was being catalogued for future reference. If there was one thing Buz was good at it was stealth – and memory – which was a vast pool of resources just waiting to be tapped whenever and wherever he chose. That pool was paying off, he was beginning to remember more about his past exposure to this one; a serendipitous discovery he hoped Levi had overlooked.

   As Buz reflected he scowled at the one thing his kind found an outrage – omniscience, or actually the lack thereof. There was only One allowed that particular quality. It was an injustice none had overcome – yet. But in the meantime they’d mastered history, using it to their greatest advantage, while usually keeping their prey in the dark; the few setbacks were not to be spoken of among the ranks without risk of personal mayhem. To date no one dared the risk. Buz was thankful his knack for history would prove beneficial once again; evoking a venomous drool of excitement. However, he’d overlooked one small detail back then.

  Away on another plane of awareness, Neariah and Lael simultaneously alerted; senses heightened, swords at the ready, they awaited the call to duty – for they perceived a summons to service would soon arrive. They could feel emanations of the iniquitous pulse even before they knew from where it came. There was no doubt, they would be summoned. And they were ready. Paghaia is at work, they commented in one voice, A special one must be in peril.

   Exhausted and barely able to put one foot in front of the other, work day over and heading for his car, Trace could think of nothing but getting home, crashing on his sofa, and vegging-out the entire weekend. At this point the break room event was nearly forgotten, mostly due to the fog of sleep deprivation, and a strong desire bury it beyond the subconscious; the humiliation and embarrassment never to be made known. Pizza delivery was on speed dial, allowing dinner to be provided with the push of a button, accompanied by the last beer in the frig. The speed of delivery a direct result of having hired Juan, Caesar’s little brother, to mow the lawn. Connections, he congratulated himself, It’s all about connections. Sliding into the driver’s seat of his “vintage” economy car Trace held his breath until the engine turned over with a hearty chug. The drive home was predictable - and short, thankfully. Kicking off his shoes as he entered the living room, sofa in the cross-hairs, cell phone gripped for speed dial, he prepared for an unimpressive weekend. Buz was taking notes, hovering nearby.

   It was no secret that Levi’s intent was full subversion of his enemy’s plan. In his estimation man was a simple being, easily manipulated, which is surely why his enemy chose to interact with them; free-will was not an insurmountable challenge and Levi found muddling the choices heightened his desired effect; insinuating themselves into the subconscious prior to a free-will choice was where the fun really began; the stealth insertion of thoughts, intentions and emotions caused results much more entertaining than outright destruction or death – something those of his world were quite adept at accomplishing. Levi particularly enjoyed teaching his minions the technique he called “cutting the herd”; isolation, whether it be physical or emotional, was a weighty tool in his arsenal of tactics. Once that was accomplished…Well, it was all over but the shoutin’!

   Buz, having learned his lessons well, was not patient - nor were any of his kind for that matter – he wanted to get on with this sacrificial offering, hoping to thwart Levi’s personal muse of casting his condemned into a state of doldrums, while regaining his favor all at the same time. Levi spared no opportunity, he persecuted with impunity, even his own - he couldn’t help himself. However, Buz knew care must be taken. It was walking a fine line when playing the game of mastery against Levi while attempting to redeem oneself. Levi was capable of high praise for a tactic well played but never would condone being made a fool. After all, he had earned his position and ultimately bowed to none – acknowledge, maybe - bow, never!

   Hovering close at hand awaiting the next suitable opportunity, Buz would have made a pest of himself had he been in physical form, exciting as that was it had its definite down side. The invisible realm, even with the imposed current restrictions, was his favorite mode of operation. Levi would occasionally allow the aforementioned distinction, but only at his whim and never without his authority. The hordes were always watching with rapt anticipation awaiting that honor to fall upon one of them. Buz had yet to receive such an honor but was wanting to prove himself worthy. Maybe this would be his opportunity. Salivating a sulfurous froth from the excitement of his next encounter Buz could only wait. And yet…

   Paghaia’s steadfast position was not to be deterred by time or space, aided by Ruah’s faithful companionship; completely obscured his own darkness, Buz was unaware.

   Too tired to care how quickly Caesar arrived Trace aimed himself at the sofa and collapsed, feet draped over the arm at one end, his head resting on the other. Grabbing the TV remote from under last week’s newspaper on the coffee table he applied the point-and-shoot method to arrive at the evening news while resting his eyes. National News Channel’s Cameron Blake was reporting from yet another disaster site following an 8.3 earthquake…somewhere…in…the…

   Buz pounced with lightning speed dipping his spiny fingers into Trace’s subconscious and stirring as if he were wiggling his fingers in the muddy under-waters of a stagnant pond, bringing the sludge swirling to the surface. Trace, sighing heavily, waiting for the knock on the door, relaxed deeper into the calm sensation of floating, relieved at the thought of an entire weekend with no pressures ahead of him. Beginning with pizza, beer and…

   Startled, Trace heard it before he felt it, the deep rumble of an oncoming earthquake; having lived on the west coast he was fully aware of the effects. Bracing himself for the crack followed by the first thrust of the earth, he waited…but nothing - except an increasing roar sounding like the approach of a freight train. Deafening, the roar increased until it reached the grating and shrill pitch of a derailing engine - audibly painful. Trace, hands clasp over his ears, an instinctive attempt to shut out the earsplitting decibels, was helpless as the floor began to lurch under him. The unbearable pain from the din was crushing, he could feel a warm trickle of blood begin to seep between his fingers as his eardrums ruptured. He screamed in agony rolling to the floor with certain death only a millisecond away.

   But then, incomprehensively, rising faintly above the din Trace heard the long familiar voice of his grandmother whispering, Be still, Pedo, and know...

   Stunned by the sound of screams heard from the street as he arrived, Caesar tossed the pizza box, bolted toward the house, up the steps, through the unlocked door, into the living room. There he found Trace writhing on the floor in agony next to the sofa, hands over his ears, screaming hideous death screams unlike anything he’d ever heard before. Terrified by what he was witnessing, Caesar knelt down and grabbed Trace’s shoulders, calling his name, shouting over the screams.

   Shrieking at the touch, Trace cried out, “The train, man, the train! Get out of the way!” At the sound of his own voice his eyes shot open as his hands fell away from his ears. He looked at Caesar, stunned and confused, then at his hands expecting to see blood, there was none. Looking from his hands to the face of Caesar Trace lay unmoving and rigid on the floor, eyes filled with panic as he tried to comprehend the abrupt shift of reality.

   Across the room, watching from the side-lines, Buz was barely able to contain himself with jubilation at his success. What at first seemed to be an extreme restriction he was now finding rather exhilarating. His sinister mind began to whirr double-time with renewed aspirations. He watched as emotions etched their paths across Trace’s face. Ah! Fear, embarrassment, confusion, anxiety, just to catalogue a few, Buz complimented himself, licking his villainous lips in delight. He desired so much more, but for now he must work within his boundaries, experiencing both reverence and disdain for Levi’s ultimate power; the power he and his comrades all aspired to achieve.

   Already plotting his next permeation, Buz observed carefully as Trace recovered his senses. Wonderful things, emotions, Buz reminisced, as he began to recall his previous knowledge of Trace. Ah, it’s all coming back to me now. Childhood, such an impressionable time of life for these creatures. However, I didn’t realize how absolutely delicious the collateral damage would be back then – an investment I didn’t know I was making. Before he could further relish the celebration, Buz felt the unexpected swipe of a sword at his side causing him to double over in pain. He had not seen that coming!

   So swift was the attack, Neariah suddenly found himself on the battleground, sword burning white-hot with virtuous intent, dripping villainous blood - he never seemed to get use to that - all fueled by Paghaia’s powerful and timeless entreaties. However, the exhilaration more than made up for the lack of warning; there were times when no summons was issued – they were just sent. Seeing Lael, his faithful compatriot, positioned at his flank ready with sword poised as if waiting for a pitch, comforted him at times like these; when sending left them momentarily exposed, but never defenseless.

   “Thanks, Lael. You are a faithful defender”, Neariah said. ”Elyon acted quickly once again. This must be another of His prodigals.”

   On either side of Trace, Neariah and Lael adjusted their stance, swords at the ready, armor glistening bright white, looking down on Buz, their fierce and righteous expressions firmly fixed. Buz trembled knowing he was inconsequential in the grand scheme of things according to Levi. His puny little carapace useless, and only a minor pawn, left defenseless and restricted, he prepared for his demise. What I wouldn’t give to let these two goons have a dose of their own medicine! Buz thought self-righteously, not quite ready to give up the fight, his little insect claws quivering with indignant bravado as the swords fell – zzzaaap!

   Levi paused, turning his hideous nostrils to the wind, sniffed in disgust, and thought dismissively, Did I just smell something burning?

Ephesians 6:12-13, 18

For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the powers, against the world forces of this darkness, against the spiritual forces of wickedness in the heavenly places. Therefore, take up the full armor of God, so that you will be able to resist in the evil day, and having done everything, to stand firm… with all prayer and petition pray at all times in the Spirit, and with this in view, be on the alert with all perseverance and petition for all the saints.

Copy right 2013 Donna Larsen

Searching

While using the search engine on my computer and not coming up with the answer I was looking for, this thought came to me, In the very core of our beings a "search engine" exists.

You see I was trying to find the truth regarding a certain subject. I needed to separate the facts from fallacy - there's a lot of that in cyberspace. Please, just the truth! I've been tempted to scream at the computer screen.

Haven't you ever wished you could just click a button and have your world fall into place with all the right answers? I have.

I have come to believe we all have, deep within us, an "engine" driving us to find something that makes us feel worthwhile, meaningful or complete. It's inborn. It's undeniable. Are there any who truly have no craving for a purpose in their life? I don't think so. I believe it's a God created drive within us that cries out for fulfillment.

We can see it in friends, neighbors, colleagues, the local grocery clerk; all wanting their life to have meaning - ask them. How many do you suppose would say, I'm looking for a meaningless life. Yet, each one, according to their own circumstances, would have a different definition of what fulfills life...just as there are myriad items that can be typed into a search engine window.

I have found, for the most part, we look to relationships for meaning and fulfillment. I am confident we all have examples of utter failure in that department. Yet few of us have completely given up, exited the human rat-race and sequestered ourselves away in a cave in the remote mountains of some vast wilderness in order to avoid another relationship failure - thought about it maybe. Human contact, to whatever degree we take it, remains a common desire. Within the very nature of our being there is something deeper, a craving for more than just intimate human relationships; a desire for connection with something or someone beyond what our senses are able to comprehend. I believe we are looking for truth.

The Spiritual Connection

And again, according to the nature of human experience, there are numerous ways we seek to find this connection this truth - most having to do with our physical nature and needs. We seek to fulfill through the physical what can only be fulfilled through the heart, the spirit. And that becomes like pouring water into a bottomless well. Impossible to fill. Over time we will begin to feel hopeless in our pursuit. Eventual disappointment is inevitable. The search engine of our heart keeps coming up empty. There is only one result which fulfills the need. One answer, one truth.

Looking for Truth

I find the Internet a fascinating thing. It's like electricity. The evidence that it works is there yet I can't "see" it, making it difficult to grasp exactly how it works - the effects are there - I click on links, information pops up on the screen, answers are found. However I must beware, the Internet is full of misinformation. How do I know what is true? There are many voices in cyberspace wanting to be heard but not all speak the truth.

An act of Faith

By faith we Google! expecting some type of result. Connecting to this vast invisible web is an act of faith. We can't see it, touch it, taste it....you get the idea. Yet we can connect with it because we see the results. Connecting to our inner spiritual search engine is a bit like typing a word onto the line of an Internet search engine. We must have faith the connection will be made. But there are many voices.

One Truth

When trying to make that spiritual connection with God there are many opinions and deceptions but only one truth. By nature there can only be ONE truth. Everything else can only be opinion or deception. I've found truth in the world to be a fluid thing - constantly changing and subject to interpretation based upon desired results. I simply don't understand that line of thinking. For truth to be reliable it must never change or else it can't possibly be true! Like gravity - if I were able to change it by my own whim how could YOU depend upon it?!

Something to Trust

My next statement will be the jumping off point for many of you. To trust requires faith. God has promised He will never change nor will His word. He says what He means and He means what He says. AND, He says His word is truth; trustworthy, reliable and unchanging. When the search engine of our heart seeks truth, God will be there as a result every time.

The Challenge

Just as gravity can be tested over and over again with the same result, I challenge you to test God - His word - to be true. He was so willing for us to understand Him to be true He came in human form to prove the truth of His love for us. The truth of God, the truth we need and seek, is JESUS. If you seek truth look to Jesus - God's truth in human form. Open the Bible and read how God represents Himself as truth.

Where to Start

If your inner search engine has been coming up empty with no satisfying results, consider what Jesus said of the Bible, God's word is truth (John 17:17), and what the Bible says about Jesus, In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God (John 1:1). There you will find your fulfillment, purpose and truth.

1 John 5:20

And we know that the Son of God has come and has given us an understanding, that we may know Him who is true; and we are in Him who is true, in His Son Jesus Christ. This is the true God and eternal life.

Looking Back to See Ahead

Looking back over the past year 2012, I recall a visit with my 94 year old father in November which caused me to reflect upon, and more deeply appreciate, how I've come to be here.

During that visit with my blind, and nearly deaf father, he said to me, "I have a story to tell you." To which I replied, "What story is that, Dad?" He proceeded to tell me the "History of how I came to be here," - in the assisted living home in which he currently resides. I knew this "history" well, having been a part of each decision and move along the way, in the timeline he conveyed. Sadly, his memory didn't place me in any of the events. However, I recognize this wasn't the point for him. It was about him attempting to put his life in order as he lay trapped in a decaying body.

The following day, after hearing Dad's "story", I happened to discover William Bradford's journal, The History of Plymouth Plantation, while chasing a rabbit trail through cyber space researching family history. You see, my American family roots go deep, back to the Pilgrims and their trip across the big pond.  In his journal, spanning some 40 years from 1606-1646, Bradford relates the experiences of those who came to be called Pilgrims, and their plight and history prior to their landing at Plymouth, Massachusetts, establishing Plymouth Plantation.

As I began reading this journal I realized this was also the story of the history of how I came to be here - my American heritage - going much farther back than a few years. The history I began reading spans much more than mere decades or centuries; it spans generations of faith. And, I've come to appreciate in a deeper and more meaningful way, the fact that I am "here" not just in America, but here in faith, by the grace of God and the persistent and tenacious faith of my forefathers. I've discovered a deep gratitude for those who have gone before me, and to the Lord; for surely there were those who, out of the conviction of faith, prayed for the generations who would follow, not only in their family line, but in faith. A humbling revelation and one that encourages me to do the same.

My first reaction to reading such a document was awe and wonder. The strength and conviction of faith which drove these pilgrims through the most trying and difficult of times, withstanding incomprehensible persecution, not only from their own countrymen, but at the hands of others in a near-by nation, when they fled their country for safety, is incredibly amazing. They were imprisoned, killed, burned, among other horrendous acts of inhumanity, all because of their faith in Christ - sadly, nothing new to Christians over the centuries.

Now, I must say, I find many things abhorrent about the Internet, but I am grateful documents such as this are forever "preserved" to be found and read. This is truth. This is history unedited. America is a nation founded on faith regardless of how, as a people, we may try to dodge the subject.

However, America has become a nation prone to rewriting history, leaving out the memory of our founding father's struggle to consecrate a nation founded on faith and freedom in Christ. Documents such as William Bradford's journal reveal the deep conviction of faith held by these pilgrims and founders of our nation. In forgetting, we may find ourselves reliving the very history we've attempted to eliminate.

There is a tide in the nation of America which has turned from God, becoming reliant upon her own strength; a prideful position teetering on a very fine point poised for peril. Within her own "walls", to be "Christian" is becoming, not only a true minority, but derogatory in the eyes of most. We are destroying our own foundation. And without foundation nothing will stand the test of time.

I'm most thankful my foundation and confidence lies not solely on being American but rests upon the cornerstone of Christ; a heritage passed down from generation to generation - more responsibly at times than others - yet remaining none-the-less. I am of the family of God, the nation of the redeemed, from the land of the "free indeed", passing through this world to the eternal home no man has built, but prepared for me by my Creator God. How I came to be here was by His hand, with one purpose, and that is to share with others the heritage of Christ that is available to all who believe, regardless of nationality. It's that simple.

Would you like to join the family?

I realize this sounds like a ridiculous question after discussing persecution and discrimination of the very family I'm inviting you to join. But let's look past American history and view world history. The family of God has persisted where nations have fallen - even to the point of extinction. Nations of this world will come to an end, families will cease to exist, yet God preserves His own. He always has, He always will. This is His promise. He has yet to fail. The reward so much greater.

So, you see, I am grateful for my Dad's "story". It became the catalyst of reflection for my own life. And even though I may be erased from portions of my father's memory at times, I realize I'm never missing from my Heavenly Father's thoughts (that's His promise). My story is a testimony of the history of His work passed down through the ages of time - not of an earthly family but a heavenly one - bringing me to this point where I can see what my future holds.

Won't you join me in this new family?

Whatever your story may be, it has not escaped God's knowledge. Whether a story of faith or rebellion, He understands. You may have become like the nation of America, trying to eliminate God from your history, but He has used your history to bring you to the place where you can see your future. What is that going to be?

Wouldn't you like to join God's family?

If so, just thank God for giving you the opportunity to join His family, for the fact that He has given you a future and a hope through Christ His Son, who by paying the price for all you've done wrong, erased that from His memory, giving you new life - eternal life.

Welcome to the family!

At this point some of you may be thinking, But what about me? It's hopeless. I have no heritage of faith, no one has gone before me in prayer, no one has even loved me enough to care.

The good news is God has provided exactly for you - Jesus, who died for you has also been the One standing before God in prayer for you. HE is your heritage. HE is your predecessor in prayer, HE is the One who holds faith for you until you are able to receive it for yourself. God loves you THAT much. He loves us all that much. He doesn't want to loose any of us to sin - but it's our choice.

Just as my predecessors may have prayed the distance for me, it had to be my choice to receive what God has done for me; to appreciate those distant prayers, and Jesus death for me, before I was even aware they happened.

So, you see, it's never too late, too hopeless or too distant for you. The moment is now...

The Lord is good; His lovingkindness is everlasting, and His faithfulness to all generations.

Psalm 100:5

Life Goes On

Life goes on, things happen, goals are unmet - we must accept the truth and move on. I've been unable to spend the time at my computer as I had hoped, falling short of my personal goal to finish the trilogy by the first of this month. I'm not stressed, neither am I condemning myself out of sheer personal disappointment. Would I have liked to complete that personal challenge? Yes! Do I know one cannot force a round peg into a square hole? Also, yes! Sadly, body and mind don't always cooperate with one another.

Having had a personal connection with the previous two stories, Benny and Billy, writing them from a place of understanding allowed the stories to very nearly write themselves. Yet, if the third in the trilogy is to be of the same nature as the first two, out of a trial for myself or someone else, then I'm in no hurry. I'm hoping for inspiration without the accompanying trial.

So, here I sit, thoughts and ideas swirling around in my head, occasionally colliding forming a larger concept, yet never going further. According to the information I've received from the writers group I attend, I'm approaching this all wrong, but for now this is how I operate. I don't pretend to be a "writer". I just want to be a vessel out of which stories are written for the edification and enlightenment of others.

To understand why my desire is to edify and enlighten, let me address, for a moment, my genre of writing. If you have read Benny and Billy  then you know where I'm coming from. I enjoy writing spiritual fiction, and of course, where this blog began, devotionals. I believe we live in a time where there is much going on in the unseen world - great spiritual battles being waged all around us. Writing to encourage faith and enlighten understanding about how spiritual events become interwoven into our lives is my goal.

I write from the foundation of human nature and the belief and understanding that there is a whole other dimension of reality out there impacting our lives in profound ways. This spiritual dimension, the dark side, that is, plays upon our natural bent to fall short - to sin, and indulge self above others. For example, in writing Billy,  it was freakishly easy to imagine shedding all restraints and sinking to the depths of human nature at it's worst and most self-indulgent.

Mainly because I know we emerge from the womb self consumed. Those of us who have had the immense pleasure/pain of raising children know we must teach them to be selfless. The nature of the beast (using this term most lightly) desires everything to be "mine".

The good news is there is a winning side in this spiritual battle - the perspective from which I write. Having read and studied the Bible for many years now, and more recently, delved into the book of Revelation, I have a greater appreciation for the battle being waged around us on a daily basis. Clearly there is good and evil in this world. I don't think anyone would dispute that. My writing perspective comes from what's behind the good and evil. The war being waged for our very souls.

So, stay tuned. Lord willing, there will be more to come.

Updates and Observations

     I've been silent for a while because, well, I've just been busy. I'm currently working on the third in the trilogy of Benny, Billy and ??? Stay tuned, I will eventually get it up on my blog but first I am going to attempt to finish it, as a personal challenge, for publication - and I don't mean just on my blog. So, we'll see. Either way it will show up here by the end of November.

     I didn't know I would enjoy writing in the spiritual fiction genre so much until I'd finished Benny. But then again, why am I surprised? That's my very favorite genre to read, with Ted Dekker and Frank Peretti making the top of my favorite author list.  Then when Billy appeared,  friends said, "Well, now there has to be a third to make a trilogy!" I laughed at the thought, but revisited the idea concluding, Why not?!

     In maintaining a summer Bible study discipline, I chose to study the book of Revelation. A        quick web search turned up an excellent downloadable study and I began early in May - I'm still at it! It's a 22 week study I'm in no hurry to finish. What a way to get the creative juices flowing, with it's amazing view of the final battle of good and evil. Spoiler alert - good wins!

     As a long time student of the Bible, it is no surprise to me the presence and power of evil, with it's desire to pull others down to destruction. Evil is a degradation and not an elevation of the human spirit. Our base nature so easily leans that way. And, in Revelation, it clearly reveals where the root of evil lies, with the final battle playing out as Satan throws everything he has into his final attempt to destroy mankind. Unfortunately, to some degree, he will be successful. There will be those who willingly follow his deceptions having fully abandoned any faith in God, believing only what they see with their eyes; those whose only desire is to "survive" in this world. Yet, in the end, they will fatefully find there is more to life than just the physical. But, trust me folks, it will get ugly! Unimaginable and unthinkable things are going to happen in that time, and thus reading Revelation makes for good inspiration.

     To me, the most fascinating part of Revelation is John, the author, writing in the year 96 A.D. - making observations of things shown to him in the distant future! Things like the technology we daily take for granted, and possibly things we've yet to see ourselves. Think about it, how would you describe something you've never seen before, and have no clue what it is? That makes Revelation totally science "non-fiction" to John! Just imagine going back in time to the early 1800's, before they even knew what a light bulb was, and attempting to describe all the scientific and technological advancements we currently have. John had the even greater challenge because he didn't know what he was describing. What Satan will have at his disposal in this great final battle is mind-boggling!

     If I were a scientifically-minded intellectual, Oh, the things I could write! But, alas, I'm not, so I write out of what I do know. And I know, of all the resources Satan has at his disposal, his greatest ploy is deception, the blinding of the eyes to the truth. He will use whatever it takes to achieve that goal.

     God does not want anyone to fall prey to Satan's deceptions. He's given us the truth. We either choose to believe it or not. When we willingly turn our backs on that truth, He will only give us so much time to change our minds. Where do you stand today?

God is patient...not wanting any to perish but for all to change their mind and turn to Him.

2 Peter 3:9