Anonymous Angel
11-13-2008, 03:46 AM
I've also written a full book--U.S. Copyright TXu 1-574-378, called Beyond Paradise. You can find the link on my profile...I would love your opinions! These are a few excerpts.
Seven The Temptation
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The room was quiet…the desert was quiet. Rebecca had read Jesus’ Temptation scene before she fell asleep, and she slipped into this dream as she did all the others, softly. Softly, and then standing on the sand, sunlight blinding. She put her hand up to her eyes and looked out over the horizon. Hot. It was hot. And then she felt it, a quiet voice in her ear, a bit raspy.
What are you doing here. You shouldn’t be here.
It startled her, and she looked around. No one to be seen. Then she felt a softness, like a breath of air. Like a soft eel at her cheek, and it seemed to smell of smoke. She turned her head to get away from it.
I said, what are you doing here. You shouldn’t be here.
She stood very still and answered, very afraid.
“I don’t know. I’m just here. This is a dream, isn’t it? I usually meet Jesus in my dreams. Not always. But some of the time.”
He’s here. But you shouldn’t be here. Curiosity k-I-l-l-e-d the cat. Or didn’t you know that?
This wasn’t right. This wasn’t a dream she thought she was going to like. Where was Jesus…maybe he would show up soon. She instinctually walked away, looking around.
He isn’t here. I’ll take you to him, though. Soft laugh. I won’t hurt you. It is a dream, after all.
The scene changed, right in front of her. To another part of the desert. And it was dark. And she could hear a voice. And the eel caressed her cheek again, and she stiffened, listening.
And there I am, in all my glory. You do like glory, don’t you?
She felt it slide away, toward the voices…and she walked forward, seeing him clearer as she approached. She stopped a bit away. He looked thin, haggard. Tired. And she seemed to see a cloud near him, and a bit of cloud joined that cloud. She could hear it. Same voice, but louder. Almost many voices. But one voice.
If thou art the Son of God, command that these stones become loaves of bread.
It was quiet for a moment. Then she heard his answer.
“It is written, Not by bread alone does man live, but by every word that comes forth from the mouth of God.”
The cloud seemed to burst outward in irritation, then coalesced back into itself. It seemed to shiver, then spiral out and around him. The scene changed again, and Rebecca watched it slide around her. As if a room was moving slowly, in a counter-clockwise direction. Slowly, slowly. And they were on top of a building. A temple. She could see him clearly now…it was broad daylight and he didn’t look happy. But he stood strong. He stood strong, despite his tired appearance. She wondered when he’d slept last. And she watched the cloud coalesce again, this time to his right…into a shape of a man. And it stood close. Too, close, she thought. They were close to the edge of the roof, and she didn’t like it. It made her nervous. The male image seemed to nudge him, and Jesus just stood there and took it. That voice. That voice again. She hated that voice.
If thou art the Son of God, throw thyself down; for it is written, “He will give his angels charge concerning thee; and upon their hands they shall bear thee up, lest thou dash thy foot against a stone.”
The being nudged him again, and Jesus shrugged it off and stepped back, looking clearly at it. Unafraid.
“It is written further, Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God.”
The being seemed to rise and expand, taller, taller. Jesus turned and walked away, toward Rebecca, actually, and she stepped back. He didn’t seem to see her, though. The cloud collapsed into an angry face behind him, and then into itself onto the ground, sliding toward him like a snake. It wrapped around his ankles and slid up, again spiraling around him, closer this time. He looked up, a bit angry, at the sky. Almost searching. Then back out. The environment was changing again, the counter-clockwise movement fading the temple and merging into a landscape. A mountain. The view spanned out in all directions, the air crisp, clean. A bit cold, actually. And Jesus looked down and just shook his head. Sighed. Then turned to face the view before him. Rebecca looked, as well. Cities, beautiful, large and small radiated out from the mountain. It was strange…some of them looked like the villages and places of Jesus’ own time, and others were modern, large cities with skyscrapers rising into the sky. Rebecca wondered what he was seeing. Did he see the modern? Or did he only see the view in terms of his own historical period? The cloud pulled together, suspended over the view, and slowly solidified into an Angel. Larger, larger it became, dark, and it’s black form shimmering in its entirety. Beautiful, it was beautiful. The face was a face of Beauty. Probably one of the most beautiful she had ever seen. And this Angel, this Dark Angel filled the sky. The wings flared out gracefully, stretching quietly and setting around him. A slow smile, and he looked Jesus straight in the eye. The cities sparkled behind him, a glow emerged from the horizon, warm, like gold. It was breathtaking. Rebecca looked at the Angel. The glow didn’t touch him. He just shimmered. Shimmered. The smile disappeared into an intimidating calm, and he spoke, the voice deep, resonant, grand.
All these things I will give thee, if thou wilt fall down and worship me.
In his hand a scepter appeared, wrought gold winding up a graceful swanlike linearity. It held a glowing orb, and in it Rebecca could see the cities, the sparkle, the glow…a living replica of the same view that lay before them. A wing of the Angel adjusted softly, disturbing the light, and the scepter floated forward and hung in the air before Jesus. The Angel’s eyes did not waver. Jesus looked at it quietly. Then said it. Quietly. A bit darkly.
“Begone, Satan.”
Slowly the orb lowered, and she knew it was Jesus. He wasn’t even looking at it. He was looking straight at the Angel. And the orb started to change. The cities and villages melted into a pool of white light, swirling until it filled the orb. It sparkled, softly. Moving softly. Growing brighter and brighter. The Angel’s face grew dark with rage.
“The Lord thy god shalt thou worship and him only shalt thou serve.”
The orb separated from its slender golden base, and fell dully to the ground. The Angel’s eyes grew dark, and hiss emerged from his being. He looked at Jesus, then looked at Rebecca, and lunged at her. A flash of light, and it seemed a net, a bright, sparkling net flew in a straight flash at the livid Angel and captured it, pulling it directly into the orb. Rebecca watched its dark, shimmering form writhe, collapse, then explode. For a moment it hung, then rose, returning to its previous state, soft, glowing. It started to rotate. Clockwise. And energy separated to flow out in soft, winglike pieces, gracefully circling the orb’s diameter. The light expanded, as if breathing around the orb, and floated until it hung suspended over Jesus’ head…and the wings descended, wafting slowly down around Jesus. From where she stood, Rebecca could feel his warmth, and in her mind she thought she could hear a voice, a whisper.
The Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit, Rebecca.
The light, the winged light, floated down over his body, and he looked up, his eyes closing. The seemed to close in around him, enclosing him, holding him. The warmth was so strong…it seemed to radiate out from him….and the scene didn’t change, it just rotated. The entire landscape started to move, and Rebecca felt as if she could feel the movement of the Earth. The soft rotation of the Earth. And the Earth was warmth. And the warmth radiated out forever, enveloping the cities, the mountain, the sky, the Universe itself. And they moved, in concert. And Rebecca herself felt it was love. It was love. It stretched into forever. And the orb swelled quietly, spinning slowly, the warmth subsiding into a soft pulse. The Earth, the sky, everything around them seemed to hear its silent voice, subsiding as well. The warmth remained, a softness in the air. Jesus looked out over the landscape, and for a moment, she felt as if they were part of everything. He was feeling everything…and he whispered, and it seemed a voice in everything.
“I love you, God.” Just silence. The pulse of silence, the pulse of love, the sound, the heartbeat of sound, the voice of God, holding, holding. It held. Jesus opened his eyes. They were held. And he spoke. To her.
“I’m glad you were here.”
They were held. And she couldn’t remember, when she left that dream. But when she woke up, she wrote it down. She wrote it down. They were held. By God.
Seven The Temptation
__________________________________________________ ______________
The room was quiet…the desert was quiet. Rebecca had read Jesus’ Temptation scene before she fell asleep, and she slipped into this dream as she did all the others, softly. Softly, and then standing on the sand, sunlight blinding. She put her hand up to her eyes and looked out over the horizon. Hot. It was hot. And then she felt it, a quiet voice in her ear, a bit raspy.
What are you doing here. You shouldn’t be here.
It startled her, and she looked around. No one to be seen. Then she felt a softness, like a breath of air. Like a soft eel at her cheek, and it seemed to smell of smoke. She turned her head to get away from it.
I said, what are you doing here. You shouldn’t be here.
She stood very still and answered, very afraid.
“I don’t know. I’m just here. This is a dream, isn’t it? I usually meet Jesus in my dreams. Not always. But some of the time.”
He’s here. But you shouldn’t be here. Curiosity k-I-l-l-e-d the cat. Or didn’t you know that?
This wasn’t right. This wasn’t a dream she thought she was going to like. Where was Jesus…maybe he would show up soon. She instinctually walked away, looking around.
He isn’t here. I’ll take you to him, though. Soft laugh. I won’t hurt you. It is a dream, after all.
The scene changed, right in front of her. To another part of the desert. And it was dark. And she could hear a voice. And the eel caressed her cheek again, and she stiffened, listening.
And there I am, in all my glory. You do like glory, don’t you?
She felt it slide away, toward the voices…and she walked forward, seeing him clearer as she approached. She stopped a bit away. He looked thin, haggard. Tired. And she seemed to see a cloud near him, and a bit of cloud joined that cloud. She could hear it. Same voice, but louder. Almost many voices. But one voice.
If thou art the Son of God, command that these stones become loaves of bread.
It was quiet for a moment. Then she heard his answer.
“It is written, Not by bread alone does man live, but by every word that comes forth from the mouth of God.”
The cloud seemed to burst outward in irritation, then coalesced back into itself. It seemed to shiver, then spiral out and around him. The scene changed again, and Rebecca watched it slide around her. As if a room was moving slowly, in a counter-clockwise direction. Slowly, slowly. And they were on top of a building. A temple. She could see him clearly now…it was broad daylight and he didn’t look happy. But he stood strong. He stood strong, despite his tired appearance. She wondered when he’d slept last. And she watched the cloud coalesce again, this time to his right…into a shape of a man. And it stood close. Too, close, she thought. They were close to the edge of the roof, and she didn’t like it. It made her nervous. The male image seemed to nudge him, and Jesus just stood there and took it. That voice. That voice again. She hated that voice.
If thou art the Son of God, throw thyself down; for it is written, “He will give his angels charge concerning thee; and upon their hands they shall bear thee up, lest thou dash thy foot against a stone.”
The being nudged him again, and Jesus shrugged it off and stepped back, looking clearly at it. Unafraid.
“It is written further, Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God.”
The being seemed to rise and expand, taller, taller. Jesus turned and walked away, toward Rebecca, actually, and she stepped back. He didn’t seem to see her, though. The cloud collapsed into an angry face behind him, and then into itself onto the ground, sliding toward him like a snake. It wrapped around his ankles and slid up, again spiraling around him, closer this time. He looked up, a bit angry, at the sky. Almost searching. Then back out. The environment was changing again, the counter-clockwise movement fading the temple and merging into a landscape. A mountain. The view spanned out in all directions, the air crisp, clean. A bit cold, actually. And Jesus looked down and just shook his head. Sighed. Then turned to face the view before him. Rebecca looked, as well. Cities, beautiful, large and small radiated out from the mountain. It was strange…some of them looked like the villages and places of Jesus’ own time, and others were modern, large cities with skyscrapers rising into the sky. Rebecca wondered what he was seeing. Did he see the modern? Or did he only see the view in terms of his own historical period? The cloud pulled together, suspended over the view, and slowly solidified into an Angel. Larger, larger it became, dark, and it’s black form shimmering in its entirety. Beautiful, it was beautiful. The face was a face of Beauty. Probably one of the most beautiful she had ever seen. And this Angel, this Dark Angel filled the sky. The wings flared out gracefully, stretching quietly and setting around him. A slow smile, and he looked Jesus straight in the eye. The cities sparkled behind him, a glow emerged from the horizon, warm, like gold. It was breathtaking. Rebecca looked at the Angel. The glow didn’t touch him. He just shimmered. Shimmered. The smile disappeared into an intimidating calm, and he spoke, the voice deep, resonant, grand.
All these things I will give thee, if thou wilt fall down and worship me.
In his hand a scepter appeared, wrought gold winding up a graceful swanlike linearity. It held a glowing orb, and in it Rebecca could see the cities, the sparkle, the glow…a living replica of the same view that lay before them. A wing of the Angel adjusted softly, disturbing the light, and the scepter floated forward and hung in the air before Jesus. The Angel’s eyes did not waver. Jesus looked at it quietly. Then said it. Quietly. A bit darkly.
“Begone, Satan.”
Slowly the orb lowered, and she knew it was Jesus. He wasn’t even looking at it. He was looking straight at the Angel. And the orb started to change. The cities and villages melted into a pool of white light, swirling until it filled the orb. It sparkled, softly. Moving softly. Growing brighter and brighter. The Angel’s face grew dark with rage.
“The Lord thy god shalt thou worship and him only shalt thou serve.”
The orb separated from its slender golden base, and fell dully to the ground. The Angel’s eyes grew dark, and hiss emerged from his being. He looked at Jesus, then looked at Rebecca, and lunged at her. A flash of light, and it seemed a net, a bright, sparkling net flew in a straight flash at the livid Angel and captured it, pulling it directly into the orb. Rebecca watched its dark, shimmering form writhe, collapse, then explode. For a moment it hung, then rose, returning to its previous state, soft, glowing. It started to rotate. Clockwise. And energy separated to flow out in soft, winglike pieces, gracefully circling the orb’s diameter. The light expanded, as if breathing around the orb, and floated until it hung suspended over Jesus’ head…and the wings descended, wafting slowly down around Jesus. From where she stood, Rebecca could feel his warmth, and in her mind she thought she could hear a voice, a whisper.
The Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit, Rebecca.
The light, the winged light, floated down over his body, and he looked up, his eyes closing. The seemed to close in around him, enclosing him, holding him. The warmth was so strong…it seemed to radiate out from him….and the scene didn’t change, it just rotated. The entire landscape started to move, and Rebecca felt as if she could feel the movement of the Earth. The soft rotation of the Earth. And the Earth was warmth. And the warmth radiated out forever, enveloping the cities, the mountain, the sky, the Universe itself. And they moved, in concert. And Rebecca herself felt it was love. It was love. It stretched into forever. And the orb swelled quietly, spinning slowly, the warmth subsiding into a soft pulse. The Earth, the sky, everything around them seemed to hear its silent voice, subsiding as well. The warmth remained, a softness in the air. Jesus looked out over the landscape, and for a moment, she felt as if they were part of everything. He was feeling everything…and he whispered, and it seemed a voice in everything.
“I love you, God.” Just silence. The pulse of silence, the pulse of love, the sound, the heartbeat of sound, the voice of God, holding, holding. It held. Jesus opened his eyes. They were held. And he spoke. To her.
“I’m glad you were here.”
They were held. And she couldn’t remember, when she left that dream. But when she woke up, she wrote it down. She wrote it down. They were held. By God.