Positive Adaptation

(About the Allegory)
The chronology presented here in the stories related to The Awakening are allegory in the finest sense. As author, I get to understand and enjoy them on levels not likely translatable to my readers. The experiences you read about in the allegory are real to me in another realm--absolutely real. I must tell you also that they correlate directly to events unfolding in my life from day to day.

Perhaps it's just the interplay between mind and spirit. That's a tidy way of putting it. Of this I'm sure: it has taken me years to get to this point, both in the allegory and in the freedom to report what I see in it. I write from no outline. I don't pre-think and plan what I'm going to bring next. I just write, but I write with a confidence and faith that if I enter into the dream of the allegory, I will come out with substance.

I'm experiencing something marvelous and incredible from all this. I'm seeing manifestation in my waking life, my daily existance, of the discoveries I experience in the allegory.

Here's part of my notes from pondering all this, written from my private journal: January 30th "Positive Adaptation considers everything that worry dwells on, but does not dwell in the cycle of worry. Instead, positive adaptation dwells in the cycle of possibility. It is free from the chains of doubt that worry is bound by. Holding Joy in my heart and mind, swinging the imaginary sword of joy in the midst of confrontation helps me identify the spirits of doubt, worry, disillusionment and so on and drive them off. I meet the moment instead with faith that I will find the way through the problem."

The results in my life, of this kind of pondering coupled with the imagery of the allegory, are nothing less than dynamic.

Not Alone

(Continued from The Telling)

I walked all that day swinging the sword in the air and at times resting. To my amazement, my arms did not grow weary, but gained in strength as I continued north in this manner. I got to where I could make a full swing above my head and bring the sword’s tip down gently and touch the center of a select pebble lying on the ground. Joy flowed through my body in pulses and filled me up.

By nightfall I was nothing less than exuberant I was so filled with Joy in this manner. As darkness settled over the land and twilight receded in the west, stars by the millions appeared in the moonless sky. So filled with Divine Happiness was I that sleep seemed impossible. The shine from the sword lit my way. I could see with ease where to walk and was in no danger of tripping or falling over the edge. I continued sweeping the air around me with the sword. I was still on the edge of the abyss which below took the appearance of a dark lake. The fog that prevented me from seeing its great depth looked like a solid surface of water in the night view.

At the point where I stood, the abyss curved around toward the northeast like a great river that could not be crossed. I noticed at this point other faintly glowing hues of light the color of which was not unlike that of the sword I carried. These many lights sparsely distributed along the rim were glittering so that at first I thought they were stars twinkling. But as true night settled in I saw that they were swinging for closer at hand I could see the longer finger of blades being swung in the same fashion as I swung my sword in the air.

O Lord, I thought. Thank you! I see that I am not at all alone for there are many like me who have made their way to the edge of dawn. I stood in silent awe at this view counting numbers that did not matter until they were so faint in the distance both up and down the edge of the chasm that they disappeared into minute nothingness.

The peace this site brought to my heart cannot be imagined, nor can I describe it. I knew these were the blades of many believers who believed as I, who had come out of the world to find God.

###

The Telling

(Continued from Two Paths)

I held onto the sword as I strode north. I clasped it firmly in my hand, transferring it as before but less often. Either I was getting stronger or the sword was becoming lighter. Regardless, it was easier to carry so I practiced swinging it while I walked. I resolved never again to lose it to anyone.

"I will keep this sword, Lord. This gift from you is great and mighty, the protector of my faith, and I will not ever let go of it again. Lord I pray that I can keep it and hold onto it, no matter the strength or guile of those I meet."

I had no sooner said this when a bright light appeared in the sky over the chasm. I stopped and looked. The light came close and then an angel appeared and lit gently in front of me. I lowered my head in respect but did not fall to my knees. I waited for him to speak.

"You are learning, son of man. I am sent to both encourage and warn you. You will face difficulty ahead, but you must stay strong and have courage. God will make the way for you. Keep your sword in front of you and trust Him."

“How is it that the Sword was returned to me? This is the same sword I held earlier. What happened to the men who took it from me?”

"“They received their wages. Men of corruption cannot contain the joy given you. They could neither hold it nor stand it. Neither can the angels that are fallen. They cannot touch joy. They will use men to try to steal it from you. Wield it and they will flee, for joy cuts right through them, as you've seen.”

What am I to do?"

Greet all difficulty with joy. Guard your tongue. God is with you.”

The sword began to vibrate again as it had before. I looked at it. The gems embedded in the handle were pulsating unbelievably beautiful light in many colors. The sword felt warm again to my touch. A tingling flowed up my arm from it and penetrated all my body. Peace flooded over me and became me. "Thank you," I said. I felt such happiness in that moment that I cannot properly describe it. I felt more alive than I had ever felt and more certain that I could meet any foe in victory.

"Be strong in faith and have courage. Trust God and wield your joy as a weapon. Be joyful in all you do. Show joy in front of all you meet. In this way you have joined the fight and are helping us on the other side. When you are weak, when you sin, your light in the sword will grow dim and that is dangerous, as it gives them strength. In losing joy you will lose faith. Be strong in your faith and have courage. Do not sin, but walk away from sin. Bear love in your heart for others but have a discerning eye. You already have these things so use your joy as a weapon. It will protect your faith and your faith will increase. Soon you will be joined by another and many more after that. No one comes to you by accident, nor do you meet anyone by coincidence. Remain strong in your faith, wield the joy and the season of difficulty will soon pass. You will know everything to do. The victory has already been won. The fight that continues even now is to expel that which is against God. Be strong in your faith. Joy will protect it. There is no one you should fear."

As he said that, he rose from the soil so that I looked up to follow, then he turned and flew back across the abyss, disappearing as before into a point of light.

# # #

Two Paths

(Continued from My Weapon of Choice)

I played with the sword in mock combat for awhile feeling its energy and marveling over its beauty. I knew I had something powerful, but I hardly knew how to use it. After awhile I grew somewhat bored however with play and decided to walk further north.. I had no scabbard for the sword so I had to carry it by the handle, blade down, and it was just heavy enough that I had to transfer it from one hand to the other periodically as I walked.

Before long I came to a dip in the terrain that slopped downward away from the rim of the abyss. I reasoned it must be the upper reaches of a gully. Various bushes and brush were around this slight basin and I saw that a path, faintly warn, let down along one side. I hadn’t been following any kind of trail since I neared the edge of the abyss, so this was peculiar in a way. I figured it must be a path that had led some few unknown to me from the world to this same place where I had come.

With the Sword of Joy in my hand, I thought I must have purpose for having been honored in the gift of it. I thought of no better reason to have it then to take it back into the world to use on behalf of those close to me and for whom I had prayed earlier. I knew they couldn’t get where I was, at least that many of them couldn’t comprehend what I knew as reality, so I thought the reason for my having received it must be for help in protecting the faith of others.

I started down the path with that kind of optimism. It wasn’t long before I entered sparse timber. The trail at that point had more definition which meant to me that it had been frequented more often by human beings, as I was nearing the world of man once again. So I thought little of it and just kind of accepted the phenomenon as natural. About then, I saw two men approaching from below. They had seen me and were coming up to meet me. They waved and I waved back.

“Hello there,” the man in front called out.”

I acknowledged him. They were smiling and of course, so was I. I was eager to show my sword and to talk about what I had seen on the rim. When they came up to me, the man who had called out stood directly in front of me and appeared greatly interested in the sword. The other man, taller, stood off to the side on my right. He too seemed very friendly and I saw them look at each other as if they were communicating. I just figured they were happy to see me and were eager to learn about where I had been and what the sword meant.

As I explained to them how the sword had been given to me by the angel and what I had seen, the man in front of me asked if he could hold it. I saw no reason why not, so I let him take it by the handle. Just at that point, the other man hit me on the side of the head and I staggered from the blow. Then the man in front of me, holding the sword in his left hand, laid a fist into my gut knocking the wind out of me. I could not catch my breath and I fell to me knees. Then the other man hit me again on the back of the neck and I fell unconscious on the trail.

Sometime later I awoke to pain in my neck and ribs. I gasped for air at first, but then caught enough to sit up. I put my hand on the side of my head where the first blow had levied and looked around. I did not see the men anywhere. They were gone and they had taken the sword.

“No!” I cried out. “No. Lord, how can this be?” I couldn’t imagine that anyone would want to steal that from me, but they obviously had. I was lucky to be alive. “Oh, Lord, I’m so sorry. I have lost it already.” I got to my feet to gain my bearings. At first I was quite distraught. I tried to bring on the attitude of joy, but frankly, I could not. They had taken the most dear thing to me. I felt both guilt and remorse over its loss.

“Lord, you trusted me with it.” I stumbled around not knowing which way to go. My head hurt, my gut was sore and my neck was taught with strain. I massaged my neck with my right hand and decided to walk back toward the rim. Why would I have ever wanted to go back into the world? I wondered. I could see and understand that the knowledge I had gained was not explainable to people in the world, that it could not be understood by most. “But God, I only wanted to help in the fight,” I moaned. No one was there to hear my complaint.

Eventually, I worked my way back up the draw to the edge of the rim. I looked across the abyss to see if I could see anything, but I could not. It was just a huge abyss with green on the other side and I was just a man standing on the edge of it, perplexed and confused.

I sat down in a lotus position (because I saw nothing on which to sit) and put my hands to my eyes. I felt like crying, but could not. I felt heavy guilt and regret. I felt despair. Then I heard the mocking. It was a quiet kind of laughter coming from somewhere near. I opened my eyes, cocked my head; but I could not see anyone. Then I realized that it must be coming from dark spirits, for it certainly taunted me. It wanted to feed the heaviness in my soul with more heaviness.

I stood up at once. “Well, I can’t see you; but I know who you are,” I cried loudly. “Your names are Guilt, Failure, and Despair and you are in the company of Regret. Yes, I am just a man but I say you have no authority over me. You cannot dissuade me from the truth. You cannot take my faith from me. You cannot!” I raised my fist. “If I could see you, I’d....”

Then they appeared. Three dark angels stood in front of me and a fourth back a little behind them. I stood my ground. They were not talking, just looking at me. They were ugly, quite frankly, and I could smell them as unclean. All four were no larger than I was. They had no light about them but they were winged. All four had scares from battle and faces of inner torment. They were ungodly. Had I been on less treacherous ground, I might have been repulsed by their appearance, but I knew I had to be strong.

“By authority of the One Whose Victory was written from before the beginning of time,” I command you to leave.

They looked at each other. The one nearest me, looked back at me and a stinking smile crossed his lips. They did not move. “I am not yours and I never will be. Depart.” As difficult as it was I knew I had to turn away from them, so I did. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up in anticipation of preeminent attack.

Nonetheless, I started to walk away with my head held high when my foot kicked a stone. I looked down for my footing and there saw the sword lying on the ground. Realizing it was the same sword I had lost, and instantly being aware that I could lose it again, I grabbed it off the ground a swung it around to greet my foes all in one instant. And lucky I did for they were coming at me as one. My sword cut right through two of them, beheading one and severing the arm of another. The other two seeing their comrade fall, stopped. The severed head, however this was possible I don’t know, rolled on the ground, gaining momentum until it went over the edge of the abyss.

At that point the three others who had taunted me, fled into the draw from which I had come.

I stood dazed. The forearm of the second attacker lay bleeding on the soil at my feet. I looked at the blade of the Sword of Joy, yet nothing was on it. No blood, nothing. But the fine blade glittered and shown brightly in the morning sun.

Then I realized that there had been no sunlight at all in the draw along the trail I had taken to go back into the world. It had been daylight, but no direct sun. I lowered the sword letting its tip touch the soil for it was heavy to hold up and I was weary from all that had transpired.

“How is this? How can all this be?” I asked. But no one was there to answer. My mind raced over everything. I saw way back into the long trek I over which I had persevered to get to the rim. And I realized that I could not go back into the world again, not in the way a man does. If I were going to help anyone, I had first to learn how to protect this treasure I had been given. If it was to protect my faith, what would protect it?

The first men I had encountered had tried to steal it from me and had I not been somehow blessed, they would have succeeded. “Oh God,” I cried out, lowering my head. I closed my eyes to pray, “Oh Father, help me understand. You are over there and I am here. You have given this to me and the world wants to steal it form me. I don’t know how to protect myself. Teach me. I don’t know how to wield this sword. Teach me. I don’t even know when I should...teach me. Lord God, I ask you, please...teach me.”

When I opened my eyes, I saw there at my feet the faint outline of a pathway moving north along the rim. I took it. I followed as best I could the faint markings in the dusty soil along the edge of the abyss, transferring the sword periodically from hand to hand. Joy had returned into my breast. The pains went away. My stride increased in length. Sureness and courage filled my being. This time I was on the right track and I knew it.

# # #

A Weapon of Choice

(Continued from Lines of Authority)

With my hands on the handle and my forehead against the jewels on the cross-guard, I prayed thusly. I remained on my knees for some time, silent, pondering the things I had seen and knew to be true. The wind that had come up earlier had stopped and all was still about me. Now and then I broke the quiet air with gentle words of prayer, expressing my joy over the insights I had been given.

As I leaned into the sword, my forehead lay against the jewels set into its handle. My arms rested beneath the grip of my hands. An energy came from the sword. I felt a pulse, very gently at first, penetrating my skull, moving through my hands down the length of my arms and back up into my shoulders. The sensation was pleasant and soft, like the rhythm of a brook, encouraging my thoughts.

A peace settled over me. I could think of nothing but joy. I felt joy from the experiences, joy from the insights and joy from the anticipation of what might come. Joy was everywhere in me. The sword increased in vibration until I heard it humming in my ears. Still I expressed joy, keeping my eyes closed.

Then another kind of energy came into my awareness and it was not good. Something swarmed about my head, like wasps, only larger. I opened my eyes to see what it was but saw nothing there; yet I could feel the disturbance in the air, separate from the sword. The sword became more vibrant yet. I looked at the jewels inlaid and saw them pulsating light from within, Brilliant blues, reds and purples sparkled before me, pulsating hues and rich transparencies of gemstone. They glowed almost as if they were living. “What is this?” I asked. Immediately the answer came: The joys of saints and martyrs.

“Joys?” I asked.

Gems of the saints and martyrs.”

“Yes,” I whispered, then I yelled my new discovery, “Yes!” I rose to my feet quickly to their surprise. I knew the names of the dark spirits swarming: Dissuader, Despair, Doubter and Venom. They flew about me taunting and daring, trying to get my attention away from God.

Now I could see them. I had the Sword of Joy in my hands. I swung it through the air all about, yelling testimony. “God is Glorious beyond compare! Sovereign and Great! Flee from me, you spirits of darkness, or go into the pit!”

They fled. That which had come to mock and destroy the tenderness of my faith fled like scared rabbits from the wielding of my sword. I saw their forms fly off and disappear.

Once again, peace settled over me. I understood. The sword was for the protection of faith, my weapon to wield in the coming fight.

Lines of Authority

Turning prayer comes when one stands in the place firmly where God planted his feet. I stand on the edge of the Great Abyss. I meet another soul there and talk with him. We both want to cross over and wonder how, if ever it will be possible. Something in my breast holds firm that it is, but maybe not now. He probably sees it the same way.

Rather than walking together, we separate for a time. I walk north in the direction of the two others I had seen earlier. I am walking perhaps 20 or 30 feet back from the rim, looking occasionally across the wide gap at the green verdure on the other side. I don’t see tropical jungles or heavy green forests; I simply see that there is lushness in the green growth of life over there, whereas I have just come out of a desert.

I am healthy and strong, not depressed or otherwise influenced by much except that I am aware of the burdens of many people I love. My empathy goes out to them. It’s like I can’t communicate what I see. None of those whose burdens I carry believe the chasm can be breached. They seem lost in the world I’ve left behind and unable to see the truth I look at in the distance. Is it the promised land? Then what faith must I have to bring back to them?

As I walk, my eyes are caught by the sparkling of light in the atmosphere across the way. I look to identify the source of disturbance. The sky opens and closes in minute separations of light. I see beings on the other side of the chasm, where the light breaks the scene open. The beings are fighting. It is a battle that I see only in vignettes, in glimpses through rips in the air.

I stop. I am awestruck. I watch intently, seeing only momentarily through openings into another realm that close rapidly. Some of those being fought are driven to the edge of the abyss into which some of fall. Their living bodies flail in the air as they disappear out of sight into the dark fog below. Is this the battle of Good and Evil? Surely it is God’s army that is winning. What am I seeing?

Suddenly a wind comes up from the direction of these scenes. A dark angel flies by, ignoring my presence, followed shortly by another of the same. They are fleeing and their flight is back into the world from which I’ve come. Then a being of great glory comes behind them, carrying a sword. He sees me and lands gently with ease a short distance from me.

“Lord, God!” I exclaim. I fall to my knees but I keep my eyes on his magnificent brightness.

“I am not God. It is God who commands me, mortal man. It is the Lord of Hosts whom you worship. Do not worship me and do not be afraid.”

I was shivering with excitement and had no words of reply.

“You are allowed to see what you see. And you see it with discerning eyes.” He handed me his sword. I took it. It shown brightly in the reflection of his light and was warm to my touch. Then he flew up and went back across the abyss disappearing into a point of light. And I saw no more that day. The scene was back as it had been.

The sword however was real and in my hand. It had weight. It was sharp, very sharp on both sides of its blade. I looked at it a long while. Jewels adorned its handle with inlaid gold and silver. It was both pretty and lethal, I knew though I saw no blood on its blade.

I stuck its point in the soil so that it stood straight up with its handle on top. The guard of its handle met my hands and the height of my forehead as I leaned against it praying on my knees. “O Glorious Father in Heaven, O Lord Jesus who returns and even now leads this fight, show me what to do. Speak in my heart, Lord. Speak in my heart so that I can carry out my part in this great fight. If I’m not allowed over, then make me strong here. Make me strong in faith and fill me with You Divine Courage. I thank You and praise You for this Sword of Truth. Teach me how to wield it. Let me join the fight not relying on myself, but on You. O Lord, I pray by your Holy Name.”

# # #

Salt of the Earth

Fiction:

Clay Walker was a decent man, dependable and without pretention. He was born and raised in hard times crossing the prairie as a youngster with his parents in the late 1880's. They made it to Montana and settled on the edge of the plains in Billings where he grew up. At the age of eighteen, toughened by lean years and hard work, he left home for Missoula.

"Want to work the timber," he said. "I like trees, Ma. I want to go work the timber." She was a woman of fiber and told him he'd be alright. "You'll go far, Clay. You just look up, you here me? You trust God and he'll bless you."

Clay worked the timber out of the little town of Border near Missoula where he learned how to dance on logs. But the money wasn't good there and the men were a bit raw for Clay's liking so he moved on to Thompson Falls where he became a River Pig, one of a rare set of men who rode cut logs to mills down river. River Pigs kept the logs moving, pried the jambs loose or blew them apart if they couldn't pry them. It was a dangerous game; but Clay figured it was "no worse than 'tother."

In the spring of 1907, he and four others worked their way down to Sandpoint on logs and boat through the rapids of Cabinet Gorge into the windy waters of Pend d'Oreille Lake where they boomed the logs to wait for a tug. A few days later they brought them to bay at the Humbird Mill. Hanging around there for a few months he was promoted to Bay Captain. by Mr. John Humbird, owner of one of the most prosperous mills "west side of Minnesota." It was his first job of recognition and importance and he accepted with sincerity.

Humbird said Clay had "leadership quality," which he thought meant he'd be good at leading men in war. So he took his job with serious intent and managed the men beneath him with gentle, but firm command. He'd seen a general of the U.S. Calvary once and remembered how that man was. That's how Clay Walker managed the rough and strong men in his charge: just as his mother had told him was the way to oversee men, "in simple truth and a straight forward manner."

Clay Walker wasn't a fighter, but he wasn't one to cower down either. He was a man of truth and the truth was that if a man in his charge was out to hurt someone that man was out of a job. He was quick in judgement and discerned with a sharp eye. The men who worked for him respected him for that very reason and those who stayed with him, found him loyal and true.