Breaking The Silence - A Controlled Black Out (October 14, 2007)

I had just finished reading the scriptures and went to lie down on my rack. Before I could sleep I closed my eyes, raised my hands, and praised the Lord. The praises were sweet until I felt hands grip my wrists and jerk me up like the first pull of a tug-of-war. Before I could open my eyes to see what was going on I was flying faster than the fastest jet due east. Chicago, New York, The Atlantic, then Europe. Whatever gripped me I never knew but when it dropped me like a skydiver I wished it hadn't. Though I was falling much slower than my flight it was still at a speed deadly when stopped by the ground. This was my expectation any instant. Without knowledge of the source behind this journey or the intentions my death was all I could suspect at the time. I wasn't afraid because the God I was just praising was still the eternal hope for my soul even if my body were to perish. Suddenly my weight took on an anti-gravity lightness like a feather and my feet landed upon the ground. The sun had not yet risen but I could tell by feel I had landed in soil. In the dark I prayed fervently with every why question I could. God was silent! That non-response was the most terrifying part of my perplexing journey. The darkness was creeping into my soul with the noise of loneliness. I was craving my prison home like never before. My brain was receiving lots of input from feeling, smell, hearing, and taste but was in a frantic plea seeking input from my eyes and the spirit. The eyes were fixed shortly by the rising sun but my spirit was like a beam of light shot into the heavens finding not one target only empty space.

I could see I was in a field that was partially farmed. It was currently tilled with no crop or any structures. I would say it was an oval shaped 80 acre parcel encircled by heavy woods. Just over the trees I could see the smoke of fires that were being snuffed out and hear the activity of many peoples. To my left Roman soldiers began sifting out of the forest like sand slipping through fingers then assembling in formation. To my right were a gruff people I suspect as barbarians. None of their weapons appeared conventional though they looked deadly. I was a witness to what looked to become a very serious skirmish. Was I noticed I wondered? I didn't seem to be. Then like a whistle had blown to start a game war happened. Based on the carnage that transpired in close proximity to me it became perfectly clear I was an invisible witness. This was a good thing because I could not hold back my gasps of horror, my tears of anguish, or my screams of contempt. I saw the most horrid things. Wombs ripped open, decapitations, broiled flesh, impaling, mutilations of every kind. Handsome and comely faces contorted with evil intent or grimaced in suffering. Where was God in all this carnage? God was silent! The night soon came to what was the longest day of my life. Before the sun set I noticed that a lean-to was built behind me with a cot and bedding. I was weary unto death and that was the stench filling my lungs. It was over and it appeared that whatever they were fighting for there was no winner. For me I was still alive to recount the nightmare without rest. I prayed and prayed and I even blasted God for His negligence or apathy. No matter my words or sincerity God was silent! Finally my eyes too dry to cry another tear closed to the moans of the perishing.

The morning came and I was ready to begin the mourning but the field was empty. Perplexed again I wondered whether it was all a dream even though I was pondering this question from the very field I was supposedly dreaming about. A confused mind is not that reliable. It was the same field but different. This time their was a small farm house with smoke coming out of the chimney. I could smell something delicious was cooking. This was the first moment I realized I had not eaten. With all that was eating me I completely forgot about food. I walked to the house hoping not to be an invisible visitor but a man again noticed by others. I was hoping perhaps if men notice me God might talk to me again. As I got closer I could see two beautiful little girls dressed like dolls playing near a creek about 400 feet from the house and about 200 feet from the edge of the woods. Before I could get a clear picture of the landscape so to speak two men dashed from the tree line and kidnapped these girls. I didn't know if it was a game but it looked ominous immediately. They picked them up covered their mouths and dashed back to the forest. I followed them for about a mile until they stopped. The girls were terrified and panting with fear. I prayed to God because I had already tried in my strength to deliver these girls and was unnoticed and ineffective. "God you have to deliver these girls they are innocent, how can you let this happen?" God was silent! It became clear that these men were perverts and they began to molest and rape the little girls. I was sick with helpless grief. When they had finally finished their evil lust they strangled the life out of them and left them where they laid. I was angry. I assaulted the throne with contempt. There is no way God should have let this happen. I wanted to debate Him to challenge the way He ran this globe. If I was God for only a moment I would have prevented this evil. I could hardly imagine the anguish of the parents if they even knew what pain awaited them. I followed these men out of the forest for curiosity sake and hopes I could somehow cross the dimension divide to assist in justice. To my surprise they ran straight into a very old church. It must be older than the 12th century because the stained glass was in black and white shades before the invention of colored glass. These men came to a priest sitting at a table with some official I later discovered as a sheriff. Were these guys going to confess and turn themselves in? They shook hands and exchanged friendly greetings. They all knew each other it was clear. The priest asked if the deed was done. Just like we planed the men replied in harmony. The sheriff spoke and said that this should break the spirits of the family and they will be forced to leave. The priest said "we had tried by every method including purchase to obtain that property for the benefit of the church and those heathens would not respect God in the slightest. All they could think of was this world, this life. Now they will think of God." This thoroughly twisted my complaint to God but only made the knot tighter in my stomach. How? How? How and why? God was silent! I went back to the field and discovered the parents bereaved and inconsolable with their dead girls in their arms. I was pouring out tears unnoticed to others but very depleting to me. Most of the day had actually passed and the sun was now low in the sky. I went back to the lean-to not so much because I was tired but I had a fatigue of soul that would take any comfort as relief like a soft cot and warm bedding. I laid down wanting this nightmare to be just that and to awake with it being over. I prayed without much hope of an answer but more out of habit now. Still I desired to get my moorings by God's voice. No matter, God was silent!

I must have slept hard because the sun was high in the sky. I could see my breath, and the ground was covered in snow. The structure of yesterday, well my perspective of yesterday was absent, the field was nothing but a white blanket. It was quiet and the air was fresh. I turned back to the lean-to for something to keep me warm. As I bent down for the animal skin I heard the whistle of artillery. "Not again" my soul cried. I turned quickly and at the tree line explosions were taking place. Allied forces were coming out into the field. Germany's forces appeared from the other side. Soon the horrid nightmare was in full swing again. This was brutal not so much in hand to hand but bodies would disintegrate or stop in their tracks by unseen weapons. I saw a small squad shoot their Lieutenant and run from the battle. Men were getting pummeled by such force that their bodies were turned in to flesh shrapnel. Those who lived with their wounds were killed by their own force so not to be a burden on their resources. All the disloyalties seemed crueler than the weapons. The battle raged with various ebbs and tides but I couldn't take it anymore so I ran into the lean-to and covered my eyes and ears. I could still hear the cries of death and desperation though I tried to block it out. Once the noise stopped I still didn't look into that field. After about a half hour of silence I finally took my hands from my eyes to see what had happened. I wished I hadn't the entire field was blood red. There was no white snow except for a little in the tops of the trees. I was sick to my stomach but I hadn't eaten now in two days and had nothing to offer this field of my repulsion. I went to the lean-to and covered myself while in a fetal position. I was losing it under this violent assault. I cried out to the Lord with I think tears of blood. God was silent! I was now certain that the devil had picked me up and brought me all these horrors but I could not understand why God was silent and distant. Now I needed Him more than ever. I prayed and prayed to no avail until I was wearied and went to sleep.

When I woke the field was a pallet full of colors. Too many flower types to even list. The smells and sights were absolutely refreshing. I was really starting to notice my hunger though. I wondered if the flowers would taste good. In the distance was a large farmhouse and a windmill. I started to walk towards it but I must admit I did so with trepidation and those chills tingling your spine. I was shell shocked to say the least. As I walked I was overcome by the silence. There was just a gentle breeze moving the flowers on their stems and nothing else. I looked at the tree line but they appeared quiet also. As I got closer to the house I could see that this was a small dairy and cheese factory. Now cheese and milk was suddenly my favorite food. I hoped I was not an invisible guest and could get something to eat. Suddenly the silence was broken by the cry of a baby. It was not the cry of death but an "I need attention" cry. It was heading towards its sounding until I came upon what appeared to be a nine month-old baby boy. I couldn't understand why it was in this field all alone but no one from the house seemed to notice. I picked the child up and cradled him in my arms and he became silent. Then from the heavens I heard this is my beloved Son in whom I am well pleased. I became faint and had to sit because my legs gave out. I so much wanted to hear God and now out of nowhere I have. I thought I had done something wrong. I cried and the baby smiled. I looked upon this child and was overcome with thoughts and emotions. I had never pictured God so humble and frail before. How is it that He would enter this world absolutely dependent on His creation. The risk inherent in this thought surprised me the most. I began to recall the scriptures of the warfare to destroy the seed of the Messiah's lineage before He was born and how Herod tried to kill the child after He was born. God who could destroy us in a blink as a baby. Here He was in my arms the God of all creation trusting me with Himself. I suddenly felt ashamed as I recalled my curses and threats to Him these last three days. Forgive me I asked. The baby's smile got larger. Then heaven continued; "My Son died for all the cruelty you have witnessed and for all you never will. He took every man's sin unto himself so you can be loved by me. For three days like yourself He was stuck in death and like you He was brought out. Unlike you though He still trusted in Me and didn't curse me in His travail. He had done nothing wrong and though I was silent I was still working on His behalf. Now take this boy to the family in the farmhouse."

I rose to my feet as my heart sank. I was condemned by those words but at the same time I was hearing from God and holding in my arms the greatest display of love in all history. That was an overwhelming comfort. I walked into what appeared to be the barn door for the animals in the back part of the dairy. Inside there was a family working diligently making cheese rounds. They didn't notice me at first but I said, does anyone know whose child this is? It was a question I wanted to blurt out the answer God's only Son. Before I could share my enthusiasm the women began screaming and dancing about and the frail old patriarch stood erect with tears flowing quickly. None of them could talk they were too excited. I didn't understand but I thought to myself is it that obvious this is the Son of God? Then my next thought was wow I'm noticed, not an invisible spectator. Well finally the patriarch came to my side and said "Young man God is faithful. May I hold the child?" "Of course," I replied and handed him the child. He held it like it was his own. The women where still crying, dancing, and praising the Lord. That all seemed appropriate somehow. The man rocking the child said to me. "Sir I've been expecting you for a very long time will you please join me for a fine cigar on my patio?" He walked away carrying the child and I followed. The woman came by to touch me with pointed fingers like testing to see if I was real and laughing when I was. The man asked me to hold the child while placing me in one of the two rocking chairs on the porch and said he would be back shortly after he obtained the cigars with something I needed to see. I rocked for awhile in awe of the smiling child who had not cried once since I heard Him breaking the silence. As the man sat down I learned that I was in a field in the Netherlands that had belonged to his family for over eight hundred years. He told me of the first of His relatives who almost lost it at the death of his two daughters and how God had used that terrible event to change the man's heart. Ever since then his family have been serving the Lord. He was a survivor of a concentration camp as a mere boy. He was about to be gassed when the night before God came to him in a vision. He said the vision was of a man holding a child. He asked the Lord what this meant and God replied. "The man will need you to uplift his spirit because he is about to do a great work for my kingdom and the child is your son who you will see again before you come home to me." He told me of how he drew a picture of that vision and how it encouraged him because he knew he wouldn't die. He had already lost all his family and he was the last to continue the family name.

The next day the Americans liberated him and he returned to this land. He built the house and the windmill. He got married to one of the dancing women and the others were his daughters and daughters-in-law. His first son was the joy of his life and part of his excitement was the continuation of the family when it had come so close to extinction. The cigars were burning down but he continued and I was enthralled. One day when his son was about nine months-old the generator on the windmill went out and he went to repair it. He realized that the child in the vision looked just like his son so he was overprotective about his son and never wanted him out of his presence. He took his son onto the roof of the windmill and made a platform for his basket while he worked. The child slept and enjoyed the fresh air. When he was about finished a lightning bolt struck the lightning rod about a few feet from him at the apex. The shock entered his body and flung him to the other side of the roof where his son was sleeping. Out of control of his limbs he crashed into the basket launching his son off the roof where he fell to his death. I wept immediately. He told me that God never talked with him much but that vision took on a whole new meaning of comfort after my boy's death. I realized that I was going to make it to eternity and that God one day would comfort me. I was going to see my boy one last time on this earth and then I was going to see him forever. Then he took out a very tattered piece of paper that had almost been folded into pieces itself. There were blood and sweat stains. He unfolded it and there was almost a perfect likeness of myself sketched in portrait. I was stunned. I said "That looks like me". He said it is and that child is my son. I was a bit confused but I had a sense the spirit was involved. I handed him the child and he took on the persona of a proud father and also the aura of divinity. He said to me, "Son, God was faithful enough to keep all that He had spoken to me. He told me about you 25 years before you were born. He knows all about you and you are in His plans like I was." At this knowledge I became like those dancing girls. I got out of my chair praised the Lord and danced the jig. I heard the man cough, I looked, the child disappeared and the man collapsed in his chair. He was gone and God had taken him home after keeping his promise. I took the picture in my hand and waved it before the Lord. I was not sad as this was the greatest sense of purpose I had ever seen. While praising the Lord I felt the grip of hands on my wrist and I was flying due west. In no time I was being dropped back into my cell.

I learned upon my arrival that it was Monday morning October 15, 2007 and Scott and I had court. We were beginning the trial. I knew that God had been involved in the back story and that I was never more safe in the danger I had to face today. Yes Lord you were never silent. From a baby's cry to mine you have always been speaking. I don't know if the event was a dream or real for the picture did not make my flight. Regardless God is in control. If it was real I have a new friend in heaven, but for now I have to encourage my friend Scott, my co-defendant, and brother in the Lord with one amazing story. A story as old as man himself. God loved us enough to die for us and to come as a dependent child. All our evil is covered by a love that is greater. Today we walk in that love before evil men and can feel confident. Even if we don't hear God's voice in our hour of need He is not silent! Scotty, a cigar aficionado just then said, "I must be ready to go home because you smell like cigar smoke."