Adventure is out There!

Once upon a time, a well-to-do Hobbit was asked to go on an Adventure.

His name was Bilbo Baggins, and the idea of Adventure was alarming. He was very comfortable in his cozy house, he had good friends, a lovely corner of the world to dwell in, and a beautiful place to call home. He believed, and he was right in thinking so, that Adventures were nasty, uncomfortable affairs that made one late for dinner.

But as time went on, his curiosity and excitement proved stronger than his determination to stay put. Bilbo realized that he needed to go on the Adventure, not only for his sake, but for the sake of others. He decided he was willing to face his fear, challenge the danger, and run pel-mel into the midst of the unknown, even if he would miss some supper or have to sleep on the ground instead of his nice little feather bed. He was a courageous Hobbit, whose small strength and bravery seemed hardly capable of penetrating the looming darkness, but he was willing, after a lot of fretting and worrying, to do his very best!

Bilbo answered the calling Adventure, and when he returned, he found that he was forever changed. He saw through eyes of experience and trial the hidden paths and unknown places that had always been beyond his reach, and his hands were rough from fighting and hard work. He no longer fit in among his peers because he had so drastically gone out, but Bilbo never lacked friends, they were only different to the sort of company he used to have.

Bilbo Baggins became known as one of the most famous Hobbits in all the history of Hobbits, and the world would have been a very different place had he declined his Adventure, because of course, all of us are called for some kind of Adventure. Some are great and some are small, but none, not even the smallest, is less important than the most epic of Adventures. The quiet ones are most comfortable, but Bilbo's Adventure molded him into better shape, as we all must try to do.

Once upon a time, in another world and time, a young teenager was asked to go on an Adventure, and, well, you get the picture...

This summer I took the Adventure of my lifetime and moved from my home in Colorado across the country to a new home in Tennessee. There have been mountains to move, rivers to cross, and valleys to climb, with some blood, sweat, and a lot of tears throughout. Like Bilbo Baggins, I'm learning to face the challenges and meet it with trembling courage. He made it seem so much easier.

I've learned a lot through these past months, and I'm only at the beginning of the Adventure. There's so much more to come and I'm ready to face it, come what may. I hope that someday, I shall return, go 'there and back again', as Bilbo did, but for now, I'm taking one step forward toward the right direction. It's the least I can do. I'm on an Adventure, after all.


P.S. Bilbo was right, Adventures make you late for dinner...

A Flight of Fancy III

A Flight of Fancy III

Janelle Spiers

The Flight Of Fancy: A Collection of Short Story Samples All Based On This Beginning Sentence...

"The brilliant blaze was burning my eyes, but I couldn't tell where it was coming from..."

'The brilliant blaze was burning my eyes, but I couldn't tell where it was coming from.  As I forced my body to sit up, I was able to discern that I was on a sandy beach and the lapping of ocean waves was audible. The sun was overhead, must have been why I couldn't see anything, it was so bright.  My throat was thick and my tongue felt parched, so I struggled to my feet. I needed a drink of water, then I would figure out what I was going to do; I remembered through the beating pulses of my headache the fire on deck, the explosion, and being flung headlong into the ocean. I felt weak at the thought of my comrades, all of whom were undoubtedly lost...'

'The brilliant blaze was burning my eyes, but I couldn't tell where it was coming from, so I shut the door and stopped to catch my nervous breath. Instantly, the light disappeared from the cracks around the old steel door.  

'What did you see, Hemlock? Was it a ghost?' 

'No, Sheila, I don't think so. I don't know what it was.' I felt my knees tremble and I couldn't let her know that I was as terrified as she was. 'Come on, doll face, let's get back to your grandfather. He'll want us back before tea-time; I think we've done enough exploring for one day.' 

She agreed, as so we turned to go back up the stairs, but though I was nervous, my curiosity was still piqued enough by the light in the safe. 'One more look, Sheila. Just one more.' I felt for the handle and pulled the door open just a crack. 

Instantly, two things happened which I will never be able to forget, no matter how old or aged I become; the events that followed will haunt me forever, because they shaped my future. First, I opened the door slightly, and the light flooded back into the room, but a heavy force pushed the safe all the way open, shoving me to the floor. and second, Sheila screamed so piercingly I felt the blood in my heart freeze as I turned to see a dark shadow gliding down the stairs towards us...'

"The brilliant blaze was burning my eyes, but I couldn't tell where it was coming from. The smoke was intense and it was billowing upwards in the sky.  As the villagers ran away from the blaze, I slid my feet into my boots and ran towards the epicenter of panic. 

'Haldrim, do something!' The people pleaded as I ran through their midst. 

'I will if you will let me through!' I shouted as I pushed my way through the mob of frightened citizens. Once I broke through the sooty masses, I unfurled my wings and glided over the abandoned homes and desecrated livelihoods. This must be the work of the Gahool. Only they could wreak such damage on the innocents.  I thought to myself as I soared towards the capitol. 

Suddenly, arrows whizzed through the air in front of me and I dived to the ground, but not swiftly enough. An arrow pierced my forearm, and I lost balance; plummeting harshly to the ground. I barely had time to get to my feet, much less remove the arrow and bind my wounds before three archers came running with their weapons at the ready. 

'Stand down, creature.' They called in bold voices, but I could read the fear in their eyes like poetry; they were terrified, and I found that beautiful. 

'Nay, fiends. Why should I bow down to my assailants? If you want me, you'll have to come and get me...'

...A Flight of Fancy... 

Dracula ~ A Book Review

Dracula

Book By Bram Stoker

Review by Janelle A. Spiers

“Never did tombs look so ghastly white. Never did cypress, or yew, or juniper so seem the embodiment of funeral gloom. Never did tree or grass wave or rustle so ominously. Never did bough creak so mysteriously, and never did the far-away howling of dogs send such a woeful presage through the night.”

~ Bram Stoker, Dracula

“There are darknesses in life and there are lights, and you are one of the lights, the light of all lights.”
   ~ Bram Stoker, Dracula

WARNING:  Please be aware that if you continue reading this Book Review, you may be subject to reading spoilers and or secrets of the original book.  However, all attempts shall be made to hide the crucial points, in the event that this review encourages you to read this book.  Any information divulged will be deemed by the author of this review necessary to the review, or, not capable of ruining any major surprise. 

Bram Stoker wrote Dracula in 1897 and changed the fictional realm of horror forever.  Stoker’s haunting story of death, love, and fantasized monsters brings both inspiration and chills to the reader, thrusting them into a tale mixed to the brim with modern life and early European folklore.  Dracula has made such an impact in the literary world that Bram Stoker’s ideas have been used in many stories since that time.

Despite the grim circumstances and breath-taking drama, Dracula is a powerful story about good vs. evil.  The light of goodness, truth, and holiness are starkly and beautifully contrasted with the darkness of evil, lies, and horror.  Stoker wove a powerful, golden thread of redemption throughout his dark tapestry, so that no matter how dark the night or how desperate the character, there is always some hope left on which they can cling.  The idea of love being more powerful than fear is also present.  Each of the characters are challenged to decide how far they are willing to go for love for each other, and for life itself.

The unforgettable story begins with a man named Jonathan Harker travelling across the Carpathian Mountains to the castle of Count Dracula, where he will be helping with a legal affair.  After the frightening experience of trying to get to the secluded, mysterious castle, Jonathan finds himself the guest of an equally mysterious master.  As time passes, suspicion and fear begin to build, and Jonathan realizes that he is no longer a guest, but a prisoner; Dracula has locked him in the old castle.  A series of harrowing events plague Jonathan and he barely escapes with his life back to England where his fiancé awaits him.

But a long, arduous life has just begun for the heroes of this tale.  A shipwreck on the coast brings with it strange and deadly results and a young woman with sleepwalking issues suddenly begins to look more pale than usual.  With the help of two brilliant doctors and two other stout gentlemen, Harker and his newlywed wife, Mina, are faced with the fact that there is a mythical creature in their midst, and if they do not stop the threat, Dracula will destroy the world they know and love.

Jonathan Harker is a very steadfast, cool-headed man, but his encounter with Dracula and his eerie home leaves a great strain on him, especially when he thinks his life is at stake.  He spends the rest of the story with a burning passion to defeat the monster, but at the same time, he can lapse into a very weak and fearful state, typically more for his bride than himself.

Mina Harker is the faithful, “guiding star” for the men of this tale.  Her loyalty and compassion to her husband is equally, yet properly, shared with the other gentlemen who bond together to destroy Dracula.  When Mina is attacked by Dracula and her life takes a terrible turn, she longs to stay with those she loves, but she is willing to sacrifice herself in order to keep her friends safe.

Dr. Seward is a major piece of the puzzle and he is necessary to the destruction of Dracula.  He specializes in helping the insane and mentally disabled, and when one such man is found to be working for the Count, Seward manages to pry information from the man to help them in their conquest.

Perhaps the greatest protagonist is Abraham Van Helsing, a Dutch doctor and former teacher of Dr. Seward.  Van Helsing is the first one to discover what Dracula is and how he can be stopped, and despite the fact that no one believes him, he manages to prove Dracula’s true identity and the means to ending him.  Van Helsing is a quiet, thoughtful man with much faith and brain that ultimately result in the demise of Dracula.

Dracula himself is a creature of much discretion and sinister intent.  As a vampire, he is neither dead nor living, and is called “un-dead” as a result.  He preys on anyone and everyone but with so much secrecy that it is almost impossible to detect.  One of the most remarkable traits that Count Dracula possesses is that he is very patient and slow; with no fear of dying from old age, he has hundreds upon hundreds of years on his hands, and so every movement he makes is bold, but in no rush.

The writing style of Dracula is very unique.  Instead of constant narration, the entire book is split up into journal entries written by the main characters, gatherings of newspaper clippings, letters, telegrams, etc.  In addition, the ways the words are written or constructed vary, depending on which character is writing or recording.  However, on an overall note, the understandability of the story can be difficult, due to the older way of speaking and writing, also, based on the long, winding plot line and information that comes with it.

Abraham Stoker was born on November 8, 1847, in Dublin, Ireland, the third of seven children.  Stoker was bedridden for the first several years of his life from an unknown disease or illness, but by age seven, he was completely recovered and able to attend a private school; he never suffered from any major illness again.  In his early adulthood, Stoker married Florence Balcombe, who had been previously courted by his friend, Oscar Wilde.  The Stokers moved to London, where their only child was born, and Stoker became the theater manager for Henry Irving, a famous actor.  There he was introduced to notable people, such as Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and on traveling to America, president Theodore Roosevelt, William McKinley, and Walt Whitman.  Dracula was written in 1897, but never attracted much popularity until after his death on April 20, 1912.

Though the story and its characters are fascinating and enjoyable, some of the content may be unsuitable for young or sensitive readers.  There are a few instances of swearing, but they are mild and not used flippantly.  There is some romance between two couples without the book, but nothing intimate is ever recorded or hinted.  Several of the female vampires that appear in the story are described as intensely lovely and they act rather seductively in hopes of luring in prey, but the characters shun such creatures.

            The intensity of the story can be overwhelming.  Several beloved characters die, and one, who died a as a vampire, must be mutilated after death to keep her from attacking innocent children, which she had been doing.  Blood is a central theme and gory idea that fuels the story along, so it may be unpleasant to read.  There is also a mentally insane man who eats flies, spiders, birds, and wants to eat cats, as well, and his death may be distressing.

            The progression of Dracula’s stunning plot line is neat, concise and has left very little room for argumentation, barring the fact that vampires are works of fictitious imagination. All the characters, from gentle and graceful Mina to the intelligent and thoughtful Van Helsing are almost like living creatures that grow and live within the tale.  Bram Stoker has painted a breathing portrait of a world about to be undone by the un-dead.

            Dracula was not the first story about vampires, but by it, a path was forged through the uncharted territory of fiction that still progresses today.  One of Bram Stoker’s characters once said, “I want you to believe...to believe in things that you cannot.” Stoker tried to create a piece of far-fetched fiction into a tale that would seem so real it could bite you, and that is exactly what he did.   Dracula is an amazing, thrilling, haunting tale about the search for light in the darkest places, love in the most hopeless times, and peace from the dreaded monster, Count Dracula.  

(Based on a rating system entirely made up of pros and cons, I judge by different categories to ensure that the reader of this review can aptly choose if this book is an appropriate for themselves or others.)

Theme ~ Positive! (For excellent topics that are inspiring and applicable to life.)

Plot Line ~ Positive! (For a gripping, unmatched storyline)

Characters ~ Positive! (Very memorable and extremely consistent)

Writing Quality ~ Negative! (For difficult, archaic writing style)

Mature Content ~ Negative! (Intense and graphic sequences, more suitable for an older audience.)

Congruency ~ Positive! (For extreme consistency in plot, characters, and quality)

The total score for Dracula by Bram Stoker is 4 out of a possible 6 positive points.

Where the Road Ends

"The Road goes ever on and on..."

Every life is a picture, or a painting, or a legacy to leave behind, but how is it that we get from one place to another?  Life is a story, but we are all traveling down the road that gets us there, from one chapter to the next. On and on it goes, but few of us can ever see that we are taking a journey that will lead us to our final destination; it will either lead us home or we will be lost along the way. 

“It’s a dangerous business, Frodo, going out of your door,” he used to say. “You step into the Road, and if you don’t keep your feet, there is no telling where you might be swept off to.” ~ Lord of the Rings

I looked out of the window through the foggy glass, and I saw that a road wound before me, disappearing into the mist and fog of early morning. There's never any time like the present, so I grabbed my coat and slipped out into the chill, determined to see where the road would take me.  As soon as my feet touched the pavement, a little cloud of fog vanished in a whirl of vapor, but it was not enough. I could only see one step ahead of me, and so I stepped again.  As if it knew my intent, the humid smoke disappeared, but only enough to see one step farther. This time I could see a light that helped me to see the edge of the road, but not what was ahead.  In anxious excitement, I resigned myself to follow the road until I came to the end.

It was easy going at first. One step cleared the way for the next and I hurried forward towards the light as fast as my feet could go, making marvelous ground. I could see behind me; it was hazy with dew, but visible, which relieved my fear. I could always go back. 

“Go back?” he thought. “No good at all! Go sideways? Impossible! Go forward? Only thing to do! On we go!” ~ Lord of the Rings

I pressed onward, steadily going on, until I came to a place where there was no fog. It had stopped like a wall and as I pressed out of it, I saw that I had come to a cross road.  One branch of the road was wide and smooth, with large, scented flowers all bunched around the edges.  The other was narrow and coarse with small, insignificant buds blooming along the cracks that ran through the road.  'Why shouldn't I choose the way that is clear and pleasant?' thought I, as I summoned my tiring feet forward. 

But the smooth way was not easier, as I soon found out.  It started leading me downwards towards a valley that smelled so strongly of rich perfumes, I felt myself growing faint with delight. The way was beautiful and satisfying, but as I reached the valley, I saw a terrible creature pacing back and forth along the grass.  At once I was horrified and I turned to escape the beast, but found that there were no longer pleasant flowers and lush meadows, but sharp crags and dusty winds rising up to meet me.  As storms raged and overcame me, I cried out for mercy and hid my face from the gales.  I staggered back the way I had come, but the road was steep and difficult for me to scale. But for my fear of the dragon, I should have laid down and let the storms take me.

"The world is indeed full of peril, and in it there are many dark places; but still there is much that is fair, and though in all lands love is now mingled with grief, it grows perhaps the greater." ~ Lord of the Rings

After a long, arduous fight, I made it back to the little crossroads and took the narrow branch speedily. There was no apparent beauty, and my love for the other path began to taint my view of the small one, but I was reminded of the hideous beast and kept on.  I soon discovered that this road had a beauty of its own; the wildflowers that grew in the path made me stop and gaze at them. The birds were singing cheerfully and the sky was blue overhead.  Suddenly, the fog drifted back over the road and I could no longer see ahead of me further than one step, but the little light held fast in its center.  The birds still chirped and the flowers lingered, but I had to trust that the light would hold true and not lead me astray. 

After much climbing, upwards, as I believed, I began to grow weak from weariness. I shed my jacket and left it by the roadside and continued forward, until I reached the place where the fog again ceased. In its place was a weather-beaten shepherd, who sat with the rod in his hand and a flower in the other. 

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference." ~ Robert Frost

"So you have come," the shepherd said, as if expecting me.

"Yes, but where am I?" 

"You have come to where the road ends. Is that not why you have come? You set out to seek it."

"Indeed, I wanted to know where the road leads to, but I nearly forgot my purpose for coming. It has been a long journey." I said as I sat down to rest. 

Suddenly, the fog on the road vanished and all was clear as light upon water.  I could see the place at which I had started, far off in the distance, but it was as close as if it were before me. I saw the twisting winding road which I had taken, though I thought it to be straight. I saw the forked path and the valley which looked now as dark as midnight. And I saw that I had come to a place high above the rest and could see clearly the road that lay behind me. 

"You, my friend," said the shepherd with his rod, "have come a far way. The fog made it impossible to see, so that you would trust the light to guide your path. You took many turns that you did not know, but now, looking back, you can see what a journey you have taken. You fell prey to the temptations and delights of the wide path, and were nearly overcome by the evilness that lurked there.  But, dear one, you righted your course, and though difficult, you made your way back to the lighted path.  And now you are here, where the road ends. You have come into your home."

"…time has a way of leading a person along a crooked path. Sometimes the path is hard to hold to and people fall off along the way. They curse the road for its steep grades and muddy ruts and settle themselves in hinterlands of thorn and sorrow, never knowing or dreaming that the road meant all along to lead them home. Some call that road a tragedy and lose themselves along it. Others, those that see it home, call it an adventure." ~ The Fiddler’s Gun

A Ship

A Ship

Original Poem by Janelle Spiers

A ship is a rollicking, wild phantom,

Soaring across the waving seas.

A ship is a wild, flying bird

To take us where we please.

The ship is a carpet of fairy dust,

Magic and wholly untrue.

Sweet ships are a kiss upon the lips

As they bring me home to you.

Where are the sails and briny oars?

Show me the rigging and sandy shores --

Dip me a flagon of ocean chill

And the rolling waves that can't keep still.

Hand me adventure and splintered wood

And all that's wet, and salty, and good.

A ship is a conquistador of old,

Driving heavily through the rain.

A ship is a princess who catches my eye

And carries away all of my pain.

The ship is a secret treasure,

Buried beneath the yards of sail.

The ship is Lord of the Sea,

King of fish and mighty whale.

Where is the creak of rolling madness?

Show me the sails of departing sadness --

Dip me a flagon of salty sea,

And the rolling waves that call to me.

Hand me freedom and coiled ropes

And all that's bright with salty hopes.

Triumph Over Evil ~ Part II

...“You have no place here,” I said addressing their leader.

“Why can we not dwell where we choose?”  He asked saucily.  Silfun had been a messenger angel and I knew how he worked.  He was bluffing, stalling for time.  I had no time to loose, I wasn’t sure how long their Carrier had been at work, and so I cut right to the point.

“You cannot dwell where you choose, because you have no authority over the Lord.”

The demon paled, as did the others with him.  Without losing a beat, I motioned for Phineas to take out the

Carrier.  Joran and Marcus moved closer to me.  Rolf and Wes moved into a defensive crouch, never once releasing the tension on their bowstrings.  The showdown was about to begin.... ~ Triumph Over Evil Part I

Triumph Over Evil ~ Part II

The Man

I closed my eyes and put my hands to my head.  The voice I argued with was smooth like a polished kitchen counter, and gentle.  I couldn’t figure out where it was coming from, but I didn’t really want it to go away.  It had a soothing affect.

So, what will you do?  Will you give up the chance to eat and likely be beaten again, all for the sake of a dead man?

It was getting harder to fight back and even harder to want to.  Jesus… isn’t… dead.

Really, then why hasn’t He come for you?  Why hasn’t He delivered you from this trial?  Eat the food.  What harm would it bring?

I opened my eyes and picked up the plastic fork next to my plate.  What harm would it bring?  I thought hungrily.  I could see the Afghans grinning and rubbing their hands in pleasure.

Before I could scoop up a bite of steaming rice, a second voice broke through my thoughts.  The voice was strong and powerful, but not as calming as the first.  Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour.  Resist him, standing firm in the faith, because you know that the family of believers throughout the world is undergoing the same kind of sufferings.  And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast.  To him be the power forever and ever.  Amen.

Stand firm against, what?  The first voice hissed.  Suffering?  Pain?  What is the point?

The first voice did not answer the questions, but continued to address me.  Be on your guard; stand firm in the faith; be courageous; be strong!

I will.  I will!  I thought.

NO!  There is no point!  Eat the food.  Stand up after you have had a chance to rest!

The first voice was sounding desperate, but I was feeling encouraged.  “NO” is right! I will not rest until my work is done!  I am a soldier of Jesus.

You are no soldier of Jesus.  You thought things that Jesus would not approve of.  He will hate you!  The first voice was beginning to sound more like a shriek.

He is right, I acknowledged soberly.

Yes, the first voice said soothingly, I am.  Come, you are hungry.  You cannot think well on an empty stomach.  Your reasoning is disjointed.  Eat.

I am the bread of life.  Whoever comes to me will never go hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.

The second voice spoke with such authority I could almost feel the first voice cringe.  The second voice wasn’t finished.  Have I not commanded you?  Be strong and courageous.  Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.  Submit yourselves, then, to God.  Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.  Be strong and courageous.  Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.

Be strong and courageous!  With those words in mind, I knew what I had to do, and without giving any more thought to the matter I threw the fork onto the floor. “I will never eat your food if I have to deny Jesus to do so.”

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The Being

“NOOOO!” The demon Carrier shrieked in horror.  I smiled with satisfaction, knowing that Kasil probably won that battle.  The cry was cut short as the demon crumpled to the ground.  Phineas had tapped him a little too hard over the head with his hammer.  Enraged, the demons retaliated, immediately engaging Joran and Marcus in combat.

Silfun pulled a black, double-sided ax carelessly from his belt.  As he moved forward, a bloodthirsty gleam entered his eyes.  Instead of lashing out at me as I anticipated, he swung towards Rolf.  Rolf ducked and fumbled with his bow, but Silfun swatted it away.  His blade lacerated Rolf’s arm, leaving a deep gash.  Rolf fell to the ground with a cry, cradling his arm.

The demon drew back his arm to finish Rolf off, but before I could block him, Wes shot an arrow straight into the demon’s eye.  Silfun howled in pain and ripped the arrow from his skull.  Wes moved to comfort his brother.

Silfun threw the arrow at me.  I gingerly avoided it.  I moved towards the unprotected Kasil, who seemed undisturbed by the pandemonium around him.  Silfun’s face was streaming with blood and he had an empty socket where his eye had been.  He raised his ax and brought it down with a tremendous thud, right where my shoulder would have been had I not moved in time.  I thrust my blade into the monster’s unguarded rib cage.  Infuriated and wounded, he roared, swinging his ax at my mid-section.  I plunged my sword into his thigh and he screamed.

Pulling the sword out of his leg, he flung it to the ground and backed up weakly.  He glared furiously at me, then flew away on his bloodstained wings.  The other demons retreated too, taking their unconscious Carrier with them. “You can’t win every time!” Silfun screamed over his shoulder.

“NO, but God can!” I shouted back.

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The Man

The three men stopped smiling.  As they looked from the fallen fork to me, then back to the fork, I could tell that these guys weren’t happy, and I figured I wouldn’t be either when they were done with me. Shorty was the first to break out of his trance.  He bent over and picked up the fork, nearly stabbing me in the eye with it.

“Won’t eat? Still love Jesus?” he spat.

“Yes.  I still love Jesus,” I replied, knowing I had made the right choice.

But when the Cheshire Cat Man drew a gun and pointed it at my chest, I wasn’t quite so sure.

“Deny Jesus, or he shoot you,” Tall Guy threatened.

“I won’t deny Jesus.” I said strongly and soberly.  I had just resigned to die, but I didn’t feel afraid.

Cheshire Cat Man started his obnoxious grinning again as he came closer and closer to me, changing the aim of the gun to my face.  He kept coming until he was inches from me.  I looked into the barrel of the gun, and closed my eyes.

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The Being

Joran and Marcus both had minor scratches from their skirmish.  Phineas was unscathed, so he carried Rolf.  Wes wouldn’t leave his side.  Rolf’s arm was severely wounded, but he would survive.  Kasil had his arms folded across his chest again.  I didn’t understand how he could always stay so calm.

Suddenly, a loud popping noise shattered the silence.  The Veil burst and we were suddenly standing outside John Morton’s door.

“Captain, what happened?” Joran asked.

I didn’t really know, but I stated the obvious, just to sound smart. “Something broke the Veil.”

“How?” Wes queried, without looking away from his brother.

“I don’t know,” I admitted, shaking my head.

“Look.” Kasil said softly.  His voice had changed, but it was still full of authority.  We all turned to see where Kasil was pointing.

The door that led to John Morton’s Veil was gone.  In its place was a purple cross.

Lord God, why did you let John die? I prayed in horror as I flew down the corridor. I was commissioned to help him, but I failed.  All I accomplished was getting my men wounded. Please give me a glimpse of your will!

I was silent.  The Lord answered in His own timing, so I waited.  It wasn’t long before I heard the voice of my Maker, my King.  His voice made me feel small, yet at the same time, great, because I had the ability to speak with the King of the Universe with an intimacy that startled most humans.

Daric, you did not fail.  You did exactly what I intended.

But how, Lord?

My way is the best way.  John was being tested.  I wanted him to make his own decision, as I want for all of my people.  Had you not done as I wished, John would have suffered.

Did he make the right choice?

Daric, what did you see on the wall in place of the door?

A cross, my King.

John Morton died for my sake.  So, did he make the right choice?

Anything done for your sake is the best choice anyone can make.

You are correct, Daric.  Remember, all things work together for good for those who love me. Nothing I am a part of happens in vain.  Do you believe this?

I do, Lord.

When I was finished, I felt better.  I no longer felt tired from my fight, and I was filled with a sense of peace and contentment.  I kept that feeling all the way back to heaven, even when I went through the portal.  I no longer felt frustrated that I had wasted my time when the Lord already knew John was going to die anyway.  I felt glad that I had gone.  If we hadn’t, John Morton might still have been alive, but he would have rejected the Lord to do so.  I was glad I could be part of such a life-changing moment. 

acdb

The Man

I had heard the gun go off, and everything around me went black.  I could hear the men talking in Arabic, but it soon grew muddled and a single Voice rang out above the din.

Well done, good and faithful servant.  Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven!

A pinpoint of light shattered the darkness.  It was small, but it gradually became bigger as it came towards me.  No, I realized, I am going towards it.

Home is where the heart is, people always said.  Well, my heart belonged to Jesus, and as the light shone brighter, I knew that I was going home.

"Well done, good and faithful servant..."