LXXVII

YOUR SONS AND YOUR DAUGHTERS SHALL PROPHECY, AND YOUR YOUNG MEN SHALL SEE VISIONS, AND YOUR OLD MEN SHALL DREAM DREAMS

ACTS 2:17

SEVENIA SALLIE (GIRL PROPHETESS)

“I have recently had a couple of dreams about an angel named Melanchthon,” Captain Kirk, aka Pastor Samson, had told me. “But how did you know?”

“Just a hunch,” I shrugged.

The Pastor and I were in his office chatting an hour after his Sabbath day sermon and a half hour after the fellowship meal.

“A hunch?” Captain Kirk asked with a slow, low voice, his clear blue eyes peered at me above his bifocals.

“You’ve told me about Melanchthon before,” I replied with another shrug. “You know, how he warned you about my dad.”

“Yes, that,” the pastor replied with a neutral tone. “The thing with Seven could be a coincidence.”

“A coincidence? You know my dad’s soul was being destroyed by his own broadcast and everything that went with it. Yet it is what he lived for. The Seven Sallie Showdown had millions of listeners. But after my dad’s miraculous conversion, he changed the content of the show and now it has a fraction of the audience he once had. Yet he’s never been happier.”

“Yes, a clear conscience can do that. And he’s still making a decent living, isn’t he?”

“But now you’re doubting your encounter with Melanchthon in that regard?”

He frowned, grunted, and waved his hands above his head, making him look like a nutty professor. I couldn’t help giggling, even though I was somewhat dismayed at his skepticism. It was so unlike Captain Kirk. “I’ve never known you to doubt.”

“I don’t doubt scripture, Deary. But the Bible instructs us to try the spirits to see if they’re from God (1 John 4:1). So what I do doubt is my senses, especially now that I’m of a ripe age. Getting close to the bone yard is me.”

I laughed, and then he did too. However I hated the thought of him dying and said told him so. Then I urged him to talk about Melanchthon.

“The dreaming about angels is not the dream I wanted to talk to you about,” he told me.

“It’s not?” I frowned.

“Why such a disappointed look?”

“Because I had a dream about angels myself last night,” I replied. “I was hoping our two dreams might have been in synch.”

“What was your dream? Was the angel in it called Melanchthon?”

“Not that I know of,” I said. “The angel in my dream was nondescript. The whole dream was pretty vague, and I guess chaotic, except for one small part where I was with a band of believers. But I didn’t know most of them. An angel was leading us up a mountain trail. There was a sharp drop off on the right side. As we climbed higher and higher, the path became narrower and narrower. Then the trail dropped off on both sides. People complained, but the angel encouraged us on. Even so, most of them turned back. The trail became so narrow, it was as if we were on a steel girder high up in the sky. The angel pressed us on, but we could only scoot on our hands and knees.”

“Who exactly is we?” Captain Kirk asked, with wide curious eyes.

“The only two I recognized in the dream were Marcy and Oralee. They were just ahead of me. Oralee started to cry and wailed that she was gonna fall. Marcy put her on her back and continued on, but very slowly. I asked her if she was okay. She turned to look at me and tears were coming out of her eyes. Only the tears were blood.”

The pastor gazed at me as if in awe, as he handed me a tissue. It was then I realized a couple of tears had popped out of my own eyes. Fortunately, mine were clear liquid.

“What happened next?” the Pastor asked.

“The angel picked the three of us up, and we soared toward a bright light. I was relieved that all of the blood seemed to be off of Marcy’s cheeks and she had a smile that lit up her face.”

Captain Kirk and I looked at each other for a long moment.

“What next?” he asked.

“Nothing,” I shrugged. “I jolted awake. I guess the sensation of flying woke me up.”

“At least it seemed to end well,” he said and then stroked his beard a few times before continuing. “Marcy was also in my dream. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Wow, really?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Okay, well, you know I met Marcy for the first time a week ago, give or take.”

“Yes.”

“Now I haven’t had a dream or flash back about the Vietnam war in quite some time. Thank God! But I think seeing Marcy’s eyes triggered them.”

“What about her eyes?”

“They’re haunted. I mean, they looked better today, thank the Lord. But they’re still haunted in the same way as soldiers with PTSD. The same way as… Sherry Drummond.”

“Who’s Sherry Drummond?”

The Pastor didn’t answer. He pinched the bridge of his nose and bowed his head. He sat stone still for twenty or thirty seconds. Then his shoulders began to shake as he sobbed. I felt myself go ridged. I had seen the Pastor shed tears before, but not like this. I sat quietly and gave him time.

“Well, that was embarrassing,” Captain Kirk said meekly as he composed himself.

“It’s just me,” I said softly, as I took his hand and squeezed.

“Thanks, kiddo.”

“Do you feel like telling me who Sherry Drummond is?”

“She was the fiancée of one of the men I was Chaplain for during the war. Tim Williams was his name. Wonderful man, brave, loyal, conscientious. He confided in me more than the average soldier did. We talked of his fears and anxieties, as well as his hopes and dreams. One of the dreams he talked about was marrying his girlfriend as soon as his hitch was up. His main fear about dying was Sherry. He had told me on more than one occasion that she was a very sensitive soul.

“A couple months after I returned to the states after my second and final tour in Vietnam, Timmy was killed in battle. Oddly, the same day I found out about his death, I received a letter from him. It was short, but to the point.”

Pastor opened a drawer of his desk, pulled out an old, yellowed letter, and handed it to me. I opened it and looked at the handwritten page.

“Dear Chappy,” I read. “The fighting here the last couple days has been intense. I’ve got a feeling I probably won’t survive the war. Sir, you are the only person I feel I can tell this to. If I don’t make it, please, please, please, go to Sherry! Tell her to love again. Tell her to go on with her life. Tell her that dreaming of her got me through many lonely nights, and fearsome battles, and I love her more than words can describe. Explain to her that in heaven, people neither marry nor are given in marriage, but are as the angels of God. So it doesn’t matter if she loves again, and she has a lotta love to give. She’ll be an amazing mother some day! But she is so loyal, I’m afraid she’ll never move on. Tell her regardless of loving again, she and I will still be in eternity together. I’m sorry to ask this huge favor of you, but I didn’t know who else to turn to. As I’ve told you before, Sherry is very fragile. But you have such a gift, Sir, of putting people at ease. So I thank you! I also miss you, Sir! Your friend, Corporal Timothy Williams.”

(The Bible reference in the letter was from Matthew 22:23-30)

I looked at Captain Kirk. He was leaned back in his desk chair, his hands interlaced and resting on his midsection, his head turned as he stared blankly out of the office window.

“So what happened with Sherry?” I asked, with a croaked voice. I also realized tears were streaming down my face. Pastor sighed and then slowly turned his gaze toward me.

“Well,” he said, sighing again as he handed me another tissue. “I went to see her. We spent a whole afternoon talking. Although she was consumed with grief, by the time I left, she had seemed composed. When we parted, she even smiled and thanked me. But her eyes were still haunted. Maybe even more than when I had first arrived. That’s how Marcy reminded me of Sherry. When I met Marcy, she gave me a genuine smile, and a soft, pleasant hello, so eerily similar to Sherry’s smile and soft goodbye. Yet they both wore that same contradiction in their  countenance. Friendly smile and haunted eyes.”

“So, did Sherry eventually end up getting married?” I asked quietly.

“No, kiddo, she didn’t,” Pastor said, and then sighed yet again. “When I arrived back where I was stationed on the east coast, my assistant informed me that Sherry had ended her life just an hour or two after I left her.”

(DESTINY KNIGHT-STORM’S BIBLE STUDY NOTES AND QUOTES)

Our Savior’s joy was in the uplifting and redemption of fallen humanity. For this He counted not His life dear unto Himself, but endured the cross, despising the shame.

The spirit of Christ’s self-sacrificing love is the spirit that pervades heaven and is the very essence of its bliss.

The Savior’s life on earth was not a life of ease and devotion to Himself, but He toiled with persistent, earnest, untiring effort for the salvation of lost mankind.

If the love of God is in the heart, it will be manifested in the life. The sweet savor of Christ will surround us, and our influence will elevate and bless.

No tears are shed that God does not notice. There is no smile that He does not mark. If we would fully believe this, all undue anxieties would be dismissed. Our lives would not be so filled with disappointment as now.

“Subject to like passions as we are.” (James 5:17) With the history of patriarchs and prophets, we see how they struggled through discouragements similar to our own. How they fell under temptation as we have done, and yet took heart again and conquered through the grace of God.

“Except you eat the flesh of the Son of Man, and drink His blood, you have no life in you.” Jesus explains Himself by saying, “The words that I speak to you, they are spirit, and they are life.” (John 6:53, 63)

Fill the whole heart with the words of God. They are the living water, quenching your burning thirst. They are the living bread from heaven.

The theme of redemption is one that angels desire to look into. It will be the science and song of the redeemed throughout the ceaseless ages of eternity. Is it not worthy of careful thought and study now!

The infinite mercy and love of Jesus, the sacrifice made in our behalf, call for the most serious and solemn reflection. We should dwell upon the character of our dear Redeemer and Intercessor. We should meditate upon the mission of Him who came to save His people from their sins.

If we allow others to do our thinking, we shall have crippled energies and contracted abilities.

If God’s word were studied as it should be, people would have a breadth of mind, a nobility of character, and a stability of purpose rarely seen in these times.

But there is little benefit derived from a hasty reading of the scriptures. One may read the whole Bible through and yet fail to see its beauty or comprehend its deep and hidden meaning.

We can’t obtain wisdom without earnest attention and prayerful study. Prayer is the better half of study.

Angels will be with those who in humility of heart seek for divine guidance.

The Spirit of truth is the only effectual teacher of divine truth. How must God esteem the human race, since He gave His Son to die for them and appoints His Spirit to be man’s teacher and continual guide!