by Lee Carroll
Mike felt as if he were watching an ocean liner approach at top speed. It was all he could do not to close his eyes! At that moment, a light of unbelievable intensity seemed to leap from the blade of Mike’s weapon and strike the beast with incredible force. The blow did not stop ITs forward motion, but served to deflect ITs attack off to one side. Even though the creature was thrown off-balance, IT was still able to send a blow in Mike’s direction. Mike automatically thrust his shield up protectively, although he was sure the mighty fist was going to smash him and the shield with a single blow.
But the shield and armor again did what they had done during the earlier storm, even though Michael Thomas hadn’t realized it. The armor instantly surrounded Michael Thomas with a bubble of protective light. The shield shot a series of intense dartlike pulses into the approaching arm. Light seemed to blaze up around Michael, to fly in all directions! The smell of ozone from the ionized air and the interaction of matter meeting antimatter was pungent. Instead of the crashing blow Mike expected from the creature’s arm, the monstrous extremity was instantly repelled by the protective light. So powerful was this force that it had the effect of actually lifting the creature off the ground and knocking IT backward for some distance. Mike was unscathed and continued to stand where he had been.
The light was beautiful. Michael Thomas was astounded by the gifts he held in his hands! They had worked perfectly in tandem and had repulsed the attack of the giant. Mike noticed that while the battle-created light was pleasing to him, the massive beast had to shield ITs eyes from the intensity. The light continued to work in Mike’s favor. Used to the dimness of the gray day, the creature was finding it difficult to adjust to light. Mike smiled in recognition at the gift of weather. He indeed was on home ground! He spoke confidently to the beast—something he remembered Orange had said.
“Does the shield of knowledge irritate you, my ugly green nemesis? Darkness cannot exist where there is knowledge. No secrets can survive in the light, and light will be created when truth is revealed!”
At these words, the creature was up on ITs feet and charging Mike again, this time with menacing resolve. Mike didn’t think he could stop the freight-train attack this time. An arm was one thing, but the whole package? Mike waited until the last possible moment, then he darted forward off the rock just as the creature reached him. Again, Mike advanced instead of retreating, and again he created an unexpected situation where he was too close to be captured or dealt with easily. The size and weight of the beast was working against it.
Mike actually found himself running between the giant’s enormous stubby legs. As he passed beneath the creature, he extended his arm, thrusting his sword so that the blade tore into the beast’s crotch with a glorious light display. Additionally, Mike swung the shield so that it struck one of the legs, and the green-skinned extremity was again powerfully repelled—like a magnet slamming against a larger one of the opposite polarity. A sudden burst of light from the shield upended the creature. IT instantly recoiled and was airborne. IT clutched itself and writhed in the air, like a high-diving champion performing a “double twist.” IT landed on the ground hard in unceremonious and undignified agony. IT rolled and roared ITs protest, ending up in a smoking, wounded heap. Sparks were still erupting between ITs legs where Mike’s sword had done ITs damage.
“No little green-skinned uglies in your future!” Mike’s repartee was delivered calmly and smugly. He advanced on the huge, loathsome troll. Mike held his sword aloft as he slowly and cautiously walked toward the repulsive beast lying on the ground. He stopped just out of ITs colossal arm’s reach.
“Will you capitulate? Who has the truth here? Exactly where is the power?”
“I WILL DIE FIRST!” croaked the wretched creature. The voice was a raw groan, barely comprehensible.
“So it shall be,” announced a fearless Michael Thomas, ignoring the increasing stench of the wounded beast.
The smelly creature was not through yet. IT was not a spiritual being. IT was, like Mike, a biological entity in this strange land of colored angels and lightning swords. IT hurt and IT bled. Mike could see the grievous wound that had been inflicted by his magic sword in the last foray, and he winced at the sight. A black, sticky substance gushed from the nasty wound, staining the already ugly and diseased-looking skin, turning the giant’s legs black. Mike thought that the creature must be in incredible pain, but it was getting up again!When IT stood upright, it swayed slightly. ITs eyes appeared as narrow slits now, the light that surrounded IT almost too bright to bear. Mike knew that he had won.
Killing wasn’t in Mike’s repertoire. He had never killed anyone or anything on purpose—even on the farm he had refused to kill the chickens. But he knew that any killing here was symbolic, and the detestable thing before him was not actually going to die. It would just be ultimately and painfully defeated.
The scene of the two battling entities was classic. The light from the previous pyrotechnic blows still seemed to linger from the glowing sword, shield, and armor. Sparks continued to snap and pop from different parts of ITs smoking body as IT righted itself in preparation for a final attack. Now, Mike’s armor was also starting to sing a victorious song. The highly outlined hard shadows created from the light of truth, knowledge, and wisdom revealed the dismal, stark sight of a huge, wounded, swaying, vile creature about to desperately sacrifice itself to the power of Mike’s small weapon. It was David and Goliath, and the vision was surreal against the walls of the narrow canyon of no escape. The two unequally matched warriors stood barely 30 feet apart, each stubbornly standing his ground. It was again Mike who moved first.
Mike was far too swift for the wounded behemoth. He focused on ITs most vulnerable areas, and before the immense beast could react, was again allowing the searing light from his sword and the reverse polarity of the marvelous shield to do their work. In a desperate, mindless attempt to stave off ITs attacker, the creature began to flail ITs arms wildly. In so doing, the creature did even more damage to itself against the invincible spiritual weapons of light, truth, and knowledge. The spectacle was something to behold. Not only was there a light show of incredible proportions, but the sounds were thrilling! The spiritual battle weapons lifted their combined voices in a loud, harmonious song of victory. Orange had never mentioned that the weapons all sang!
The final skirmish was over in less than a minute. The energy discharged from the sword and shield quickly defeated the leviathan. ITs entire nauseating length was stretched out before Mike like some kind of quivering, rotting mound of putrid flesh. The stench of ITs blood gushing from numerous wounds assaulted Mike’s nostrils. Suddenly, Mike’s battle weapons ceased their singing, and the smoldering, green-skinned thing on the ground began to lose substance.
“I’m not gone, Michael Thomas. There will be another day,” it groaned as it began to fade away.
“I know,” Mike said, as he looked into the red eyes of the revolting titan. He knew the death of the evil creature was symbolic. But he also knew that the battle was extremely real. He shuddered to think that the outcome might have been reversed. Michael could have been the injured, dying one. He might have been the one fading into obscurity were it not for his spiritual weapons.
He was glad it was over. Mike slowly sheathed his wonderful sword of truth, but not before thanking it out loud. He did the same for his shield, as he returned it to the hook on the back of his armor. He hugged his armor and celebrated how well it had worked. Then, it happened!
Mike felt the three gifts start to leave.Theywere vanishing as the beast had done.
“NO!” he cried. “I need you! Please!”
But Michael Thomas’s weapons were being absorbed into his biology. A meld was taking place that was only possible due to the intent of his own ceremony and because of the victory the weapons had just facilitated. Mike was startled. He cried out for an explanation.
“What now? Why are they leaving?”
“Michael Thomas of Pure Intent
, your marvelous gifts are still there, but now you carry them inside!” It was the soothing voice of Orange. It was Orange who had bestowed the gifts in the first place. The angel continued, “You have earned the right to assimilate them. They are now part of you, Michael Thomas, and will reside within your very cells.”
Mike sat down on a nearby rock. “And the next battle...?” Mike inquired of Orange.
“...will be won the same way, Michael, but without the tangible appearance of the weapons. Truth lives within you now, as well as the power of knowledge and wisdom. There is no beast that can ever take them away.”
Mike considered Orange’s words, then he invoked another angel. “Green, have I shifted again?”
“Yes, Michael. Absorbing the gifts has made you complete. There is only one more of us for you to meet.” It was comforting to hear Green’s voice again.
“Who will it be?” Michael didn’t want to wait until the next house.
“The grandest angel of them all, Michael. You shall see,” Green replied.
Michael stood up. He felt strange. Everything had happened so quickly—meeting the creature disguised as his father, realizing that he would have to fight an actual battle, defeating the monster, and now the seeming removal of the gifts he had grown so used to. He sat back down and began to go over the events of the past 20 minutes.
“White, who was the beast, really?” Mike asked White, since he intuitively felt that White’s answer would be the most enlightening. He was not disappointed.
“It was the part of you without love, Michael. It was the human part that is always present and that must always be dealt with. If left unchecked, humanity without love actually creates darkness.” White’s voice was amazing, and it instantly put Mike at ease.
“Will it come again, White?”
“As long as you are human, it is in the background, ready to pounce,” replied White. “But love will keep it weak!”
Mike was introspective. I have but one more lesson here, he thought, and then I can shed my human form. Mike was anxious to open the door to home. That magic door was his ultimate goal. He thought about what it would mean: a peaceful, loving existence—an existence with spiritual purpose. Mike was suddenly aware that the weather had cleared completely. In the warm sunlight, he looked around the battle scene. He could see the scorch marks where his powerful weapons had defeated the enemy. He touched his waist where his sword belt had been and touched his chest where he had worn the armor. He missed it, but he knew that what the angels had said was true. He didn’t feel any different, or any lighter. He now carried the power inside, and it made Michael a mighty warrior of love indeed—just as Mary had been in the hospital. He smiled when he thought of her strength and thanked her mentally for the vision. Then Mike felt his chest again and realized the map was gone, too!
“The map!” Mike spoke out loud. He was disappointed.
“It’s inside you, also, Michael.” It was Blue again. “Your intuition will be every bit as valuable.”
Mike felt naked. But it’s okay, he thought. I won’t be human long. I won’t need these gifts when I pass into heaven and go home. Only one more house!
It didn’t take long to walk out of the canyon, but there was a grand vision awaiting Michael Thomas as he drew close to the end of its craggy outline. As the end of the narrow ravine came into view, he could see a more serene landscape awaiting him in the distance. Mike also beheld a glorious rainbow arching over the ravine. It glowed brightly against the increasingly clear blue sky of the magic land; it marked the end of the canyon and symbolized the end of his journey. He moved forward, transfixed by the rainbow’s majesty, only occasionally glancing down to see where he was walking.
Then, Mike realized what had created the rainbow. Six enormous friends ablaze with color were there in the sky before him. They were so grand—so proud!—all holding hands and forming a rainbow of celebration for the human they called Michael Thomas of Pure Intent. He passed beneath them, emotionally calling their color names and thanking each one. There was Blue who had given him his map and the direction of his journey; Orange, giver of the wonderful gifts that had slain the giant; Green, his comedic friend, who had explained biology, stomped on his toe, and had given him the experience of his first vibratory shift; Violet, the maternal one, who had exposed the lessons of his life, and revealed the responsibility he had for it all; Red, the horrible eater, and marvelous introducer of his spirit family; and the loving White, the essence of purity, from whom Mike had learned of real love by watching a pure woman of incredible strength, and where he had also felt the heartbreak of his own missed opportunity. Mike knew it was their way of celebrating his victory, for the next house was the last one, and he would no longer need them in this land. His training was almost over. He had learned well and had passed a great test, conquering the beast on his own. He knew that they were saying good-bye.
“I honor you, my friends!” Mike called to them. And he watched the glorious colors slowly fade, revealing a totally blue sky once again.
MIKE DID NOT have to travel very far before the next cottage came into view, but this one was different. It was no cottage. It was an enormous mansion! As he approached it, Mike not only saw its size was unusual, but he realized that what he first thought might be a brown house, slowly revealed itself as the House of Gold!
As Mike got closer and closer to the house, his perception of its size continued to change. What had appeared to be a single-story large structure slowly became a multistory gargantuan edifice of enormous proportions. And it wasn’t just gold in color, but it actually seemed to be made of gold!
A huge, well-kept green lawn set off the building in a grand style, and many rich-looking fountains and streams surrounded it, all gurgling and splashing in a splendid manner. Everything was offset with gorgeous flowers of almost every kind conceivable, arranged in groups of colors that were breathtaking! Mike saw something else that momentarily took away his breath. The path ended at the entrance to the house. The final goal must indeed be inside! This wasn’t just a house, it was also a portal—an entrance into heaven itself. It was the door to home!
Mike realized that he was anxious, breathing rather hard, as he cautiously turned from the main path and traveled up the long, winding footpath to the door of the great golden palace. Finally, he approached the large ornate door made entirely of gold. He wondered how he would ever open it, since it must be heavy indeed! He stooped down and removed his shoes, placing them in the obvious area made for them and waited. He knew he would never see them again.
No angel came.
He wondered about the appropriateness of trying to open the massive door and stepping inside, then remembered that this had happened before in the sixth house, where White could not venture out of the house into the yard. Mike made his decision. He pulled on the great golden door. It was far too large and tall for any practical use, but Mike felt it easily swing open!
He stepped inside and stood in absolute amazement. Everything was gold! The walls, pillars, and floors. Grand décor everywhere! It was breathtaking! There was the smell again—flowers! The fragrance of a thousand lilacs burst on his nostrils, filling him with a wonderful feeling of love. It was truly an amazing, sacred place.
Then, Mike understood the joke immediately. While the other houses in this great land had appeared small on the outside and huge on the inside, this one was huge on the outside, but the inside, although grand indeed, was restricted. There was no labyrinth of room after room as in the others houses. Instead, all doors and hallways led to one place. There were no choices as to where to turn, and there was only one direction to go. The path through the house was simple. Elegant, grand, glorious, and exquisite—but simple. There were no ancillary rooms, no living quarters for Mike. Nothing looked as it had in the other houses. There was also another feeling here. Mike was trying to locate in his mind what the feeling was as he slowly made his way through the few hallways to wherever they were leading him. Yes. He re
membered. It was the feeling he had when he entered a great worship hall. He felt a reverence for it. It had majesty, as if he were in a sacred sanctuary.
Mike didn’t know what to expect. There still was no angel. This was a first—the only time he had ever entered a house without being greeted. After his great battle and all the excitement, Mike should have been hungry, but he wasn’t. He was too excited.
He continued forward until he reached a door that looked somehow different. It had a name etched on it. The writing was that same strange Arabic-looking script that he had seen on the labels in the House of Maps, then he had seen it again in Violet’s charts. He knew it must be the name of the golden angel, wherever it was. Mike opened the door and went in.
What greeted Michael Thomas was never to be forgotten. He stood in a grand chamber of majestic beauty. It was a great hall of worship, or so it seemed. It was cathedral-like, with finely crafted, multicolored glass windows lining the walls. At each glorious window, the outside light was converted into rainbows that spilled onto the immense golden floor in pools of undulating color. As he cast his gaze upward, he could see into a golden area that had no end. The walls of the room were circular, and Mike could see that the door he had come through was the only entrance to the chamber. There was a golden fog that gently swirled around the room, giving the scene a feeling of being a pond in the early morning, when everything is fresh. The fog interacted with the light in an astoundingly gorgeous way. Each time the fog swirled into the rainbow pools of light, a burst of brilliant color would be absorbed into the fog, turning the moist air into a gossamer rainbow, painting the area with the hues of the entire color spectrum. Mike realized that he was holding his breath and forced himself to breathe.