Janine was looking at him intently, her eyes flashing assorted messages: awe; disbelief, dread and admiration. Mark continued.
“I thought it would take a lot to convince you. You do believe me, don’t you?”
Janine nestled even closer to him.
“I was even given a guide for this journey, a spirit. Maybe that’s not quite right. Zachri said he’s always been a part of my spirit. I never even believed in such entities until I met Zachri but he has such wisdom and power and more compassion than I’ve ever felt… Well, more, that is, than I had ever felt before I met you, my love. He knew so much about me and about you too! Did he visit you, also?”
“No, he must be exclusively your angel. I believe that you believe your encounters were real but the e-mails I’ve been receiving from Martin told a far different story.
“He wrote that you have remained comatose with not one reflexive action to imply awareness of your surroundings. What you’re saying is that, though physically incapacitated, in some way you were mysteriously active. Amazing! You couldn’t make up a story like this. Anyway, I know you wouldn’t lie.
“I want to know everything you went through! Your travels; what you discovered, what it all seems to mean and lots of detail about the future you saw for us!”
“I think I’ve changed.”
Seeing Janie’s look of alarm, Mark added:
“For the better; maybe a little less selfish, more capable of the Corinthians’ version of loving or at least of protecting, trusting, and hoping. As for the future, some of what I’ve seen of its living conditions is not so good; actually it’s terrifying. But I was shown a way to make it easier for u…” Mark stopped himself from saying ‘us’ just in time and changed it to “for you.”
“Terrifying? You’re scaring me.”
“Janie, I’d rather describe the best of times—our romantic interlude. Okay?”
“Please. That would be a story with a happy ending.”
Mark told her almost in a whisper, “We traveled to a seaside paradise and made love listening to the sea…”
“I had that dream! Was it as incredible an experience as I imagined?” Janine asked laughingly but with her mouth agape and her eyebrows at least a half inch higher than their usual position.
“Darling Janie, if I tell you the perfection we discovered there by the sea, could you possibly believe me? Or would you write it off as the hallucinations of a man surrendered to love?”
“Um, I don’t know how to answer that. It seems highly subjective but a perception worthy of study. Maybe I’m the one hallucinating, yet I feel your hand in mine. If you place your lips over mine, I will be sure…”
As their lips touched, Janine felt herself falling—or was it the world and all its cares falling away, leaving them in a thrilling vacuum and so closely bound that whatever she experienced would be echoed with equal or greater intensity within him? They were the heirs of passion and fulfillment. Nothing could have merited such gifts. Their triumph was not the selfish act of lust. Her focus was entirely on him and his on her.
They had become one: one hand; one heart, one hope. As the passion faded, it was replaced by blissful peace. Peace like that of a river on a windless summer day. Peace such as that which descends after the storm is over. The peace that follows when problems are finally resolved. It was a time reserved for harmony.
***
The shrill ringing of the telephone shattered the luxurious tranquility of the hours before dawn. Janine reached for the phone on her bedside stand.
Martin’s voice on the other end was barely audible as he choked out the words: “He’s gone.”
Mark’s heart had stopped—an outcome his doctors had feared but had refrained from voicing to his family.
***
No one on the earthly side of the veil could see what was taking place but everyone on the other side had a ringside seat at the transformation.
At Mark’s side in the hospital room, the same Zachri who had appeared to Mark to be a medium-sized middle-aged average male, neither Hollywood handsome nor physically repulsive, was now a spiritual vision like nothing Mark had ever seen, even in artist’s renditions of angels.
His form flickered. Zachri, the spirit, was not bound by edges, as a human body is, but neither was it a formless blob.
Words came tumbling out of Mark; ‘exalted’, ‘glorious’, ‘terrifying’, ‘stunning’ but English words now comingled with an unlimited supply of new ones in languages of other nationalities, worlds and life forms.
Zachri’s appearance now seemed much less important to Mark than what arose from him: colors that could never be recreated from earthly gradations, even though tiny shards might be scattered throughout earthly landscapes. Emotions so perfectly loving that a human would exchange the whole world for their blessing. Sounds that beckoned a human soul to open and absorb, setting aside every defense, every desire for self-preservation in response to their call.
Zachri reached out to Mark and, as he responded, Mark saw his own useless physical body give way to a new form, almost a mirror image of Zachri’s.
“I’m so sorry I doubted your reality, Zachri. If I could only have seen you as you are….”
“Have no fear. We who are Spirit guides have to appear in familiar and recognizable forms until you are convinced that we are real. When a heart is ready our true bodies become visible. Your time has come.”
“I go willingly. You have shown me my accomplishments and my mistakes and unveiled the way of true love. The choice I’ve made is the only adequate expression of that love. Janie will seek and find pieces of me in many places. I know now that she is the one, not me, who can use the lessons of my life to triumph in a world gone amok. She will need so much more than I could give if I were to have remained physically at her side.
You have shown me that I am not abandoning her by going. She will feel my love even more intensely than when I made love to her—but only as she accepts the change in me.”
***
An earthbound person, if given some way to witness this exchange, would have seen the two spirits rise, bathed in a flash of beauty and light, although the best part would still remain out of view – the joyous moment of arrival and the glorious reception awaiting those spirits.
34
EVER AFTER
Shaking herself awake as Martin’s words echoed in her mind, Janine screamed only one word, “No!” before collapsing.
The funeral was a formal naval affair, an official ceremony in a faraway place and burial at sea. Janine had no money for the trip and, as a civilian not married to the deceased, would not have been given access anyway. She could not even say goodbye.
The last meeting, that vivid dream that had felt more real to her than even her own bodily functions, had seemed so clearly to be a new beginning, not the last scene of their love story.
Now her world was a place of uncontrollable pain. Few people understood; after all, they had only been lovers for a few months. Janine could tell this was in the minds of most of her family and friends. Presenting a stoic face to the world was impossible. She wept at inconvenient moments, embarrassing herself and startling those around her but it was a reflexive action. She hadn’t been prepared for Mark to die. She couldn’t will the pain away or stuff it deep inside.
How could he be gone? Full recovery had been expected, prayed for, seemingly confirmed as imminent. Frantically trying to hold on to him, Janine went through all the e-mails, photos and his last voice-mail messages. He was so present—so very much alive—in all of them. Where could he be now? Why couldn’t she locate him? Surely the man she loved couldn’t be so totally in her life one moment and completely erased the next! The shock was beyond comprehension.
Janine searched ceaselessly for Mark, for any sign of his having been there. A few messages from Martin expressed his own pain. He tried to tell Janine how difficult it was to share memories of a father he still desperately needed with someone who had barely en
tered his own world.
Martin chose to sever the tenuous connection, thus stripping Janine of even those glimpses of the father visible in his son. Days and weeks passed, with her grief only ever being suspended during a few hours of restless sleep.
A brief reprieve came with a visit from her grandchildren and with it, a startling occurrence. The children had been piled into bed with their grandma until the younger one was pushed out by his sister. With grandma’s arm encircling the remaining child, sleep was about to enfold them both when, suddenly, Mark was there, talking to Janine, radiating a curious mixture of intensity and industry. Her excitement and relief at seeing him was so overwhelming that her words tumbled out.
“Mark, you’re back! Thank God! I’ve been looking everywhere for you. I was even trying to force open the doors of heaven. Well, at least trying to envision the living conditions if you were there. When I couldn’t find you, I didn’t know what to do. I wasn’t sure I could survive but I won’t have to deal with that, now that you’re back in my life.”
Mark’s voice was infinitely tender as he responded.
“My love, I can’t stay long but I need to talk with you about a few things, especially about heaven. Heaven is not what most people imagine. It is, among other things, a place where people who have crossed over can team up with angelic spirits to disrupt evil influences. These teams influence changes on Earth, but only if their help is sought.
“If you ask for help and listen for our response we can show you ways to mitigate the impact of evil. I couldn’t let you or Martin live in a world where injustice is unbounded.
Janine’s heart was sinking just as fast as it had soared.
“How do you know and why are you telling me this? Aren’t you going to be with me?”
“Yes, Janine. I am on your team and will always be there for you. I love you with a love that will never die. Never doubt that! Your prayers for my healing were answered.
“The spiritual journeys which I mentioned to you, during that train ride, were my awakening. Once I had accepted responsibility for what I had caused, I could let go of my guilt. I was restored but not in the way we both expected.”
Mark paused for a moment while Janine absorbed that statement and then went on.
“The healing that took place in my spirit allowed me to choose my destiny. I chose the way of love.”
Hand in hand they wandered down a spongy path lined with bushes that bloomed with roses, lilacs, and daphne. Janine was aware of a warm breeze on her bare skin as they talked about things practical and romantic.
This walk was similar to the one they had taken together along the Detroit riverfront only a few weeks earlier, except that now the surroundings were more beautiful and Mark was more robust.
Everything he brought up was so typical of the man Janine had learned to love: his concern for her well-being; wanting to be sure she would be all right emotionally, financially, even sexually.
She assured Mark that she would do her best to make good decisions—for his sake.
Her pledge to use her free time and excess energy on projects aimed at reversing social injustices and especially those that would interest Mark, seemed to make him very happy. Then Mark turned to go, uttering his parting words.
“If you are attentive, you will never have to go far to find signs of my presence. Look for me.”
That sweet, blessed smile of his spread over Mark’s face and the refracted light passed through the cosmos, lighting up her world for a few seconds.
With a sudden jolt, comprehension dimmed that light. When she awoke, crying, Janine knew that Mark had been with her, crossing the veil between their worlds to have a final conversation.
She even remembered asking him if he would have the planned surgery, now that he was back. She had withdrawn the question after it dawned on her that he would no longer need any type of medical care. He was through with that body.
EPILOGUE: FINDING THE PIECES
Over the next few years, Janine gradually became more comfortable with miracles. She credited every one of them to Mark’s love and intervention, having no problem in reconciling this with her religious faith since she saw Mark as now existing under the dominion of their Maker.
Many people questioned her confidence in the existence of this supernatural sponsor, suggesting that it had just been time for her to have some good luck anyway, but those people didn’t know what she knew. Her life was changed in extraordinary ways, ways she could not have suggested or even imagined.
This is not to imply that Mark’s death was all right with Janine! He was her ideal-- the only man who had inspired in her the belief that she could do and become all she had ever dreamed. Mark was a man bursting with charm, intelligence, and compassion. He was also a romantic lover and an extraordinary communicator. Losing him was, undeniably, one of the great tragedies of her life.
He lived in her thoughts each day, although the intensity of her grief gradually lessened and the routine episodes of uncontrolled weeping eventually ceased; the need to find fragments of his life—someone who could talk to her about him; some object that he had touched or that defined him—passed, too, but for a different reason. She sometimes glimpsed his presence.
At first she could not find what she was looking for—pieces of Mark in some recognizable form—though she searched incessantly. She read about people being visited by deceased loved ones, sometimes seeing a physical form, sometimes hearing a beloved voice or smelling a particular fragrance but, as she read of visions and encounters with the supernatural, she began to recognize how very little she knew about the spiritual world and its links to ours.
A new impression gradually took shape: she would find Mark’s ‘signature’ imprinted on every remarkable event and triumph of her life. A strange notion accompanied this impression—whether it was intuition or imagination is impossible to say. Even as earthquakes occur when two blocks of the earth suddenly slip past one another on a fault plane, so do tiny shifts in the earth’s atmospheric layers allow beings from another universe(s) to pass through. But those passageways, unlike the conditions that result in earthquakes, require invitations for entry.
If acute desire would admit an otherworldly Mark, he was there, surely, and using his now complete knowledge of Truth to disrupt, maybe even to illuminate, Janine’s thinking. Small, regular miracles attested to the probability of their partnership.
Recently, Janine returned to the town of her youth, but not alone. Mark was there. Even if not in a supernatural sense, he is a significant part of who she has become.
As Bernard Stevens said, in the series ‘Northern Exposure’, after returning from Africa: “In a sense, it is the coming back, the return, which gives meaning to the going forth. We really don’t know where we’ve been until we come back to where we were—only where we were may not be as it was, because of who we’ve become, which, after all, is why we left.”
Since Mark died, Janine is compelled to seek answers to questions she had never articulated. What has become of Mark? Did he have a choice whether to stay or pass on? What do people do in heaven? Do the spirits of the deceased visit us? Serve us? Does love—human love—live on, even if we love again?
Janine began to document some of her findings, the writing made easier by the security of being home—taking her place among family, caring companions and stimulating colleagues.
Janine had found her abiding purpose—to define and deliver justice, using the lessons of one who had served and killed in war; one who had submitted to the demands of others and, through justifying his actions, set a course for destruction; a man who had gone from following for personal gain to leading by serving, even rendering loving service to those who had caused him harm.
Her valiant hero, when faced with his flaws, allowed shame and sorrow to transform him into the devoted lover whose only possible choice was the way of love—whatever the cost. Her hero was no longer her earthly lover but he would always be her spiritual traveling companio
n and cherished guide.
This knowledge was strengthened even further, years later, when Janine sat dozing in her sunlit garden after lunch one day and distinctly heard Mark’s voice, that beloved sound which had remained silent for years:
“Janine, I’d like to introduce you to Zachri, my guide and companion. From now on, he will be yours too.”
She knew instantly what this meant. She had been thinking lately that she needed far more help than was available from her local partners to tackle as many as possible of the injustices that were escalating around the world. She had become exhausted and over-stretched. The introduction assured her that her own dear Mark, with Zachri and the rest of their supernatural team, would be there to help her from then on.
Suddenly, Janine was looking forward to her future with enthusiasm and energy once again, knowing that Mark would always be a part of her universe.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
BIBLIOGRAPHY (In the order referenced in the text)
1. Greene, Graham. (1967) May We Borrow Your Husband and Other Comedies of the Sexual Life. Viking Books.
2. A similar experience is recorded on p. 27 in Conversations with the Voiceless by John Wessells. (2004) Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan Pub.
3. Job 33: 23-26. The Holy Bible New International Version. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan Pub.
4. Downs, F. (1978). The Killing Zone: My Life in the Vietnam War. New York: W.W. Norton & Co. (Preface and p. 263)
5. Micah 6:2. The Holy Bible New International Version. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan Pub.
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