by V. M. Franck
Harvest time arrived and with it a wave of intense heat. Everyone one had been irritable for weeks, even her normally patient father. It left Ruth feeling annoyed.
On a clear night the moon was full. The family had taken to the roof for more restful sleeping. Needing to be alone Ruth remained inside, though the interior of the usually comfortable home was stifling.
In her aloneness came ideas she could get nowhere else, ideas that set her to designing her life, thoughts different from those of her sisters. Mother said it was good to be different, that God gave every person talents and callings accordingly. Night after night since she was five, when she first awoke to see ghosted-beings standing at the foot of her sleeping mat, Ruth had been waiting for instructions from God that would outline the purpose of her life. So far she had seen the beings repeatedly, but received no instructions. Every aspect of her life was on hold, waiting for God.
"Hurry up, God," she often whispered. But God would not be hurried.
The sleeping room she usually shared with Mary Martha was oppressive. Hour after hour, she waited, growing impatient and restless. Disappointed when God did not show up, she finally managed to sleep. Dreams of curious-looking carriages and people with light skin, wearing odd garments danced through her dreams. She was immersed in fascination with these unusual scenes, when the light of a half moon shone through the high window and onto her face, waking her. In the dusky light, shadowed by muted shades of grey stood a man with long golden hair, the bluest eyes and clothes of radiant white. Seeming to have no substance, appearing not quite real, he exuded an aura of supreme goodness.
Mesmerized, as she always was when the beings showed up, her heart throbbing, afraid to make a sound, she watched him, wondering what kind of being he was. Her mother talked of the ones who appeared to her--angels, elohim and all kinds of others, including the one who appeared right before Yeshua was born, the one who outlined her mission.
"As your mother was called, so are you," the being said, his voice flowing through the velvet night.
He's talking to me. He's actually talking to me.
"Forever back through the ages," he said, "there has waxed a darkness upon the land, upon humans, upon all within this realm, smothering beauty and positive possibilities. Over and over the same beings have viewed perfection, only to opt for easier paths, refusing to learn, damaging themselves and others, miring in futile redundancy, ad infinitum through space and time. The only hope to elevate this continual misappropriation of energy is the application of love and light from good and perfect hearts."
Ruth was astounded; the moment felt like a prayer.
"Love is the relayer of light. Light is the relayer of love," he said. "There is naught else but light and love, and journeys to and from them. All circles back on itself into the One. Thus is the journey into learning, the journey to become all we are capable of, individually and collectively. It is so day to day, hour to hour, minute to minute until illusions cease."
All I am capable of.
"Ruth, daughter of Mary and Joseph, yours is such a heart. As with your mother, yours is the gift of love. As with your father, yours is the gift of discernment. Within you is a marriage of the two, as with your eldest brother. These gifts continue into a distant future."
Her mind jumped to the dream with its unusual carriages and strangely dressed people.
"Ruth, will you use your gifts to help others? Will you foster freedom in those who sorely need it? Will you join the Circle--for eternity unbounded?"
Barely able to croak out a response, Ruth said, "What circle?"
He opened his hand to her. In his palm lay a white rose.
"Of the White Rose."
"Yes, oh, yes," she said. "What would you have me do?"
"You will know when it is time." He placed the blossom in her hand and disappeared with the words, "So be it."
Chapter 5