by Wid Bastian
“We called the Georgetown EMTs, Peter,” Gail explained. “They are en route, but I’m afraid there isn’t anything they can do. Listen to me. I know dead when I see it. This man has been gone for a while, at least half an hour. I’m very sorry.”
Peter closed his eyes, but said nothing at first. He tried to empty his mind, to rid himself of any conscious thoughts. He was preparing his spirit and his body to become a pure conduit for God’s Uncreated Energy.
“Everyone, please, give us some room here.” That Peter, and not the warden, was barking orders struck no one in the dorm as odd other than Kenny.
“Peter, what are you going to do?” Gail asked this question so that she might offer some assistance to her friend, not to try and restrain an inmate.
“Clear the dorm, Warden. No one should be in here except you, me, Malik, Saul, and Kenny. Please, do it now.”
Without hesitation Warden McCorkle did as she was asked. By the time everyone had been removed, they could hear the approaching ambulance’s siren wailing in the distance.
As Peter knelt over Lawrence Coleman and began to pray, a strange sensation was felt by all present. Later Gail McCorkle described it as “a surge, an energy pulse passing through my body.”
Everyone blessed to be present in dorm number one that afternoon also saw the same thing. A white light, more of a “glow” according to the witnesses, surrounded Peter Carson as he began to minister to Larry.
Peter’s prayers were silent for a couple of minutes. Then he spoke. “My friends, do you believe that Christ is the resurrection and the life, and that he who believes in Him though he may die, he shall live?”
On one accord they all answered “yes.” Kenny recognized the close parallel between Peter’s question and Christ’s words as recorded in the eleventh chapter of Luke. Fitting, he thought, since in that passage Lazarus is raised. Was Peter Carson about to do what only Christ, His Apostles, and a few saints have been able to do? Restore life to the dead?
Despite the miracles that each of the witnesses had already seen and experienced, bringing back the dead seemed extreme, perhaps impossible. Yet they did believe, using the measure of faith God had given them, a measure that was being increased by the second.
The white glow that had formed around Peter suddenly extended itself from his person upward, opening a hole in the roof with its brilliance. As it did, a sound erupted like a hundred cathedral bells, all being rung simultaneously. It was both stunning and deafening, like being hit directly by a thunder clap. No one could remain standing, the witnesses all dropped to their knees. The Power was so intense it enveloped the small group, temporarily rendering each of them unable to speak or move. That they could still hear and see what was happening was one of the greatest gifts God could ever give them.
Then Peter began to speak again, but now with an authority and eloquence beyond his human capabilities.
“Lord, I know that you always hear me, but because of the people who are standing by, I say thank you Father, thank you for loving us, protecting us, and allowing us always to be Your servants.
“Lawrence, get up.”
As placidly as if he was waking from a casual afternoon nap Larry Coleman sat up, stretched out his arms and yawned. He seemed oblivious to the fact that he had been dead. While saying nothing at first, the look on his face was telling enough; without a doubt he had no idea why all these people were on their knees surrounding him.
The white glow now began to dissipate, melting away first from around Peter and then moving upward. When it reached the ceiling, the “hole” in the roof disappeared and a sound like two giant steel doors slamming shut reverberated throughout the dorm.
When the Power was completely gone, Peter collapsed. Gail and Saul rushed to his side. Quickly they determined that Peter was breathing regularly and that both his pulse and his color were normal. Peter was simply asleep and would remain so for almost the next twenty-four hours.
“He is exhausted, nothing more. Saul, why don’t you and Malik take him to his bed? Do not be afraid, all is well. Panos has been touched in a way few men ever have, by the very essence of the living God. In a short time he will recover.”
Coming up from behind them, the Georgetown EMT crew had finally arrived. The one speaking was a white man, about thirty or so, with light brown, curly hair.
The other two EMTs stood by and looked at each other as if they had been listening to gibberish. They had no idea who this mystery medic was or what he was doing there. This mattered not, because a second later, after Gabriel passed his hand over them and spoke a few words in Aramaic, they had forgotten all of the events of the past fifteen minutes and busied themselves attending to a still quite confused Larry Coleman.
“They won’t remember a thing, will they Gabriel?” Saul asked, already knowing the answer.
“No, Saul, they will not. It is not time yet for the world to know.”
“When will it be, Gabriel? I mean, I’m not tryin’ to speedball the Lord or nothin’, but it don’t seem like we’re doin’ a whole lotta good for Him stuck here in this play pen. If the Good Lord will pardon me for axin’.” Malik was only verbalizing what everyone else was also thinking.
“Kenneth, what does it say in Ecclesiastes, chapter eight verses five and six?” Gabriel asked.
“You mean specifically about Malik’s question?”
“Yes.”
“Let me see. Okay, I think I get it. ‘A wise man’s heart discerns both time and judgment, because for every matter there is a time and judgment.’”
“Exactly. That is your answer. Trust in the Lord. Watch and pray. He will never leave you or forsake you.”
Having done what he came to do, the angel of the Lord then turned and began to walk away.
“Wait!” Gail shouted. She had been patiently watching with both fascination and awe, but now she was desperate to speak with Gabriel.
“Gail McCorkle, dear and faithful woman. You want to ask something of me?”
“Yes sir, I mean Gabriel. Forgive me, I … ”
“I cannot forgive anyone. Remember, it is men who will judge the angels.”
“I’m sorry. Oh my. Second time in my life I’ve been tongue tied,” Gail admitted, doing her best to gather her thoughts in a storm of emotion. “I need to say thank you, Gabriel. Thank you for helping Carrie.”
“Dear woman, I go where I am needed and do as I am commanded. Your niece is very special, she has many gifts. It’s God you should thank, not his messenger.”
“I did that.”
“I know.”
“Gabriel, I’m not sure what to do anymore. Do I set these men free? I mean, I feel like such a bad person keeping them in prison. Peter says he’ll tell me when it’s time to act, and God knows how much I love and trust that man. I just, just tell me Gabriel, am I doing right? Is God pleased with me?”
“Are you doing what Peter asks, always and without question?”
“Always.”
“Then God is pleased. There will come a time, dear woman, when God will ask you to do much more. Are you ready to serve?”
“Yes, Gabriel. I am ready.”
“I believe that you are. Ask Kenneth what Christ said in the book of John, fifteenth chapter, thirteenth verse. Be ready for that, Gail McCorkle, and God will be pleased.”
For a second Gail turned her head to try and get Kenny’s attention, but seeing that he was still attending to Larry she switched back to Gabriel.
But Gabriel was gone.
The two Georgetown EMTs finished checking out Lawrence Coleman who they pronounced to be in perfect health. They left wondering why they were called.
A few minutes later, once the situation had sufficiently settled down, Gail took Kenny aside.
“Mr. Simpson, would you please tell me what it says in the book of John, fifteenth chapter, thirteenth verse?”
“Hmm,” Kenny mumbled, not sure how he should respond. “Why, if I may ask, ma’am, do you want to know that p
articular verse?”
“Gabriel said it would tell me what to do, what I need to do to please God and protect Peter.”
Kenny Simpson had been a prisoner of the United States for less than twelve hours. In that time he’d witnessed things many prophets and saints had yearned to, or feared, but had never seen. Head spinning stuff, both fantastic and inspiring. That he was unsure of himself at the moment was understandable.
Now his jailor, who treated him more like a brother, was asking him a very delicate question. His first instinct was to put her off and talk to Peter about it when he woke up.
“Maybe we should wait on that one, Warden, until … ”
“Mr. Simpson, you tell me what that verse says this very instant!” This was an order, not a suggestion.
“Yes ma’am. It says, ‘Greater love has no one than this, than to lay down one’s life for his friends.’”
The first word Peter spoke when he awoke was “no.” While he was asleep, God ministered to his spirit with lucid dreams. He desperately wanted to stay in that world. Compared to where he’d been, the earth was hell.
“That’s a fine way to say good afternoon to your warden, Mr. Carson,” Gail said, a broad smile beaming across her face. “But I can relate. If I were waking up after what you’d been through, the last thing I would want to see is my old, ugly mug.”
Actually, seeing Gail McCorkle was marvelous. Nothing could be better if I have to be stuck in this world, Peter thought to himself. He managed a smile that rivaled hers.
“Larry, is he okay?” Peter asked.
“Fit as a fiddle. He’s an interesting one, that Coleman. Quiet as a mouse. Ought to hang a sign around his neck saying, ‘Beware: Extreme Humility Present.’ Know what else?”
“What?”
“The man is innocent. I don’t mean innocent by the Blood, servant of Christ innocent, I mean literally not guilty. The poor guy was railroaded.”
“That so. How’d you find out so fast?”
“We wardens, you know, have this clandestine network. Every other Wednesday a few of us secretly get together to decide the fate of prisoners everywhere.”
“And they call me crazy.”
“An old friend of mine is tight with Coleman’s attorney up in Maryland. One phone call later and I get the lecture of my life from this guy swearing that if I let anything happen to that “sweet, gentle man” before he can spring him on appeal he would, well, let’s just say non-voluntarily rearrange my anatomy.”
“In other words, kick your butt.”
“Basically.”
“Can’t wait to meet him, let me get up and … ” Peter’s head felt like it was filled with wet cement, and he was certain that two guys with paddles were whacking his skull enthusiastically. Gingerly, he laid back down.
“What’s it going to take for you to slow down, Mr. Carson?” Gail asked, placing some aspirin in Peter’s hand. “The world can wait a few minutes while you get your bearings back.”
“Guess you’re right, my head … ”
“Feels like you’ve been kicked by a mule, I’ll bet.”
“Something like that.”
Gail McCorkle was looking at Peter differently now. He could sense the change. Their relationship had rapidly evolved from jailer-prisoner to spiritual siblings and now, Peter perceived, to something more.
“Gail, if you don’t quit doting over me people will talk.”
“And what would they say, Mr. Carson?”
“That the Warden is in love with one of her inmates.”
“So? You know that I love you. Don’t get nervous now, it’s not a physical love. Although you are a little stud muffin, got to admit that. What I feel for you is far more real and permanent. You are a very special man, Peter, perhaps the most special man to grace our little globe in a couple of thousand years.”
“Gail, please. Stop that kind of talk right now. I am only a vessel, an obedient servant. Nothing more.”
“If you say so, you wouldn’t be who you are if you had an ego. But I know the truth and that is sufficient.”
“Are you trying to tell me something, Miss McCorkle? What happened while I was asleep?”
“Nothing, Peter, nothing. It’s just that I, well, for the first time in my until recently useless life I know what my purpose is, what God really wants from me. I know that you know what I’m talking about. Once you find your purpose, life becomes much easier. Peace sets in.”
Peace. Peter did know exactly what Gail was talking about. Despite the trials he was enduring (or was it because of them?), he did know a peace that went “beyond all understanding.” As long as he walked in God’s will, he knew that he could face any challenge, conquer any foe. Such confidence can only come from Above, and no earthly thing can shake it.
“Okay, Gail. Don’t keep me in suspense. What’s your purpose?”
“Hold on there mister! Who said I have to tell you? Mighty presumptuous aren’t we?”
Peter thought she was kidding, but he was still taken aback. “Of course, Gail. Forgive me. I should not have assumed … ”
“Oh, will you stop it,” she said, gently kissing his forehead. “You are my purpose, Panos. I’m to be your protector here, as you said, but I guess I never really knew exactly what that meant until yesterday.”
Peter felt no need to delve further into Gail’s comment. It was powerful enough standing on its own.
“That’s pretty heavy stuff, Miss McCorkle. You don’t give a fella much of a choice, now do you?”
“No sir. You have no choice and neither do I. Isn’t that wonderful! Praise God!”
“Praise Him indeed.”
Standing off in the corner of the cube, so quiet and unobtrusive he almost seemed invisible, was Lawrence Coleman. When Peter saw him and made eye contact Larry looked down at his shoes and gave a sheepish shrug as if to say, “Ah shucks, maybe I should come back later.”
“Mr. Coleman. Warden McCorkle was telling me all about you. Come over here so I can shake your hand.”
Without saying a word, Larry did as he was told.
“Well, don’t keep us in suspense, Mr. Coleman. For heaven’s sake speak up! It isn’t everyday we get the opportunity to talk to someone who has crossed over and returned.” Peter hoped by being upbeat and a bit boisterous he might make Larry more comfortable, draw him out some.
“Yes sir. If you say so, Mr. Kallistos. I’m afraid I can’t tell you much about what happened, but I will do my best.” When Larry spoke it was always in a soft, even fashion. If you didn’t listen closely to what he was saying, you’d miss it. The volume and cadence of his speech were indicative of a man who was far more adept at listening than he was talking.
“Miss McCorkle and a couple of the guards gave me a tour of the camp. I saw Kenneth over talking to you guys and I was going to join you, but suddenly I got sick to my stomach and very tired. My plan was to shower, take a nap and then catch up with you.”
“Saul’s little friends?” Gail asked.
“Don’t ever let him hear you calling them his friends, but yes, Larry was attacked,” Peter explained.
“Yes sir, I’m sure you’re right. I was attacked. Once I got in my bunk, I felt like someone had strapped me down and I couldn’t move or speak. Next thing I remember is waking up on the floor and you were kneeling over me with that white glow all around you.”
“That’s it? What happened after you passed out?”
“I don’t remember anything. Sorry I can’t be of much help. Kenny says I was dead. Is that true, sir?”
“Yes, Larry, it’s true. You had probably been dead for awhile before I arrived.”
“Then the proper thing for me to do is to thank you, Panos. My, My.”
“Larry?”
“For many years, sir, I have waited patiently for this day, for the time when God would send his heavenly messenger back to earth and show His mighty hand to His people. I knew this would happen, but actually living it is a joy beyond description. You
are blessed, Saint Peter, as am I to be in your presence.” Larry dropped to one knee, took Peter’s right hand and kissed it.
“And you thought I was going too far,” Gail said, barely able to control her laughter.
“Larry, Larry. My friend, we need to talk.” Peter was getting more uncomfortable with each passing moment. “First of all, I’m not a saint. As I understand it, you don’t get to be one of those until long after your dead, and I’m still very much alive. Please, don’t ever call me that again.”
“But Panos, I was … ”
“Larry.”
“Yes sir. I only called you that because Gabriel does. I meant no offense.”
“Ha, ha. Got you on that one. You’re gonna love this.” Gail was obviously amused by knowing what Larry was going to say next, he having already told her and the brothers his story earlier in the day.
“Lord have mercy.” Peter positioned his head on the pillow where it throbbed the least and settled in as Larry began to share his testimony.
“For many years, Peter, I’ve run missions in Baltimore and D.C. for the homeless, the Open Arms Ministries. We feed and clothe who we can as God provides, help the poor get services and shelter, and spread the Gospel.”
“Tell Peter what you did before you ran Open Arms, Larry.” Gail wanted to be sure every detail was covered.
“Since I was sixteen, when I dropped out of high school, I’ve been working with the homeless in one way or another. Started volunteering in a soup kitchen, now I run ten of them. Oh, sorry. I used to run ten of them.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Peter said.
“Oh, it gets better. Believe me,” Gail added.
“One day, I guess it’s been nearly twenty years ago, a homeless man sought me out after dinner. He was a Caucasian, about thirty, with light brown, curly hair. Had the most captivating quality about him, he radiated goodness.”
“This will blow your mind, Peter.” Gail was as giddy as a little girl on Christmas morning.