Song For Eagles

Dedicated to Andrew, my nephew

We were the generation of blown minds
the one that the hinge turned on
the one the world turned on...the one the world "turned onto".. things.
they blew our minds
they passed the grass
"acid" test
the me generation

did they care enough about the "you" generation?

we were guinea pigs
they told us to smoke this, don't worry about it
later we were in mental hospitals

but you came along
your generation rose out of the pit that was ours
there you were - strong
and you can do and be so many things we cannot be - go where we cannot
carry the torch

fly eagle
fly to the seas
fly to the mountains
fly to the streams
where we can never be
to the things we could never reach, the things we could never be

fly eagle
soar
be what you can be
reach what you can reach

I won't hold you back with the bitterness of my tears of my lost years
I won't give him that one last victory, to hold you back by groveling in my self pity
To try to keep you from trying
To keep you from flying

fly eagle
fly to the seas
fly to the mountains
fly to the streams
where we can never be
to the things we could never reach, the things we could never be

fly eagle
soar
be what you can be
reach what you can reach

(copyrighted)

It's Not Gay, It's Queer, Part 2

Words For The Homosexual You Don’t Want To Miss, Part 2

As a girl, an adolescent, I was interested in other girls' bodies as an extension of my own. My interest was in the sexuality of the body and I was not attracted to females.

Adolescent girls are afraid of experiencing real sex (I mean, so it was in the mid-1960's,) but they are fully aware of it and extremely curious.

There's excitement in exploring other girls' bodies as a way to get familiar with one's own sexuality, but this is far removed from desiring another girl as a sexual partner, or from having a longing for romance with another girl. This seems to be more acceptable for females than for males, so I hear.

When I turned 16, I remember a female friend in my High School class who was sensual and had been violated - more by the culture than anything else. She had been in some very shallow sexual relationships for a couple years already with older men.

I was staying at her home for a weekend and I remember lying next to her one night and having thoughts of 'playing around' with her as I had done at about 12 or 13 years of age.

Suddenly the thought caused fear and revulsion. Suddenly it seemed evil and inappropriate, because I had passed the point where it was no longer innocent.

I had reached the age of accountability, but also, God had placed His spirit within me through excellent evangelical teaching, and it was His spirit, not me that gave me that check inside.

What causes a young woman to be attracted to this very same evil that suddenly presented itself to me that year, rather than resist it? What makes this a desirable thing to the lesbian?

It is a pathological condition, a weakness that makes good and evil indistinguishable in terms of consequences. It comes from nothing more complicated than our basic evil nature, the sin we were born into.

If you continue in something sinful, including perversion, demons will surely find you and seek to overtake you.

Where people continue in heterosexual or homosexual sex even when they know it will give them AIDS, just to have the full sensation of unprotected sex, the demonic is evident and present there.

Here is an example of the beauty of the multi-dimensional experience of normal, healthy, male to female sexuality that I have experienced.

A policeman dropped me off at a convenience store during the dead of a cold, long winter years ago, because my car had broken down on the highway.

This was to help me to find a phone. At the store I discovered a young man I'd worked with at a security company a couple summers before. At that time he was only about sixteen and a half, but now at eighteen, he was the picture of masculinity with only traces of boyhood left behind.

He was adorable! There was something so innocent about him, so unspoiled; yet he seemed bursting with the thoughts and feelings of a grown man.

I looked at him and literally sent a thought up to God, "this is the object of my greatest desire." Just as my thought emerged, the young man turned, looked at me and smiled.

The affirmation this gave me is something unparalleled on earth. The ordeal I was having with the car and being in a lonely place in the middle of "urban-sprawl" was softened, even made happy by this young man.

I remember thinking how the feelings he was giving me were health to my mind, my body. This was not a sordid lust - this was the purest and surest form of the basic attraction we all feel who long for the opposite sex.

The warmth that came from him was almost a tangible river. I could feel it. I think when we feel this desire, this pure, healthy version of sexuality we are ministered to.

When I sit next to a homosexual male in a cafe or a computer lab - wherever, and he's someone who has all the obvious signs of being gay, almost inevitably I can clearly observe that he cannot, or will not share the current that often runs between a male and me similar to the one described above.

He coldly shuts me out, except in the case of the type of gay man I described at the beginning where by some accident he is attracted to me.

Otherwise, the cold is also almost as tangible as ice. Again, I want to mention that homosexuality carries with it a face, a look, a sound in the voice - that is so unattractive. Think about it - why does it change one's appearance to look and sound strange?

That's why it didn't surprise me that the actor in Will and Grace isn't gay. He isn't gross enough.

Does this not alert the gay person to the truth about him, that he is living a big lie? Yes, and I also know that many who are caught in the gay lifestyle feel trapped, regardless of how hideous they may seem. That prison has been opened by Jesus Christ.

The gay person suffocates and twists what is so profoundly basic in us all. He causes himself ill health, damage. Lesbians and gays are trying to undermine the most fundamental area of their lives! Can you imagine rejecting something as basic as your gender? How miserable!

Adam wasn't happy in Paradise because he was alone. As the saying goes it was Eve not Steve, her, not him who made the difference. God made her out of him so she wouldn't be something that much different, i.e., "bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh."

It was not God's idea to create anything so far from Adam, just something that would reciprocate needs and feelings in a way that would be far better than something identical.

And male and female is one of the most basic and concrete plans God ever showed us. I laugh to think of going against that.

I think of the profound way in which God did that, how men do compliment me and provide so much that a woman can't. I am in awe of this perfect idea and the fact that so much of that perfection is still present in the world.

After all this time I still see my Adam in so many men, having a part in Eve. If you do not accept the biblical story, I cannot convince you or find any frame of reference for you.

How is it that homosexuals have gained so much ground in our society today that we are being told how to think, how to act? There has begun an undermining of our foundations through deadly, "snaky" brainwashing.

Don't impose upon me your same-sex mentality! Lesbianism can only undermine the beautiful love between my mother and myself in which sexuality would be absurd, or the love between me and my blood sisters, and all wonderful loves between me and other mothers and sisters who come into my life.

I will defend to the death these safe, non-sexual relationships against the systematic and lecherous undermining going on, by minds so open their brains are falling out!

How can you live day-by-day killing the power of biological urges, which go to the core of our survival? These urges have caused men to worship women in monosyllabic tones, and these urges have caused women to go through hell in order to have the child they have been told it is not possible to have with the man they love.

How can anyone live in opposition to the first and most basic thing God built into our life on Earth every day of their lives and not only that - also brag about it?

What kind of insane bitterness from rejection or what revulsion of nature could possess such people? Think about it.

There is a deluge that has begun to move in our direction in Western society - starting with the acceptance of the disease of homosexuality, under the guise of coming to the aid of the people afflicted by it, and feeding off of every shred of guilt we may have from ill treatment in the past of homosexuals. And what is our defense? What is our survival packet? Here it is:

A) Ask God to show you that you too are capable of homosexuality. It seems strange, it hurts, and it's ugly to see such a thing within you. No one is above this sin. No one! It shouldn't surprise us to see this within us.

B) Confess your sinfulness to God and ask God to cleanse and purge you. It doesn't matter if you have sinned in this area already or not.

Repentance and forgiveness are two of the greatest weapons of the Christian, in fact, two of the greatest luxuries. You will find power. Use communion - it is also powerful, and rightfully yours if you desire to separate from sin.

C) Live life free from heterosexual lusts. Heterosexual lust leaves the doors wide open to homosexuality.

D) Above all - find Christ's righteousness through his death and resurrection. Do not rely on your own righteousness - a deadly trap.

If Jesus was tempted even in this way, but did not freak out and tell himself he must be gay, then you too can face the temptations to perverted thoughts without owning them, without letting them pigeonhole you.

E) Failure in relationships with people of the opposite sex doesn't have to freak you out. Many are experiencing failure today, because it takes two to make it work, and you can't control the other person's choices.

It can take time to iron out all the kinks that have come from the things that haven't been right in one's life. Find the wisdom of patience.

F) You need to learn about inherited sin. Yes, it's true that our genetics can bring homosexuality, because sin patterns and tendencies are inherited. It doesn't make it natural. It means that it gets passed down. Lucky you. Jesus broke all curses at the cross and can break yours.

G) The good news is that if something is a sin, all we need to do is repent, and Jesus will wash us from it. This was such a breakthrough revelation when I had bulimia years ago.

When I got out of High School I suddenly got fat from eating the way I did as a teen. It was so bad I found myself throwing up to keep from getting fat. My gluttonous eating was so horrible and I wanted to stop.

I was so blessed to know that gluttonous eating was a sin and all I needed to do was repent, because then according to the scriptures 'if we confess our sins He is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.'

Repentance, then, has the power to cleanse us from whatever the problem. Any other type of problem is not as easy to remove if it is not a sin we are committing.

I confessed my gluttony as a sin and was released from gluttony from that time forward. I’ve never had that problem again.

Homosexuality is a compound of sins, therefore a serious condition and not easily overcome, yet nothing is impossible for God. It is rebellion against the simplest most basic plan and design of God.

This rebellion may be forged out of an extreme hurt or disappointment, causing us to lash out at God, who we feel has betrayed us.

It is lust, the kind I have described in another essay, a hateful, unkind, unloving wish for another person.

It is perversion - twisting something out of its original and intended shape. It is hate and violence.

There is no love in sexuality that is against God's way of sexuality because God is love. It is a serious sin condition that breeds in affluent and complacent societies like ours. If you have fallen in, it’s not too late. God has an answer. Call on the Lord and you will be delivered.

I feel terrible for those who are plagued by homosexuality, who have found they are vulnerable to this.

I will offer you my compassion, to find healing and be restored to the person you were meant to be, but I cannot respond to you as long as you expect me to believe that you are normal.

Note: I have encountered trouble in completing this project. I feel sure that the subject I have just presented to you is one of the enemy angel's most treasured conquests in the world today and that certain principalities and rulers of this present darkness in the world desire to propagate the homosexual kind to the furthest degree possible.

As in the days of the prophets of Baal, I know my God is the one who can consume the works of our enemy gods.

Go in peace. The force of the Holy Spirit is with you!

Exodus International: www.exodus.to/ phone no: 888-264-0877

It's Not Gay, It's Queer

I prefer the word "queer", not gay for this, because gay you are not. Gay means happy. You know you are not happy. If you were truly happy, you'd have no reason to end the misery. But you can let misery propel you to end the problem. Those who are comfortable and happy in this sin are lost - eternally, but I know that is not you.


WORDS FOR THE HOMOSEXUAL YOU DON'T WANT TO MISS

Oh to be "gay"

I sit at table with my male friend
I look over and see a young man, and his "friend."
They are conspicuously dressed in 1920's hair and 1920's
sweaters. Something about the face is tight. It's awful.
One of them sees me. He begins to look longer. He begins
to look admiringly. He begins to look longingly.
I look again and catch him looking. He snaps head around to
avoid me. His friend returns. They leave the bar/restaurant
and he detours to pass by the window in front of my friend and me.
He looks at me. Deep inside, I gasp. I pray a prayer for his confusion because I believe he and his friend are "gay."

(I believe this was written when I was "too good to miss")



Homophobia makes sense. What if I am capable of homosexuality? We know for sure that it can happen to a whole society.

I mean, loosely recalling history I know that in Greece the military was 90% gay towards the end of their great civilization. End, that is.

So, if Homosexuals inject their thinking full-force into the society trying to influence others, and are accepted - that's it! The writing is on the wall. Decline ahead. I believe we are seriously heading for a fall.

The man who plays "Will" in the TV show "Will and Grace" said on a recent talk show he believes we'll all be gay someday.

Yeh, over my dead body, Mr. Know-it-all! That possibility is not something I would boast about on a talk show. Interesting that he and the other main gay character are actually straight. Weird, but I was so happy to find it out.

I thought they were straight. Why is that? What happens to a man that even converts his exterior self to reveal that he is "queer" indeed.

We do not know if we are capable of becoming Sodom and Gomorrah. It's about the collective mind. Christ seems to have more interest in us than that. Look at the door that has been opened to the enemy of our souls, allowing AIDS.

Yet here is a crisis that could bring someone out of sin, if they let it. I do believe the disease comes from consequence, in general. (Therefore God can remove it on the behalf of the penitent one.)

I have a right to fear not only disease, but also the moral disease that can erode a culture, that can desensitize people to what is right and wrong, that can weaken the moral fiber. Excuuuuuse me, then for my "homophobia," but I'm gonna say these things if it causes trouble, or not.

Of course one must not hate people for homosexuality as has been done in the past. We must not insist that people live in dark corners alone, unable to talk about the strange desires they are not able to control, and try to brush the problem and the people under the rug.

There is healing for the homosexual through basic principles laid down in the Bible, and that healing has perhaps been denied for too long, so we reap the consequences.

As a society we eventually suffer as a whole for our neglect of homosexuals as their bitterness and hatred escalate. The power they have over us comes from the guilt we harbor deep down from our own part in the problem - our neglect.

The word homosexual means same-sexual (homo=same,) therefore the word applies to male or female and shouldn't be used to denote only males of that orientation.

In observing two lesbians, or female homosexuals, I noticed one was very pretty, the other looked like a lesbian (could that have been the perverse turning up of the corners of the mouth as she looked at me?)

She had short, black hair, and a very rugged face. Ok, let me stop here and acknowledge - homosexual sex is a part of the human race because we all are capable of just going after kinky, wild forms of sex - it's in us. I am not exempt. Some are more vulnerable to that.

Back to the "queer" women - OOOOH isn't it just sweet and cozy? Together they left the cafe where I found them, the pretty one of the two, the unlikely one (of course), took the masculine role, surrounding the other one with her hands and arms.

Because it's weird, it's kinky, it's not how it's supposed to be and that's rebellious. Rebellion can appeal to you if you have given up on the things you once loved that were right.

They are so "close." It led me to thinking...

1) Women get their periods at the same time when they live together. Ish. Yuck. The thought of touching another woman's menstrual blood, it makes me cringe. But for a man, it’s not a problem or disgusting at all.

Why should it be? When the mind becomes perverse, when you want to rebel against what is normal, you can learn to overcome what would otherwise be objectionable. You can learn to love what is disgusting. The thought of oral sex with another woman-it also makes me nauseous. Involving myself with labia, or vaginal discharge (unless as a gynecologist) ISH! ISH! ISH! What possesses a woman so that she can love such a thing? Need I say?

2) Don't things hit these two over the head once in a while, such as, a woman can never truly make love to another woman with a part of her body, the one thing which makes sexuality between a man and woman extremely charged and strange, but fantastic?

A man puts an extremely sensitive part of his own body inside the woman. This is the profound, the symbolic thing about heterosexual (normal) sex that is so essential and cannot in any way, shape, form be replaced in homosexual sex by either gender.

To say that it is replaced in any way is stupid and absurd. Doesn't it seem absolutely ridiculous, childish, flat and empty to be trying to simulate what a man does each and every time they strap on a fake penis? It should remind them that a man has a real flesh and blood penis.

They don't care if this is absurd because they enjoy bashing God and God's beautiful creation. However, that is something we all are capable of, I want to add, but usually because the good things have been destroyed for us.

Always in male homosexual sex one person is uncomfortable or in pain while the other is getting a cheap, merely physical imitation of true, fulfilling sex. Interesting that God's ideal is that both parties feel ecstasy at the same time, with body parts complementing each other in a way that it is not painful, but also, homosexuals seem to miss the fact that there is a deep, spiritual component built into God's way of sex that is only present with male and female.

Both feel wonderful sensations at the same time, but both fulfill some God-given need, in part, as they merge with the other sex.

It is as fundamental as God saying he made man in his image: male and female. The true Godhead is made complete as male and female unite. The mystery that Apostle Paul talked about lay in the fact that God has become the lover of mankind as male is lover to the female.

It seems possible that the two become one because the oneness created is a total picture of the Godhead who himself said that his image is made up of male and female. (See Genesis.)

It amazes me that for the sake of whatever the homosexual is trying to 'prove' he or she endures third-rate sex that is merely the physical aspect of getting an orgasm or some kind of physical pleasure. It is shallow.

There are those who try to say it is good sex. How unbelievable. How stupid. They are referring to an erotic experience that can in no way come close to what male and female can experience because of the dimensions God has placed within it. And in giving in, and going to the homosexual dimension, they have lost the ability to truly experience the mysterious, wonderfulness of what God has given to male and female.

God did not place within males and females the same dimensions with their own sex as he placed within male and female towards each other.

Homosexuals cannot see the third and fourth dimensions that cannot possibly exist between them. What? Do homosexual men find a perfect replacement in having the penis enter the part of the body that disposes of bodily waste? HA! What mockery of the creation! And that's what it is. It is mockery because it is forged in cynicism - when we give up on the good things.

When the penis is sinking into human feces - this perfectly replaces the union of male and female? What? While one man looks down at another man's back, and causes him pain while he finds momentary pleasure of the rankest kind? This is "wonderful?" HUH? Are you insane? I really think so.

Homosexual love is not actually love for your own sex - to the contrary. There is an underlying hatred or disgust for one's own sex, not to mention, there is hatred for the opposite sex, despite what many will claim.

I have examined these things carefully, having also been tempted by the gay lifestyle. I have observed the fundamental basis for this temptation. It was deterioration that brought this temptation. It was the deterioration of my hopes regarding the opposite sex.

I believe when one is hurt by the opposite sex and after going ahead of God and indulging sexuality outside of a loving commitment, what God would have, one can become so deeply wounded.

I can see clearly, having passed through these same portals more than once, where the spirit of the age was beating against my soul and where homosexual thoughts came flooding in and I didn’t have the usual resistance.

I can see that there is a cynicism that comes in with the hurt, and homosexuality is a result of the cynicism. Ugh. Are you ready for the truth? Homosexuality is a compound of evils, of sins. These words cannot help the one who just doesn't care about all this. For those who never really cared about the good things, about God's good things, God's ways - this is meaningless. I am speaking to the ones who care, or who once cared.

Satan is lying to you. It has a lot to do with the collective unconscious of a place, and the spirits in that place, something I understand now but didn't then, when I first felt overwhelmed by a new temptation to perversion.

There I was, 28 years old, and let me tell you how heterosexual I am, how I've always adored the male. Yet, at 28, living in central Philadelphia surrounded by transvestites waiting for their turn to have their sex change at the Philadelphia hospital, which is renowned for it's sex changes, I was being attacked by something new and unwelcome. I was being bombarded by homosexual thoughts.

My sister shared a passage from some book years ago. I can't remember if it was C.S. Lewis or who it was, but he stated that he observed living in a location, I believe it was Israel, how different the influence of the west bank from the east bank.

He noticed that the prevailing attitudes and behavior of the people in the area he was living strongly influenced his own thinking. He noticed that where he otherwise wouldn't think certain thoughts or have certain impulses, yet living in that particular location, he had those thoughts and impulses.

I think that Carl Jung tried to define that as the collective unconscious. I know now that it goes beyond the power of minds and the power that one mind can have over another. I also know that spirits - wicked spirits can overwhelm and control minds.

Living in Central Philadelphia was negative because of many negative spiritual influences. I didn't know how to "hold them back' as well as I do now, and I am still learning. My experience in a church in Toronto was that the administration had created a sanctuary where the wicked spirits were pushed back and the spirit of God prevailed to create the sweetest atmosphere. But Central Philadelphia was having a different sort of influence.

Just prior to this I was living on the other coast in Los Angeles. The collective unconscious of that particular region is very powerful and controlling also. I had been influenced by the attitudes and behavior of L.A. at a time when some were choosing to escape typical lifestyles and try celibacy.

A new movement was under way called "neo-celibacy". The old kind was monks and nuns. The new kind was people reacting to the damage done by promiscuity, lust, and a casual environment for sex. A guy told me, "It's either become a neo-celibate or become gay." In other words: either get off the sex merry-go-round or let it take you even further into a wilder, cruder form of self-indulgence and perversion.

And I had just moved to Philadelphia where people weren't old fashioned anymore. Oh no! You can't let that "old world" exterior fool you.

Brotherly love is now brotherly lust. I had stopped the destruction and become a neo-celibate a little too late. I had also gotten pregnant and it led to a miscarriage. Miscarriages are a lot more traumatic and dangerous than people realize. Post miscarriage is a time of mourning and a time of psychological vulnerability.

The damage had been done. Me - a raging heterosexual! I suddenly felt like putty, strangely without resistance to sensual thoughts and feelings. My head was reeling.

I felt as if I was losing my mind. It didn't seem possible that I was getting thoughts of perversion, and I didn't want to admit it. Wow! I would know today exactly what was happening. The collective unconscious and the wicked spirits of a metropolis are controlling. Yes, I had to deal with something in me, but there was something outside of me I never understood.

Satan has been given a degree of power to be able to invade our thought lives. If you get a thought of perversion, why does it surprise you? You still have a flesh side of you and the enemy can influence it. There is no need for panic or to think you are now "gay."

No one is gay, that is a lie. Everyone is either male or female, and everyone is capable of perverting the normal way of the genders. That your flesh would want to pervert sexuality should be no surprise. But if Christ has bought you, you can just say, "no" to the enemy. Just send the author of sin away, and confess your own sin.

I finally sought out the group called HARVEST at Tenth Presbyterian in downtown Philadelphia (restoration for the homosexual through Jesus.) Partly, I chose this ministry because it was all I could find in that town that had living, evangelical Christianity. Here at last were people whose lives had been truly transformed by Christ, and they were thankful to Jesus for it.

Finally, in the privacy of my own home I simply came to terms with the reality that I was capable of the sin of homosexuality, and that I had opened a door through my heterosexual sins. Something had been conceived within me, though not realized through experience. I simply confessed this to God, while taking a bath, and asked him to cleanse me of this sin.

An important element is that I needed to recognize and confess that I could not stand in my own righteousness. No. I needed to come to the end of that, and to accept that I too could become homosexual and am capable of perversion. In the transaction that took place, I confessed my sin that had brought me to this place, but also received the righteousness of Jesus in place of my own. In that I found grace and strength to overcome.

Wham! I came out of that weird struggle overnight. Simple confession and forgiveness are great weapons of the Christian. I was afraid that sin would grow in me and lead to actions, and confession stopped that.

It's important to note that I will always recognize the potential I have for that sin, and will never assume that I am beyond it. This gives me great power against it. It is our strongest defense. Self-righteousness will never hold up. It's His righteousness or no righteousness.

We are tested and tempted by our living in the world. Not being of the world is only possible in the strength of His righteousness replacing our own. Yes, the self-righteous attitude of those who do not feel tempted by homosexuality, and maybe never have, can be cruel and loveless.

Violence is an element of homosexuality. It exists in homosexuality because it exists wherever there is lust. I will later add scriptures that confirm this. There are several scriptures that link violence to lust. I will outline this in my essay entitled merely: "sexuality." The evidence is everywhere.

Homosexuality proves that there always have been two kinds of desire involved in human sexuality.

One: the multi-dimensional longing to join with the body of the gender with which one can create new life, and find affection and love according to nature and God, i.e. male to female.

Two: the desire for pleasure, for kinky diversions from love, for other people's spouses in order to play a game or cause pain (a destructive wish,) for a physical sensation and experience with anything or anyone for the sake of excitement, or the desire for someone in a kind of idolatry, or the desire for someone as a conquest for the sake of ego. These I label with one word: lust, whether they be between male and female or of the same sex.

Homosexuality is not only the second kind of desire; it is taking it to the next level, taking us deeper into bondage. It's lust gone completely wrong, completely out of control. It cannot have the dimensions of health and love, and it is not surprising that it has fostered so much disease (syphilis now occurs only in homosexual males, did you know?)

Don't give me your hare-brained sentiment about how homosexuality can belong to the first category if the situation is right! Homosexuality is intrinsically and without exception an evil diversion from healthy sexuality and nothing you can do can redeem it from that.

You think marriage can redeem it? Hilarious.

You cannot experience love for your own sex and include lust, there is no possible way.

Homosexuals have damaged the one relationship in which the most pure and self-less love can be found-fraternal love. What is fraternal love? It is an unselfish love felt toward a brother or sister, which does not include sensuality or sexual desire.

Just as with our pets, we can get a non-sexual, and thus non-threatening touch from our brother or our sister, or our friend of the same gender. In homosexuality, this is being threatened.

It is one of the purest loves, right up there with mother or father love. It is a relationship in which we can retreat and know we are not being used, that there is nothing to be desired about us but our true selves. For the homosexual, lust has spilled over into that relationship too. There are no boundaries. There are no safe places.

I don't know how I could handle the tragedy of losing the beautiful love that I now can have with another woman or the tragedy of losing the protection I have against elements of desire that would pervade it.

To lose that would tell me to scream in terror. But because of an overwhelming deluge of perversion and of lust, the homosexual lives that nightmare which I cannot bear to imagine.

Even in my relationships with men, it seems only the ones which do not include sexual desire last and demonstrate true love. In any relationship where we introduce sexuality, problems always seem to come so easily.

If sexuality is spilling over into all sorts of relationships where once one felt "safe" from them, one cannot experience this without misery, unless one is merely a devil or a son of the devil.

How horrible when a father sees his daughter no longer as a beloved child but he sees her body, her sexuality and takes an interest only in the pleasure it might give him.

How horrible when a person sees an animal and instead of having a divine respect for a species given by God to mankind for a divine purpose, sees it as a means of sexual pleasure. This could be a dog or a horse.

Men have looked at the opening on a sheep, and seeing it’s not that different from a human female, they have decided to have sex with a sheep. What can you say about such a man? Such a person as this has lost all self-respect, all hope, all faith, all life, all love.

Do I have to remind you that AIDS reportedly began with someone doing this same thing with a monkey? There are built in consequences when sin goes to the extreme. Thank God. Without consequences we would not know for sure if anything were wrong.

Imagine, a man saw that a monkey is a higher species, and has an opening, a vagina similar to a woman, and says, "I'll have sex with that." He sees a boy, and since boys can be small and delicate with smooth skin, he can't see the difference between that and a soft, delicate woman. No boundaries!

Something horrible happens to a society where the boundaries surrounding those who should be protected, or those who are completely inappropriate for sex are destroyed. That society becomes very, very ill. And that's what I see happening, and my soul is troubled.

Satan is a thief, a killer and a destroyer. He wants nothing more than to see you and the culture around you sink into lust and perversion, with no boundaries, and uncontrolled passions and desires until you turn into a pile of mush!

All the colors of relationships just run into one muddy mess. That way you and others will lose all strength and energy for life and lose all inspiration for the things that really matter and you and those around you will be destroyed. This is happening to our society. It is terrifying.

Why have so many societies and countries disappeared into fragments of history? Because, Satan did them in too. They eventually were overtaken by passionate hatred, greed, anger, vengeance, lust, murder and perversion.

Just think of where things can end up. Think of those strong characters of honor we depend on to hold our society together. If they get old and die and are not replaced, it is a tragedy.

Since this is such a long essay, I have divided it in half. See part 2.

To contact an organization that helps people resolve unwanted homosexuality, look up the website: www.exodus.to/ called Exodus International or call 888-264-0877. There are thousands of success stories of kicking the gay lifestyle.

How Jesus Saved Me!

There have been two giants in my life, seemingly sent to destroy me: a father who didn’t seem to love me, and mental illness.

My father is a retired pastor, so he lived a double life. He was a ‘man of the cloth’ to the public, but to his family and to me, he was an angry man. He lashed out at me and hurt me, verbally and physically all through my childhood.

When I turned 18, I suddenly had a terrible manic episode. It was like having a bad LSD trip, only I hadn’t taken drugs. Suddenly, all my plans were destroyed – no college for me. I was suddenly unable to do the things I was once able to do, and that is how I have been ever since – fragile.

But that is not the whole story.

When I had the episode, I went to my mother and asked Jesus into my heart. Getting into a bible study with my peers followed this, and I began to seek God for the first time in my life. I also forgave my father. At least, it was the first layer of forgiveness for him.

Even though I was seeking God, a year after I had the first episode, and each year for four years after that, I had subsequent manic episodes. Each time, my mother had the wisdom to take me, not to a hospital, but to faith healers.

A couple of times she took me to a hospital, but when I came out and was on drugs and was no better, it became clear that there was no solution in drugs or doctors, so she still had to take me to a faith healer. Through their prayer ministry, I was delivered instantly from manic-depressive symptoms. My manic episode would come to an immediate halt in the name of Jesus!

Finally, in the fourth year, the last faith healer I went to ministered powerfully to me during an episode, and I walked away free.

I didn’t have another episode, at least for eleven years.

Now you would think that I would just be grateful to God and would serve him joyfully because of that. I didn’t. Just because of the mental illness that I had gone through, I doubted God and strayed from Him.

For those years, I had no episodes, just some depression and some slight symptoms that remained – nothing major. But, in order to be rid of those, I went to a psychiatrist. Can you believe that? God had helped me through faith healers, but now I had strayed and was going to a psychiatrist for help.

The psychiatrist put me on some powerful psychotropic medication. I was OK for a couple of years, but then there were these side effects. I started to gain weight. My hair stopped growing. I was miserable. When I tried to go off medication, a manic episode would result! Now I was really miserable! I felt trapped!

In addition to this, I lost the only man I had ever truly been in love with. I was devastated. The good thing about it is that it drove me to the Lord.

Thank God for what drives us back to Him!

You probably want to hear that all my problems ended after that! No! My problems only began at that point! The problems with manic-depression only intensified.

I found the most amazing church in Toronto, the one they call the Toronto Blessing. And there I discovered a love relationship with God like nothing I have ever known.

Two years after I found that I had a horrific car accident while having a bizarre manic episode. I got into a car and drove into a tree, losing a joint in my right foot, and causing a scar across my right shoulder.

I had just begun to learn more about the importance of forgiveness, John Arnott’s favorite message, the Senior pastor at the Toronto Airport Christian Fellowship.

It's been an intense spiritual battle all the while pursuing a love relationship with God.

Through it all I’ve found restoration in my soul and in my relationships. I moved back in with my parents after about twenty years of not living with them. I discovered with an attempt to live with them twenty years ago, that living with them was a large part of the mental illness. I'm successfully living with them and having a blessed time with them, helping my dad now that he is disabled.

I had once rejected my family and sought to avoid them, since I had issues with all of them, not just my dad. But now I spend most of my time with them, and have forgiven them, and continue to forgive them.

I have a good job where I have respect and some management responsibilities. I sing at my parents’ church.

God is so real to me and I continue a love relationship with Him where He is the most important thing in my life. Since all the episodes that I went through, I can see that the enemy was trying to stop the growth and healing that was taking place but didn’t succeed.

I’ve also been healed of back trouble and gum disease. I believe God will someday restore the joint that is missing from my foot.

The doctors, who I once feared, have lowered my meds and I can foresee a day when I’ll be taken off of meds completely.

Praise Jesus!

2/17/09

What Is A Frat Rat?

Published in a University paper in the early 90’s.



The ancient Greeks were never able to answer one very important question, and the question still haunts the Greeks today: What is a frat rat?

I am here to answer that question.

Who am I?

A cleaning lady. I'm one of those artists who tries to write and paint and stuff and so I work...on the side.

I do jobs like clean houses, or chop up buffalo chips while trying to sell my 1000 sketches of upside-down rhinoceros butts(just as an example.)

I was cleaning the home of this nice, older couple in south Minneapolis one day when their son showed up. He was a gorgeous, young Italian type who introduced himself as Romeo.

I said, "Hi-yi-yi" and he said he would like me to come and work for his fraternity because they really needed help.

"Boy do they need help," I thought. I ended up working there for the next five years, and concluding, "I adore frat guys."

Me and the guys got along famously right away. They complimented me or they ridiculed me, all in fun.

Sometimes they put creepy things in the bathroom sinks, but I thought it was a laugh riot.

Most importantly, all their fraternity-style antics simply made my day, and the rowdy characters were just great for my self-esteem.

I'm not saying things couldn't get carried away, but the guys responded to my limits and boundaries. If things went too far I could draw the line.

And, as for rape. HA! I never feared that, especially since these guys have adoring females everywhere. What did they need me for?

Oh please, don't even think it. They aren't really ancient pagans, they're just named after them. To be completely honest, the real concern at fraternity X was how to keep me from sexually harassing them. Ladies have you seen some of these guys?


They all have girlfriends or hope for one, they all want to get married and often do when the four years are up. Where does the stereotype fit in? What's the big deal anyway?

Many times one of the guys would get into a serious discussion with me about the things that mattered in his life. Some told me they go to church regularly and went into a lengthy discourse on why.


Each fraternity is known to be involved in some kind of philanthropy. They are mostly just plain sweethearts, hilariously funny, talented, and highly intelligent. Why do people give them the worst rap? Why did I at one time?

Perhaps the answer lies in this: they remind me of the young men in The Dead Poet's Society-- they are privileged, slightly upper-crusty boys, and as endearing as the characters in the film.

I think what sends people puking is the fact that they have such cohesiveness as a group and are generally so upbeat. They belong to each other and THEY have a community in an over-sized University. They are, for the most part, let's face it- winners!

Yet they will never hold you to that. For each one is an individual plagued with insecurities like anyone else, trying to get his own life off the ground. And that's all they are thinking about, not about being better than you.

What is a frat rat? He's an occasional member of a fraternity who...drinks too much beer at a party and tries to score with a girl he just met. HMMMM, this just sounds too much like a large number of ordinary college guys in their wild oats phase.

OK, how about this? A frat rat never commits to any girl. HMMM, try again. A frat rat...feels superior. Oh brother, how many guys in their prime don't feel that way occasionally?

Try again. A frat rat...gets a tan. Oh I don't know what a frat rat is. I can't be sure I've ever met one, or would recognize one if I did. Let's get real.

Ladies! I've got a secret. Next time you see Campus Carni or Homecoming antics being put on by Larry, Moe or Curly of Fraternityville, USA, go and check them out. I guarantee there's a chance that one of those guys is the man you're gonna spend the rest of your life with.

Europe

Tragedy - a sexual relationship with a playboy, and pregnancy.

Mare was careful and knew how to avoid pregnancy.

When she got pregnant, she was 27 and something snapped. Rob already had a son and she loved his 10-year-old son.

She got careless intentionally, but when she discovered she was pregnant, she still went ballistic.

She never realized that her understanding of what to do to avoid pregnancy had been correct all along. It was still rather surprising.

She went to a church service for Christmas Eve and the part about Mary hearing that she was going to give birth hit her between the eyes. Suddenly she just knew she was pregnant. It was prophetic.

The guy revealed so soon that he was not playing for keeps. She had gotten herself in a bad relationship. His son said she was "one of" the ones his dad would consider for marriage - a consolation?

The guy was in deep in a wrong lifestyle with different women.

He was in a band that played locally, and Mare met him one night when visiting the club. It was a top 40 band and not a source of any adequate money.

He and his son lived like hippies. He looked like a hippie, sort of.

He was Italian (go figure!) He had dark brown hair, curly, was handsome, sort of Mick Jaggerish or something. He wore round wire rims. Mare was a sucker.

Mare met a girl who was in love with him, sitting down at table one night in a night club where he played, but only after getting pregnant, after it was too late to just walk away.

The girl said that she and Rob had a special bond because of their shared belief in God. He had gotten Mare on the God thing too, just because he understood some things about God.

Sensing that she was talking about a shared belief that was weird, Mare asked who she thought God was. "Hare Krishna" she said. Mare could have dropped through the floor. He had only told Mare that he had been raised Catholic.

Mare yelled at him for not telling her. He gave her some smooth explanation such as: I wanted to wait til you could appreciate my beliefs before labeling me according to your preconceived notions about what believing in Hare Krishna means.

You guessed it, Mare found herself, before long visiting the Krishna temple just out of sheer shock and curiosity, having no desire for the religion whatsoever.

She didn't go with Rob however. She had this awesome friend named Amos who was a native of L.A., a guy with normal feelings towards others based on a fairly healthy background.

She loved him as a friend. He did some kind of work but did music on the side, was in a band, said his brother had once dated a member of the original Sat Nite Live cast - the one with the cherry red curly hair.

Amos was a decent friend and one who helped share the shock of pregnancy with Mare when it happened.

He was a fairly intellectual sort who loved to have fun but wasn't wild or destructive. Once he suggested that just for fun they should go to the emergency room of a hospital and say they are doing a journalistic story for school, and hang out and watch all the people who get brought in just for entertainment.

As maybe God would have it, they went to one but the help told them it was a slow night and they gave up waiting.

Amos also enjoyed doing other things for the humor of going where you aren't exactly supposed to be but pretending to be there for other reasons, such as what was just mentioned.

One of his other fun things to do was to go to the Krishna temple for the free food and pretend that he was a potential devotee.

He told Mare he did this, on occasion, after learning of her "boyfriend" and his religious leanings.

So, together with Amos, Mare went to the Krishna temple of Los Angeles - a huge place with lots of those eastern paintings, must've been of Krishna, but they were mostly in blue and absolutely garishly awful.

The food is offered for free, but they hope that you will begin to make contributions if they notice you are a regular.

They don't try to verify if you believe in it or not, they just don't want you to keep eating without making offerings, and that's probably not something you'll do if you have no desire for the religion.

Unless you are Amos.

Mare could never have come back for that food, personally, it was from Indian culture, but not the kind of finer food from an Indian restaurant and she found it to be horrible.

But Amos was a "starving" artist. He claimed he needed the free food. The food is offered to Krishna and Mare didn't believe in Krishna so she figured the food had nothing in it to worry about.

Today she would view all of this very differently, but at this time in her life it was time to learn and get experience that would teach.

Her "boyfriend" was there and was with that girl from the club. Amos, through humor and compassion, helped Mare through the painful reality as a true friend.

Some member of the religious order recognized Amos from coming there too often and decided he was a fake. The guy told him to leave, and they did, but on the way out Amos yelled

"I'll never believe in little blue men!!!"


Amos and Mare, having established a friendship before the pregnancy, went one night (pre-Rob) to a coffee house in L.A. - very popular, and upstairs a guy played soft folk music of the Dylan type and downstairs a band did hardcore punk and punkers danced.

Mare danced and got around some different people but felt accepted.

His friends and he were pretty decent, and his brother was there to play, but as in so many settings, she was still an outsider.

One night (post-pregnancy) Mare visited Rob at one of his "gigs" and danced, thinking the whole time, "I wonder if this hurts a baby at this early of a stage." It was early enough and no danger, but she didn't have information.

She wasn't going for special care yet. But Mare didn't go in for anxious dependence on doctors in the first place. This was her normal way of dealing with any physical problem.

Another night at one of his gigs, his band mate announced that he was one of those rock and rollers who "gets girls knocked up", which was based on only one pregnancy - Mare's, absolutely bragging about it.

Rob didn't know Mare was there. He noticed later and apologized about it. He told her he had a hard time getting his wife pregnant so he had been sure he was sterile. Possibly other unprotected "experiences" had made him pretty sure about this.

Rob lived in a one-room apartment with his son. It was part of his religion. He believed in this. Mare was simply drawn to his close relationship with his son.

His son was a precocious ten year old who was raising his father. He told Mare one night when she hung out at the apartment waiting for his father to return that he wished his father could be just one of those nerdy nice guys and settle down with a woman.

That's when he told her that she was a candidate for marriage, but along with others. He was exasperated with his father's lifestyle.

Mare had another friend living across the courtyard of her apartment shared with a Bostonian named Sarah. His name: Mike.

This friend was also only about three years younger. He was tall and handsome with dark hair. He was very conservative, worked a normal day job and was very responsible. He absolutely couldn't access the passionate needs of her heart, but he was a sweet and loyal friend.

He said if she wanted an abortion, he would help her do that, and if she wanted the baby, he'd help her with that - whatever she chose. He wasn't sure about abortion at the same time that Mare was in a terrible turmoil trying to decide if it was wrong as well.

Deep down her conscience said it was wrong.

She couldn't fall asleep at night until she would make up her mind not to have an abortion.

Through the day, she'd go over the choices, and there were no real "choices." Every way to go was terrifying and terrible in her mind.

She was still trying to resolve the past with her family, her parents.

She distrusted them thoroughly, and the child would force her not only to go back and live near or with them, it would force her to subject a whole new person to the very same things that were tearing her up inside.

She had no autonomy, no stable life or job. She felt obligated then to return to her parents. The thought of adoption was so painful, it really didn't seem to be an "option" at all.

What if this was the only child she ever bore? What if the chance would never come again?

She had never planned to have a child until life was ironed out in some way to have some shape, some substance of health and normalcy, and then to have a strong, stable life with a man who wanted to be her husband.

This was her ultimate goal. Especially after this experience, she would never allow pregnancy to occur again without marriage.

Having the child, keeping it, adoption - all of it weighed heavily and all of it spelled disaster, and/or heartbreak to the maximum degree.

She could just picture having this body all stretched out from a child she'd had, but no child!

She resented the thought of going through all that and ending up with nothing as a reward for all that she would endure or sacrifice.

Women endure pain, they endure the change or damage to their bodies, but there is something to look forward to that overrides all of that.

But the emotional pain of letting her child go - that was beyond her grasp to even imagine. She'd be alone again, thinking of her lost child.

Abortion was a way to avoid going through the pain and the losses physically, and to avoid the overwhelming responsibility, and to avoid most of all having to return to life with her parents.

But abortion doesn't remove the pain of being alone again and thinking of a lost child. The physical consequences of abortion were never explained to her.

She did go to a counselor at a family planning clinic.

God put people in her path to help with this choice.

Rob surprisingly was completely opposed to abortion as being unquestionably wrong. His new religion, though obviously not in the least having altered his free wheeling sexual lifestyle, embraced all living things, thankfully, and his former religion was Catholicism.

Need I say more? He told her he couldn't believe how emotionally upset she was. The intensity of emotion that had caused "episodes" in the past was compounded by her being pregnant.

The counselor at the clinic told her that she herself had given birth to two children earlier in life that were given up for adoption, and that she would have an abortion if it were today.

But, she also told her to just stop, breathe, and ask herself if she thinks that abortion is wrong. If the answer is "yes" then she should walk away and forget all about abortion. Mare knew the answer immediately
.

She left the clinic and walked out on the beach near the clinic, which was Venice beach. It was teaming with life and people were playing volleyball and roller- skating.

She sat and watched people and realized that there was no question about the fact that God still loved people and that they were created in his image, and that no matter how things looked in the world, that God embraced human life.

A strange light, a warm , tender presence enveloped her as she had this "revelation." The human life inside her was precious in his sight.

She walked to a cafe that was on the beach and ordered a beverage, trying to gain composure in spite of being scared out of her mind.

What would she do?

I tell you what she did. Her friend across the courtyard came to see her one day and she was wearing a blouse she owned pulled out like a maternity blouse, even though it's meant to be tucked in. He said, "oh, I know what that means." She had made up her mind to have the child.

Her ex-boyfriend, the Jewish man Chaim, came to see her at this time and wished her well.

She had no peace at all except the peace to fall asleep.

Her choice to have the child was merely a moral obligation, but she had only fear for the outcome.

Then one day blood came spurting out. She realized it was a miscarriage. She had never thought of the possibility of a miscarriage, but now it was happening.

She tried to call Ron but no answer. She left a message. She spent a night in the hospital. The friend, Mike, from across the courtyard brought her.

The nurse said she was so special. She held her face and kept telling her how special she was for trying to have the child.

The nurse was like God's angel giving her accolades and praise. The doctor gave her a "D & C." Pain like she'd never felt.

The nurse said that the friend who brought her there was really great.

All of this was sad. Once Mare came back home she felt sad. Sarah had even beat her slightly one day, she was so fed up with Mare's misery, but later she felt totally sorry.

Sarah despised Rob, even though he had agreed to help with the child.

It took time, but with the realization that the nightmare was over, that it had been taken out of her hands, Mare was beginning to recognize God's love. God had taken the baby and the burden away.

There is depression with a miscarriage, but this was allayed quite a lot by the letter she received in the mail shortly thereafter.

The letter said that her elderly friend who had died left her five thousand dollars. It was more money than she had ever seen.

She had the money to go to Europe. She had the money to leave Los Angeles. She would be able to start over – start a new life, get away from this bad man.

With a little time and appreciation for what God had done, she was swirling in the swimming pool at the place where she was staying temporarily and rejoicing, realizing that God had set her free!

She had found a bible study group at this juncture, just before the miscarriage, who also supported her through this.

She took a trip all over Europe for three and a half glorious months, backpacking, staying in youth hostels, taking a train, and meeting people everywhere.

She was able to avoid any sexual encounters, concentrating on the banquet of culture Europe offered, and the friendship found on the way.

She was now a little wiser, and certainly a little more aware that God could do anything when there was a problem that seemed insurmountable.

In that brief opening there was a window to heaven. She still didn't know, understand or seek God, yet. But it was a step.

The Priestess - a short Story

A novel dedicated to the late Par Lagerkvist, who taught me the power of simple writing, and who gave a perfect description of the pagan mind.

Chapter 1

The year was between 20 and 40AD. The location: a village on a northern island. The temperature was neither hot nor cold, but colder than hotter.

Two men remained bowed before a large stone, until someone came to inform them that they were relieved of their duty for the day. It was a special day for the people of the village. A special ritual would be performed. For this reason it was not necessary for the two men of the village to bow before the stone that had been dropped ‘by the gods’ years ago in fierce flames. The people of the village believed that if they kept a watch before the stone, certain gods would not punish them again. Today, however, they believed that if all the people did not participate in the ritual, certain other gods would punish them for that.

The gods were juggling them constantly, but they had no choice. The gods were smarter and stronger. The goddess of destruction, for example, was not to be messed with.

All of the people began to move slowly and without any thought towards the garden site. It might seem like a holiday from work, but everyone knew it was no holiday. This was a necessary evil, at best. The King was beginning to slouch, his skin was dry and rumpled, and his visage was becoming undesirable. The nature goddess, married to the King, was getting old along with him and wasn’t happy anymore. However old he became was how old she became also. The nature goddess required a virile, handsome, young man as her king.

As long as the nature goddess remained young, the crops would grow and nature would be kind to the people. If she became old, the crops would fail, animals would die, and nature would be harsh. Of course, nature had treated them harshly while the king was young, but no one had a truly good explanation for that.

The people were still meandering to the garden site where they knew that they would observe a ritual, which they did not find undesirable, since none of them were required to participate. It was fairly good sport for them and they rather liked it. The only undesirable factor was facing, once again, THE PRIESTESS! Everyone shuddered at the thought.

She received the title ‘priestess’ only because she was second in power to the high god ‘Gragon.’ She promised protection from the wrath of the ‘Great Spirit.’ Each person only need submit to her because of the agreement she had made with him.

As they approached the ritual grounds they thought again of the ways that she dominated or even controlled their lives. The priestess sought to embody, to some degree, the goddess of nature. Yet, it was the goddess of destruction that she reminded them of.

Young men were her great pastime. She exulted in their desire for her, and longed for nothing more than their sleek perfection, their rugged attractiveness and their physical abilities, which were demonstrated to her personally.

She had taken a fancy for the husband of a young maiden who was pregnant. She let him know that he was hers and that he had no say in the matter. He vowed never to touch her, but as a result, she put a curse on his wife and the baby was born dead and grotesquely deformed.

The priestess then got her way with him. There was nothing she could not have through her occult powers.

She favored men, not women. Her treatment of women was far more severe than her treatment of men. The priestess was in favor of the slavery of women to men, and if any woman dared to flirt with one of the priestess’ prized court members, she got her nose cut off. The priestess despised most women, but considered them a fair contest for her superiority. She subjugated them to cruel humiliation. Some were used for other men, but none could approach the men she had chosen for herself.

You could say that she ruled the people. Yes, she even ruled the King, for whom she had lost desire. In fact, she now felt contempt towards him.

The rulers of the larger kingdom from the south had sort of left this part of the island alone. The priestess had somehow been able to continue to have her control, like her mother and grandmother before her.

There was some man she had once loved, once upon a time, but the details were blurred. All they knew was that he hadn’t loved her and that she had put him to death. Some say before him she had an element of humanity left in her. There was some talk of a child, whisked away in miscarriage, but that was a rumor. No one knew for sure.

No one dared to cross her knowing that even if they never saw her personally, she had the power to destroy them with her witchcraft.

No one chose to leave the kingdom of the priestess because they didn’t know there was anything else. It never occurred to them.

Yet, in spite of all that has been said about the priestess, no one knew about a dream that she had been having her whole life, and never understood. No one ever heard this dream, and she never wanted anyone to know about it. She held everyone in the grip of fear and the dream would certainly change that.

She dreamed of being a young maiden in a beautiful place that had more light than this place where it rained and poured and was dreary so often. She dreamed that there were beautiful flowers, mainly lavender, heather, lilacs and violets growing in abundance. She relished the color purple and its cousin, lavender. She had seen them growing abundantly in the fields in front of her little cottage that she dreamed of, where she kept animals and grew beautiful things.

There was a man of some kind, but this part was vague. It was a glorious place and that was all she knew. People came to her there and brought gifts of food and flowers when she wasn’t well and she did wonderful things for the people around her. She made the sick well again. The heavens opened above her and the sun shone down upon her and illumined the water, which came up around her and engulfed her until she came to paradise. She could not understand the dream because it was so unfamiliar to her world. She could only ache inside after she awoke from this dream (and try to forget it).

As the people approached the clearing, hearts began to wax heavy and hardly a speck of joyful anticipation remained, despite the sport of the thing. It always happened this way. The excitement at first faded as they got nearer the gardens of Gragon.

The people were mainly fair; some olive skinned, with light, red or dark hair. Generally their eyes were light in color. The fashion of the day: variations on the gunnysack theme. They ranged in age from infant to a small number of aged. Health and beauty did not last long, but there was white hair amongst them. One was a man named Began. He was known for his visions and dreams, many of which had come true. Though the priestess did not give him much honor, she found his wave came and destroyed the village. He assumed this meant doom for the people, but wasn’t sure if it was going to be a fireball from the sky, a dramatic weather change, or an attack by another tribe.

At the clearing, a modicum of ancient architecture was visible. Columns on all corners of a pool reflected Greek styles. In the distance lay the pool that the priestess bathed and frolicked in according to her fancy, with whomever. The ritual was to take place in a large circle created by stones fitted into the ground with one point facing up. Across the circle were lines drawn in a white chalk, which crossed and intersected to create a shape that the people didn’t understand and never bothered to think about. Only the priestess knew the meaning.

As the people gathered around the circle, the King was brought in by several men and placed in its center. Several of the priestess’ choice young men – rugged, muscular and attractive, with striped face paint of white, blue and other colors, carried the King and held him down with metal hoops fitted around his ankles and pushed into the earth. He went with no protest, but his expression was that of horror and dismay. Nearby the fires were started and the plates were stacked and ready for use.

When everything was ready, the priestess appeared from her chamber where she had been praying to Gragon for a new king to be presented for marriage to the goddess of nature. She also had been worshipping her cat Duana. Duana was slender with green eyes and a sleek coat of gray.

As she approached the circle all the villagers moved to the other side of the circle. They groaned and sighed with awe as everyone was amazed (as always) at how she managed to titillate them yet give them feelings of fear and revulsion along with an odd respect.

If she was beautiful they didn’t want to know it. She wore a long white dress in a Greek style that clung to her and showed the contours of a voluptuous body. Her hair fell shiny and lustrous against the sides of her body – black hair adorned with gold braids. She looked like an Egyptian or a Greek goddess except that her skin was very pale. Her eyes were dark and painted. Her lips were painted black. Her eyes were too frightening to look into. She was far too dangerously seductive. She didn’t mind if women wanted her as much as men. It was her desire to make everyone desire her.

In spite of all this, on this day one could detect a slight nervousness in her behavior. Something said that she, of all people, was afraid!

She pulled out the special blade used for the ritual. The people gasped. What she began the men who served her would finish. She raised the blade to her lips and kissed it. The kiss was the kiss of death. The king cringed as he thought of the pain that would ensue.

A wind rose at one moment out of nowhere. She looked around and drew back. Her bosom heaved as she breathed heavily. The old man, Began, stepped closer to the front of the crowd. “Your highness,” he chirped, “I have had a dream.”
“I know,” she cried, “I know.” She paused and turned away from the king. “A dream of our destruction. I have had the dream,” she declared angrily, swinging the blade back down to her side and stamping her foot.

The wind got stronger and the people began to cough from the dust. The king closed his eyes in relief. The priestess looked up at the sky and her face showed that she was certain that something was coming to destroy them. The wind rose and swirled so heavily, some grabbed onto trees or anything they could. The priestess merely stood her ground and waited, her hands now both clutching the blade. Her men stood by as well, holding more intently onto their weapons. It looked as though they expected to continue, because the winds would soon die. The wind made its frightening and chilling whistles.

The priestess began to howl, “I feel it coming. It’s powerful, it’s so powerful. Oh god. Gragon, help. Gragon help me.”

The winds began to die down a little, but the priestess began to breath faster and faster and her men began to feel afraid too. The people of the village could not move from where they were though they wanted to run. They felt it too. There was something powerful, terrifying, impossible to describe, and it was impossible to predict what was going to happen. When the winds died down the only sound left was the sound of fearful breathing.

The people looked up at a hill just beyond the circle and several said, “look.” Three men stood before them. They had no weapons, no armor. They stood before them in plain and simple garments. They had brown or black curly, long hair and their beards were scruffy. They were olive skinned and their eyes were brown, like the people of the southern kingdom. So startled were the people at their innocuous appearance that the initial reaction was relief. But when the men moved closer to the circle, an incredible power came in and pressed upon the priestess and her men. The blade in her hand flew and landed upright in the ground. The blades that the young men held also went flying out of their hands and flew far into the area with the pool. The sound of the blades falling terrified the people.

At that moment, the priestess knew she had met her match. The power began to take over as the men approached the crowd, moving in offensively. The priestess grabbed her throat as something was pounding within it. The pounding in her ears was like a resounding drum. A dramatic moment ensued as the priestess, her men, and the whole village fell onto the ground, some convulsing, and some crying out. The king screamed from his position. The man in the center of the three, the one with more aggression and confidence, went to the king and removed his bonds. The king bowed to him.

Many of the people stopped flying around in their epileptic response, laying flat on the ground and sobbing. The priestess, now laying in a place on leaves and grass beneath the trees, let out a scream so horrifying that no one could forget it for the rest of their days. She continued to scream so that no one could bear it. The man who seemed to be in charge came to her and said, “be silent and come out of her,” and at that very instant she fell down as if dead, while he watched her for a few moments. “Woman, arise,” he said. Her eyes opened, she jerked herself away and got within a little distance of him. She looked down at herself, still panting. “Who are you,” she wailed. “Who are you?”

Most of the people were lying down and sobbing. They quieted down as she spoke.

The man looked at her and she realized that his eyes were unbearable. Lasers leapt from his eyes. She fell back from even trying to look at them. She struggled to her feet to try to get a better look. He wasn’t handsome. No, he was not what you would describe as handsome but that was not to say that looking at him was not appealing. It was just different. He was altogether different from anyone she had ever seen. His face was plain, but his body was very muscular. His hands were wonderful and strong. He had a curious effect on the priestess. He was disturbing, but his presence was also compelling. She felt confused at first.

He had released her from a power that had been in her life, and it felt wonderful, but her weak soul felt a type of fear she had never felt, and it wasn’t welcome.

“I am who I am,” was his answer. His words rolled out authoritatively and echoed. He gave the priestess a sense of relief and safety but at the same time, his authority and power were intrusive. Yet, she felt she could not deny it. It was a new reality to contend with, like it or not!

‘”Who is that?” she said.
“I am the one you have waited for.”
“The one,” she pondered.
“The king of another land,” he added.
She demanded, “ I asked for a new king, but it can’t be YOU.”
“Oh, but it is. I am the new king,” he answered.
“Why have you come to us if you are the king of a distant land?” she queried.
“My people have rejected me,” he sighed. ‘And I have sought those who are not my people.
“You want us?” she keened. “You are not like any man we have ever seen.”
“I am not just a man,” he answered.
“You are greater than Gragon, aren’t you?” she asked.
“Yes, I am.”
“Woman, today I have forgiven you of all your sins. Go and sin no more. I will be with you always.”

Chapter 2

It was the next day.

The whole village was gathered at the shores of a beautiful lake. That day, the sun was shining as it rarely does. It was warm, the sun was high in the sky, and there were no clouds and not a drop of rain.

The three men in the water stood out a ways from the people, and their new king spoke.

“The kingdom has come upon you. As you enter the waters, I want to remind you that you have offered your lives as a living sacrifice, and my father has received you. The waters are a symbol of your cleansing from sin. I now baptize you in the name of the Father, the Son and of the Spirit.

The people began to enter the water and each one got pushed under. The priestess entered the waters. The king prayed for her and she went under. Something exploded the moment the waters went over her, and as she rose out of the water her face pointed towards the sun. She felt the power and light of the sun enter her being. It was not just the sun; it was light that had great power.

She kept staring into heaven as everyone else, still overwhelmed by tumultuous change, left the water. She lifted her hands out of the water and raised them to the heavens, her joy overflowing as the water rushed from her hands. Her black hair shone in the light, and all the paint was dripping from her face as she wept.

“My dream, my dream. I could never have imagined it coming true!” she cried out, even screamed into the blues, whites, yellows and pinks of the day, where she had seldom lived and where she had never relished beauty, delicacy or life before.

She splashed around in the water and began to laugh like a little girl. Her face now cleared of all its paint was still young.

As she came out of the water she looked around at the flowers and at passing birds. She held the corner of her garment and skipped along like a little girl, talking to herself as a child.

When she came back to the village, the people backed off and went into their crude homes. Her head began to drop as she was reminded of the reparations that would be necessary for her to begin life in company with the people. Her mood changed a great deal as she headed back to the lake where she sat down again and looked out towards it. From deep within came a cry of humble and anguished regret. She cried out loud and her voice echoed into the air above the lake. She lay face down and wept for at least one hour, asking for forgiveness. She fell asleep and dreamt again. This time she had nightmares. She had never had nightmares before, except as a child. In her dream, Gragon was now chasing her relentlessly.

Chapter 3


When she awoke, her dreams were hard to banish, but the new reality she was living seemed even brighter as her mind became clear.

She went into the village to search for the king.
“Where is our king?” she asked impishly.
“He has left, but his men have stayed,” replied one of the young men that served her in her court.
“Oh, look. You have found it too, I can tell,” the priestess cooed.
“I have. The king may return to us.”
The priestess walked towards an area where the people were gathered around a fire. The two men who had accompanied the new king were talking.

“This will not be such as easy path for you, but you find victory if you do not lose heart. You need to look back on your lives and see where you have sinned and make confession. If you need to confess to someone else you can come to us. You may need to make amends where you have wronged someone else and ask for their forgiveness. If they do not forgive you, you have done your part. Our king is still with us in spirit.

The priestess looked baffled. “The king has left us. He said he would be with me always. “She stared at the group for a while then went home to her palace.

In the light of day stood the little hut belonging to the couple whom had their lives torn apart by the priestess. Crickets and insects buzzed as the sun briefly penetrated the clouds and shone upon the little hut. The priestess stood in front of it waiting for the woman to appear. Shortly, the woman did open the door, but went cold when she saw the priestess. The priestess spoke weakly with shame.

“I came to ask you to…to…”
The woman came out in front of her. The priestess fell to the ground and let out a wail and begged her forgiveness. The woman looked down at her and retreated into her hut without a word.

“I understand, but you must try to forgive, someday…” the priestess moaned.

She arose feeling somewhat defeated and returned home. It was the first time that she noticed how the gardens had been sacked by the storms. Recognizing that it would take far too much work to clean up, she determined that the gardens of Gragon would simply be destroyed. She entered the chamber that had once been her temple, where the sun’s rays told the date and the time, and determined the rituals for particular days. She found her cat Duana sitting there. She saw that he was a tiny creature - that was all! He rolled on his back, throwing his paws into the air and beckoned her to play with him.

“Ha ha. Such a god you are!” she laughed wholeheartedly. From now on I am going to call you ‘Felice’ or ‘happy one’ as the southern people would call you. Hello, happy one.” She rubbed his stomach to his delight. Out in the gardens there came a terrifying snorting sound. It came from the gardens and she went to look. As she approached it the smell rose to her nostrils. There it was amidst the debris: a large, slimy reptile with dark green, scaly skin, large teeth and smoke rising from its nostrils.

“Remember me?” came an obnoxious, mocking voice.
“No, who are you? She replied with fear.
“You worshipped me. You served me.”
“Gragon? You are Gragon?”
“Close. I’m actually Dragon. I’ve been called that by your, ah, new king.”
“You know the king?”
“Oh, we’ve been acquainted.”
“You aren’t the all powerful god.”
“Well, I was hopeful,” he replied, chuckling with embarrassment.
“I thought you were the great spirit. You lied to me. You’re nothing more than a huge, revolting reptile.”
“Oh, a lot more could be said for me than that! I have numerous disguises and wreak havoc on earth.”
“Oh, really. Well let me tell you something, Gragon. I live to destroy the work you have done to destroy my life and the lives of others. You will stay out of my way!”
“Oh, you can try keeping me at bay. We’ll see,” he slobbered.
“Get thee behind me!” ordered, and stormed out. Her cat got to his feet and followed her.

She went into the village and searched for Began. Upon finding him, she waited to see his response. Seeing the attitude of acceptance in his eyes, she went to him and they embraced followed by tears.

“ I must call the people together. I have something to say to them,” she announced.

Chapter 4

It was evening and the people gathered together around a fire as Began took the lead. He announced the priestess’ intentions and then beckoned her to come forward to speak her mind, or heart.

“We have all been changed. I am a new person and so are all of you,” she proclaimed.

The people whispered to one another.

“I have come to ask forgiveness for all I have done to you.”

There were cries and hushed responses. The priestess bent down before them, placing her hands in front of her, pleading for forgiveness. She stayed in that position and would not leave for about an hour.

Eventually, each member of the village came and laid something down in front of her. She looked up and found herself surrounded by little bunches of violets and heather. She looked heavenward.

In the back of the crowd stood a scowling man, hiding behind a hooded garment. He would have none of this. He left the crowd and disappeared deep into the woods where he met his cohorts. As he removed his hood his face revealed that he was one of the former members of the priestess’ court. The poison that had entered his blood during a lifetime of service to her and to Gragon had not left. He could not be more offended or repelled by what was happening to the priestess and the rest of the village. He had a bitter taste in his mouth that was not satisfied.

“Now she’s asking for forgiveness,” he taunted.
“What next,” cackled a woman in the group?

The group huddled together to discuss their strategy to bring back the days of Gragon. Thus we can see the root off the greatest betrayal and evil the world has ever or will ever know.

The people of the village went to work to tear down the gardens of Gragon. Able-bodied men, many of them former members of the priestess’ court, began to unearth the stone structures that made up the temple.

During most days, the priestess could be found in the tiny hut where the King’s men were staying. There she learned many things about these amazing people that the King belonged to. She learned about their history and their sacred writings. She loved to recite verses from their ancient text, especially about the King being her shepherd and taking care of all her needs, and about bringing her beside still waters and into green pastures.

She would remember her dream and would see violets in the green pastures.

“Like apples of gold in settings of silver; so is a word spoken at the right moment,” she recited.

After these sessions she always felt inspired and energetic and set out to find ways to make others around her happy.

Initially the village gathered together and brought every single article of their superstitious and cultic beliefs and burned them. As they did, horrible screams and cries went out from the burning pyre. Some saws scorpions and serpents slither away. When the priestess publicly disposed of the articles of her witchcraft, the sights and sounds were unbearable. Many of the people ran as far away as they could and covered their eyes and ears. The priestess had to have more than one burning as she continued to find more and more articles that had been tucked away in her lodgings.

Many people required anointing with oils that had been specially prepared. Into this oil the healing power of the King’s spirit was imbued through prayer. The people required prayer for healing of their bodies, their minds and their emotions.

Many felt the need for a multitude of confessions before one another and these were usually accompanied by deep sobbing.

In the evenings the village gathered for prayer and the singing of scriptural songs. They sang simple tunes on crude instruments. One of the couples began to write many of these songs expressing joy and purity in all areas of life.
They would get up and dance together in circles and tell one another of the ways their lives had begun to change. They also noticed they had a greater desire for bodily cleanliness and many felt that their sexual impurities needed to be cleansed.

Clothing was already becoming cleaner, more dignified and modest.

Chapter 5

One morning, very early before dawn, the priestess was found frantically putting some of her belongings together. She was then summoned by a group of men from the King’s land that was taking her a long distance away. They advised her to pretend that she was the wife of one of them and to dress so that her face and body were well hidden.

They were taking her to the capital city of the King’s land. There was talk of the King being put to death. This was unthinkable and unbearable to the priestess, however she had always been able to stop things that were against her will. She was being told there was nothing she could do, but it was impossible for her to forget the days when she could have whatever she desired. Somehow she had to stop the King’s death.

The journey was not what she imagined. She had never before journeyed beyond her island. It took endless days and nights. The men set up tents and one man had to share the tent with her. He posed as her husband, and merely shared the tent without even talking with or looking at her. It was hard traveling with men and having female troubles, but these men were not like any others she had ever known, these olive toned men from the King’s land. The caravan went south and then east, passing through strange cultures that were frightening to the priestess. Fear! It was something new to the priestess, something the King taught her. It was a new kind of fear. Always she hid her face from men, hiding her beauty like something that could be used as a terrible pawn in someone’s game.

As they neared the King’s land, something of awe welled up inside her as she became aware that this place did not belong to just anybody. Who were the King’s people? All she knew was relief knowing they had existed all along. She saw sheepherders who reminded her of the ancestor who had written the psalm about green pastures. As they approached the area in which the King’s death was to take place, the climate became less friendly. There had been good weather most of the way, but the weather began to look unfriendly as the Friday of his doom approached. Still she asked herself if there was a way she could stop this. The day came when to see him at all, even at his execution seemed fortunate. They were in the territory of the crude method of killing, and were making their way along the path the King had trudged to his execution. The priestess became even more disturbed as she observed the attitudes of the people along the way, mocking even her and her party for wanting to go see him at his last hour. She remembered his words, “my people have rejected me, their living water, their bread of life.”

Past the earthen clay dwellings and goats and smells of the city she went. Past the sneering, imbibing men, and past a thousand faces that did not care or understand how this thing could be. “If the King dies, we are all doomed to perish forever,” she thought. “He is our only hope.”

As they made their way further, the sky darkened and the wind blew mercilessly. She remembered the wind on that day when the King first came to their island. She screamed. At the top of the hill one could see the lines of the crude boards set up as crosses, one next to the other, and already she could see dying bodies on them and could smell the unbearable stink of death. She remembered the various forms of torture and punishment once practiced in her village. She had lost her taste for it. She had never seen this type of cruelty. The power demonstrated by the southern people she had once encountered in her home was much greater than she had realized. The southern people had mostly left her people alone. She had no idea they dominated the entire world, or exercised such oppressive power over the people of the earth.

Gragon also controlled this kingdom of the south to a large degree. That is something that the priestess had come to recognize, like it or not. At first she wondered if she had been wrong about Gragon, if he was actually more powerful or the one true god. But she remembered the King explaining that his own kingdom was beyond this world, and though it may not seem to be so, he ultimately ruled the universe. He also promised that she would see him manifest more of his power, someday. He assured her that the kingdoms of this world rise and fall, that all men soon die with nothing except what they have in the next life, and no matter how big their roar, they would ultimately yield their power.

She finally found the cross that her King had been viciously strapped and stapled to, in an area with just two other crosses. Prostrated before him were several women who also knew him – prostrated and in tears.

The priestess had not been prepared for what she found on that dark and dreadful Friday. Before her, on that cross, the body of her King was impaled like a frog impaled by future generations of children in a science experiment. Of all the cruelty she had inflicted upon human beings, she had never seen anything as grotesque as what she saw before her. She had never imagined what it would be like if a man had every bit of life drained from his body, after severe beatings, a crown made of thorns upon his head, and large nails driven into his hands and feet. Lastly, the blood and water had poured from his side as a spear was thrust into him. She dropped to her knees and screamed with piercing cries so loud that soldiers headed towards her to stop it. “No,” she cried out, “no, you cannot die, King, you cannot die.”

One of the King’s men came to comfort her before the soldiers reached her, but she pushed him away as her eyes stared at this thing that seared her with a horrible reality. “Our only hope is dead.” She pleaded with him, “No, King, no. It cannot be, it cannot be.”

The man who held her up said, “it must be.”
She pushed him away again.
“He will come back to life,” he assured her.
“I don’t believe you. Look at him. He is dead. He is dead,” she wailed, and asked only to bury her head and cry. She eventually watched as two women somberly watched below his feet, especially the older one who seemed peaceful in her sorrow. She wondered at this, but continued to cry as the man held her.

Chapter 6

The priestess stood on the top of the hill overlooking her village. She wore lavender and looked ravishing. She looked clean, full of joy and full of life.

She came down the hill to her people and they all rejoiced to see her return. As she came nearer she screamed,” he is alive. He is alive forevermore!” The whole village cheered and clapped their hands.

“I have seen him alive again along with many others! He showed us his hands and the scars that were left. It was he,” she assured them.

The priestess was called upon one morning to visit the woman who would not forgive her – now dying of a strange disease. Her body was covered with red, hairy patches. The priestess asked everyone to leave her alone with the woman. After prayer and laying her hands on the woman, unafraid of the disease, the woman rose and was able to eat for the first time in months. Everyone cheered and word was spreading that the priestess was healing people in the name of the King. The woman was so overjoyed with the love offered to her that she forgave the priestess. They actually embraced for the first time and the people began to weep with joy.

Began was next. He had taken ill and was healed through the priestess’ touch. On and on it went. She was celebrated in territories throughout the islands, and many sought her also for spiritual advice. Her village was being looked at as the center for learning and healing, and was being visited by many souls in search of help.

Many were marrying in the manner taught by the King, but the priestess declared that she could not love just an ordinary man after being loved by that most amazing man. She also said she preferred her life lived with animals and a life of service to others. She declared that touching others to heal them was touching enough.

Then one day a man came to visit. She immediately recognized him as one of the men of her court. He looked worlds different. He was now free of face paint, and the hard edge that his face seemed to carry had been replaced by a softer look that agreed with him. She thought of him as handsome, but didn’t think about that much anymore, nor did it matter much to her. She knew his reputation as a man who now belonged to the King. He had many qualities that she admired. When he arrived he handed her an animal she didn’t recognize at first because he had made some miniature clothes just for him, similar to those made for a baby. He had established a new profession as a tailor. The animal looked so hilarious she immediately laughed. It was her cat ‘Felice.’

“I thought you would enjoy that!” he chuckled.
“Oh, he looks so positively cute,” she cooed. “You made these?”
“Yes,” he replied.

After tea and biscuits at her summer table, she sadly explained that she didn’t think it was possible for her to marry. He made his way sadly along the path that left her cottage, as he bid her goodbye.

Chapter 7

The priestess lived the rest of her days in her thatched roofed house made by the people of the village with a small adjoining farm where she kept all of her beloved animals. People came from places far away to visit her quite regularly. The love she was given and the love she was able to give were beyond anything she had ever dreamed of. Of course, she eventually married the man who made clothes for Felice. She felt it was important that no one should think that to follow the King one should live too austerely, or arrogantly, denying themselves the sweet joys of an intimate relationship. She declared that these do teach us to be simple, sweet, and loving and help to incorporate the most important qualities within us.

She enjoyed the new experience of sexual passion in this relationship, and knew it was something she could never have experienced as a pagan priestess. She found that physical passion and enjoyment – a man’s body and hers entwined while being imbued with the fire of love for that person was something that she could never have discovered without having first discovered her King.

Her gardens flourished with all manner of purple, lavender, violet and heather. Later in life she was told that purple was being named as the official symbol of the King’s passion on the cross. She thought of how she had loved that color for so long, never knowing that there was a profound reason.

She died in peace. She at last joined her King forever.

A small congregation met on a sunny Sunday on the same island in a tiny, ancient, stone sanctuary that had been built shortly after the priestess’ life became amazing. It was now many years after the priestess’ death. These are the words of their song:

And did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon England's mountain green?
And was the holy Lamb of God
On England's pleasant pastures seen?
And did the countenance divine
Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
And was Jerusalem builded here
Among those dark satanic mills?

Bring me my bow of burning gold!
Bring me my arrows of desire!
Bring me my spear! O clouds, unfold!
Bring me my chariot of fire!
I will not cease from mental fight,
Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand,
Till we have built Jerusalem
In England's green and pleasant land.

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