Read The Faith of Angels Page 4

Chapter 3

  To Watch

  I think I was jealous of Ace then, when I saw his devotion to Christ. But I decided I wouldn’t be, and that was the end of that. Naturally I wondered if all dragons thought of Christ the same way. With a little move of my head, I made a question out of it for him. He regarded me and then surprised me by the simple act of looking away from me for the first time.

  He lifted up his head and his deep golden eyes, eyes like pools of liquid so deep eternity fell into them, and reverently looked up towards heaven. I was about to wonder why I hadn’t noticed that much about his eyes when a profound smile settled on his face. As he smiled, he gathered to himself a nobility I have never in all my life seen. It didn’t come upon him all at once, either. Rather it built up in stages, but in less than half a minute, he transformed himself into a creature of such great dignity and honor that only in heaven, glorified and standing next to God, would I ever have any hope of comparing myself to him.

  Unexpectedly he closed his eyes and the next thing I knew, we were in a huge cathedral like cavern multiple times larger than the area where Ace and I were alone. To my astonishment, surrounding us were more dragons, all as majestic as he. They were all looking up, like Ace, except he still had his eyes closed. Without question, every single dragon was enraptured in worship to God. It had to be the glory of the Lord shinning on their faces—nothing else could be this spectacular. Their worship of God radiated with such profound magnificence that it weighed upon me with a pressure I could feel.

  Not one of them glanced at me, though I felt certain they all knew I was there. I was so stunned by their worship it took a while before the dissimilarity between their colors became significant. Each of the dragons was a different color. I noticed a yellow one, and one a deeper green than Ace. I also saw dark and light blue, silver and red. There were other colors too, but then Ace opened his eyes and like a switch, all the other dragons disappeared. We were alone again back in the smaller cavern. I hadn’t wanted to leave the other dragons—why in the world had Ace taken us away?

  He imparted,—You are not yet ready to meet with many.

  Why would anyone want to kill such beautiful creatures anyway? I thought, could it have been self-defense?

  Ace quickly corrected me,—Men feared us. Especially our communication.

  As if highlighted by flames I saw the incendiary effect the dragon’s style of communication had on fearful men. Especially when those same men were told by the dragons to serve God. Reacting with fear and unbelief, they turned on the dragons and vilified them. I shook my head in sadness. I could see why the dragons had fled.

  Ace lowered his head and sadness came upon him. For a brief moment he didn’t look at me. When he returned his gaze, some of the sorrow had left.

  —We may not procreate while we are hiding in the overlap.

  I don’t know why, but the first thing I wondered is, how many dragons would be a complete population?

  Ace conveyed,—We never had time on earth.

  Without even meaning to, I asked myself, how do dragons gestate?

  —One egg is formed.

  Then it crossed my mind, how old do dragons get before they die?

  Ace lowered his head and narrowed his eyes as he instilled,—We don’t die unless we’re killed.

  My internal dialogue sort of stalled when he revealed that but I quickly recovered and said, “Does that mean the dragons have eternal life?”

  —It’s not the same kind that you think.

  The only thing I could think was, how couldn’t it be?

  Ace’s expression showed me he couldn’t figure out whether I was ignorant, insensitive or just rude. I’m not sure what he decided.

  He expressed,—The eternal life God gives man is immortality. You can’t die once you’re immortal. Ours is only until death.

  When it finally sank in, it smote my heart and I pitied the dragons. The baldness of it cut deep. I cried out in my heart to God. As unexpectedly as lightning striking from a clear sky, God said, “My son, the dragons are as Adam was in the beginning.”

  It happened so fast I didn’t even react. I knew enough not to look around to see who spoke, it being infinitely obvious who had, as it was equally obvious he had projected his voice into the cavern. But in that moment, I was more surprised than I’ve ever been in my life. Then my identity disintegrated before my eyes and dissolved into the infinite ocean of God’s presence. It felt as if I ceased to exist as the presence of the great I Am engulfed me. His visitation reduced me to the point of being aware—only of him. He overwhelmed my awareness the way a supernova would overwhelm a match.

  Yet most potent of all was awakening to the truth of how intensely I recognized him. That was most potent of all. If you think you can recognize your parent’s voice, or your spouse’s voice or your child’s voice, that’s nothing. I recognized God’s voice at least a trillion times better than I have ever recognized anyone. Proving without a doubt that he knew me before he created me in my mother’s womb.

  None of which even hints at the infinite goodness that is his presence! Man knows not the happiness there will be to lose ourselves in the vastness of the great I Am, and his goodness. We don’t know! It can only be known by tasting and seeing that yes . . . the Lord is infinitely, infinitely good!

  How it broke my heart that his presence lingered only as long as a majestic roll of thunder. Yet at the same time, I was so thrilled to have been blessed by his visitation, I couldn’t be sad. It’d be useless to even try. The peace saturating me refused to allow it.

  Sometime during the astonishing encounter I had stopped looking at Ace. Remembering him, I looked back. He wore an expression that reminded me so much of my earthly father that it took me by surprise. It was the paternal concern that surprised me. In that moment, I realized Ace had a spot in his heart for me. Naturally I felt caught in a paradox. I, the less fragile creature, being cared for by the more fragile.

  And then Ace laughed. And let me tell you, if you’ve never been at ground zero when a dragon laughs, it—is—intense. His head went way back and his mouth opened a good 75 feet, and a huge roaring staccato-like buzz emanated from his throat. It was good and deafening too, like a decent clap of thunder. When it finally sub-sided, he lowered his head and closed his mouth at the same time. Returning his gaze to me, he looked happy.

  I almost couldn’t believe he just laughed. I was dumbstruck. Remembering he didn’t like it when I just stared, I rifled my mind for something appropriate to say.

  Ace beat me to it and projected,—Only men can be born again. Sweeping his gaze over the chamber he imparted,—The rest of creation has solely been redeemed.

  I thought, if things didn’t get weirder they wouldn’t change at all.

  Ace looked at me as if I had slighted him. —Why weird?

  His frankness compelled me to be honest. “Because life never prepared me for something like this.”

  —You seem to be managing.

  He had me. The Holy Spirit reminded me that God gives us the strength to do what he leads us to do. I got the distinct feeling that God was looking over my shoulder. Fortunately, it wasn’t humiliating to be contradicted this way. Be that as it may, I wanted to find out more about his relationship with God.

  “So, you’ve heard his voice before?”

  In humble definition, a supremely satisfied smile animated Ackseekcelong-Sayessa’s face. He gazed at me with that expression a few seconds, as if he was reminiscing, then silently imparted,—Only a few times, but it is enough.

  I wondered what the conversations had been about, if that’s what you’d call them, but thought it better to mind my own business. A desire to find out how old he was rose up in me so I asked, “How old are you, Ace?”

  He looked at me and smiled.

  —We are the only creatures Adam didn’t name.

  Whoa . . . now that was an incredibly long time ago. “Does that
mean you were alive back then?”

  —Yes.

  I wondered why Adam didn’t name the dragons but didn’t want to ask him, in case it might offend him. He understood my question and wasn’t offended, revealing this by calmly answering the question I didn’t ask.

  —He didn’t name us because the Lord named us. The Lord also assigned us to watch. It is our appointment and office.