I walked into trouble was I was 20. There was a woman involved and a young lady. The young lady was 18. Somehow conversation came easy. I was supposed to be visiting people around several-block-area and inviting to certain religious rites. But I got stalled up with the woman and her daughter. I took no particular fancy, but there were powers controlling and undeniable. I mixed my ethos with an energy and force greater than my own. The young lady had carried backpacks of money at 4 years old. For her mother. There was a sister, too, but she supported the older. It is maddening to try to remember, to reconcile, to understand. Events of life are difficult to piece. I would say, yes, when I meant to say, no, just because I couldn’t fathom a good enough excuse to be absent from obligation.
The girl looked at the sky at night. She studied law, then psychology at the university. Said the university told her there is no God. Whom did she believe? I did not know. She wanted myself and the guy I strode with to visit “for her brother.” And the relationship was an odd one. I saws signs in the heavens. There were emotions inexplicable. A sense of the supernatural. ALWAYS. And I had never tasted supernatural. It was sweet, but BITTER. The mother talked with her dead mother and heard her heels clacking at night. Her plants were her whole delight. And they claimed in the family that the oldest daughter and I had “chemistry.” I kept battling inside. Trying to be Anathema to God at the time, trying to thrust a picture of a girl I knew as though she were a “girlfriend”, but she wasn’t, and I had no picture.
We are supposed to be prepared in life for everything. “If we are prepared, we shall not fear.” But I was not prepared. I worked too fast. I allowed too little for “slow.” When supernatural began to take over, I didn’t find the powers and strength to resist, to instate other powers in its place, and retake my position. I lost battle after battle. Battles of Fury. Within myself, a grinding monster trying to break free from the powers that be.
And so, I couldn’t sleep. My thoughts couldn’t think. I walked in a daze as though controlled by the tug-and-pull emotional of that family. Dreading the day that I would be drawn back, but looking forward to the satisfactions that there were had. Ah…the allure of the dark and mysterious supernatural. Witchcraft in its full and effective fury.
I never understood and asked just why. The pulling of the strings the need to stop by. The mother said one time that she “prayed with a lot of faith, and every time she did so, I would show up.” There was more to it than that. But I don’t really know. And mistakes I made within these new parameters of puppetry. But I lean into the wind, put my head down, and trudge on. These are the Battles of Fury. This is Life. I don’t know much other, because I don’t remember. Too long have I been tied up in the Battles of Fury of Life. Like Snakes and Ladders and questioning each ladder whether to climb or refuse or each snake whether to pet or leave and walk away. But I stay. I stay in my parameters. I stay in my paradigm. It shifted entirely when I met them. And it never has been the same. I am a different creature now, than I was then. Maddening to many who knew me before, because I’m not the same as then. Before the artillery of supernatural/witchcraft in all its fury, struck me down.
The journey is long, but endurance pays well. Persevere to the end, I suppose, kept me out of hell. Well, brought me out again, I suppose. Hell gobbles whole. Release those bonds. Release those chains. We’ll probably all get caught some day. The hope to never is not quite real. But the hope to escape can become reality. Amos 5:19 speaks the truth of days we live in. We run from a lion right into a bear. We walk in the house, lean on the wall, and a serpent bites. Nothing we can do, only take flight. Try to outrun them all. Or die in the intent. May the heart be strong, courage a song, and the journey requited by heavenly throng.