Posted: Sun Jun 07, 2009 2:24 am
August 15, 1986 3:17am
The desert was hot. Hot and bright, and I lay under the sun on a stone and felt like I was baking alive. Four days had gone by and nothing. Nothing. Just the slow languish of late summer in the Arizona desert. By that time, I knew my family was probably beside themselves with worry. I’d never just openly defied my parents before, but the pull of the Father could not be denied. I had to go out there. Out there to that very place. And yet, by the 5th day nothing had happened. I waited and baked, thinking about the trouble I was going to be in when I finally went home. I sat up and doused myself with more water. I was running out of it. Running out of a lot of things. I wondered if I should just pack up and go home.
“Would you go before the message was delivered?” I heard a voice say. I looked around and saw no one. I swallowed down some water so I could speak.
“Where are you?” I asked aloud. No answer. I stood up and walked around the stone slab I had been laying on, looking in all directions. The sun was blinding and my eyes saw only dark spots that swirled around in front of my vision.
“Well?” I heard it again. There was a note of irritation in it.
“No. I will not go before I’ve heard it.” I answered then. “I have been waiting.”
“You thought of going.” I couldn’t tell if the voice was male or female, it sounded like both, like it was a chorus of voices actually. In such complete unison that it became one.
“Forgive me. I am not going.”
No answer. The desert was silent again. I looked around, still seeing no one. Just the dark spots in front of my eyes. I drank down more water. A breeze blew by me then and with it came the scent of roses. I smiled at the smell. Then, the Father’s presence overwhelmed me and I was enveloped in His grace. I went to my knees and upturned my gaze full force into the sun. I felt, what can only be described as a hand, lay on the top of my head and gently turn my gaze away from the sun and over to my left. And there he was. The angel. And he looked like me, as he always did when I saw him. But, his face conveyed remorse, as though he had been weeping. His eyes wild, his hair disheveled, his remnant rumpled. He came at me urgently, the Father’s presence grew stronger and the Hand moved to my shoulder. I remained on my knees.
“Stephen.” The angel said, his voice strong and strained. He moved to stand before me and I looked up at him. “Stephen. The path you have chosen is wrong.” He stressed the word “wrong” as though it pained him to speak it.
“Wrong? How can that be? I have chosen to serve the Father…” He held up a hand to silence me. The Hand on my shoulder gripped tighter.
“The manner of service is wrong. You will help no one. There will not be time.” His sorrow rippled over his remnant as though it were a tangible breeze. “Do you hear? No one. Time will not be in abundance for you.”
I nodded then. “I know.” I whispered. “I have always known.” And his sorrow began to overwhelm me. “How long?”
“Not.” He said, his voice close to weeping. “The path, the course, the way…your way must alter.”
“Where must I go? If not to the Church, then where?”
“The world.” He replied. “What will come, is now coming. Soon, you will know the way of how it will be for you.” And his weeping began. “I will hold you. I will help. But you, must hold as well. His strength will be yours, if you hold.” The Hand gripped even tighter, and I wept then as well.
“I will hold until my last breath.” I wept. “Father! Thy will be done! It is all I strive to do, all I wish to be. Your vessel, Your messenger. Show me how best I am to Your work!” His hand left my shoulder, and the angel held out his hand to me then. I took it and he lifted me to my feet. I gazed into the mirror of my own eyes. They wept.
He drew me to him and embraced me. I felt the sorrow radiating through him. “The way, at times, will be unbearable. Look to the Most High, and draw from the deep well of His grace. You will not be abandoned. It will come soon, Stephen. The great ordeal of your existence. But the time of it, will be minute, weighed against the eternity that awaits you. Accept this?”
“Yes.” I whispered into his shoulder. He kissed the top of my head then and grace flooded through me and the sorrow left me. As did he. And I was once again alone in the desert. Down I went, down to my knees and held my face in my hands. My weeping came in gasps, sobs, I hugged at my chest and rocked back and forth, like a lost child.
“Do not linger!” The voices that spoke as one shouted. “Time is not in abundance for you.”
And so, I stood. I stood and packed up my gear and threw it in the jeep. How I made it back home, I will never know. I was just suddenly pulling into the driveway. My father was standing in the doorway. His face portraying the anger and relief I knew he felt in that moment. I sat and stared back at him, then got out.
Now, I pen this in my room. The angry words over with, the tears shed. I took it all, because I knew I deserved it. Grounded for, well quite awhile, my jeep taken away, no phone..etc. All deserved. It was Tracie who finally asked what at no one else seemed to be able too. “What happened, Stevie?” She, my beautiful sister, knew something life changing had happened. I knew she knew it, because her eyes never left mine as the yelling and crying had gone on. Her face was shining with understanding and patience.
I smiled at her then. “I was given a new path to follow. I was told that the one I had chosen was not the right one. I will not pursue the priesthood. There won’t be enough time.”
And all she did was nod. She knew, as she always knows. “I told them you were alright.” She said then. “I would have known if you weren’t.”
“I know.”
I hugged her then. My sister, my best friend. Tracie. She will be the one. Through all of it, it will be her that sustains me. “It’s coming, Stephen. Isn’t it?”
“Yes, Tracie. But I am not afraid.”
“I am.”
Maybe I am too. What comes will come. Fear will only make it harder for me to endure it. He had said, “The great ordeal of your existence.” But, he had also said. “the time of it, will be minute, weighed against the eternity that awaits you.” I draw strength from such affirmations.
The desert was hot. Hot and bright, and I lay under the sun on a stone and felt like I was baking alive. Four days had gone by and nothing. Nothing. Just the slow languish of late summer in the Arizona desert. By that time, I knew my family was probably beside themselves with worry. I’d never just openly defied my parents before, but the pull of the Father could not be denied. I had to go out there. Out there to that very place. And yet, by the 5th day nothing had happened. I waited and baked, thinking about the trouble I was going to be in when I finally went home. I sat up and doused myself with more water. I was running out of it. Running out of a lot of things. I wondered if I should just pack up and go home.
“Would you go before the message was delivered?” I heard a voice say. I looked around and saw no one. I swallowed down some water so I could speak.
“Where are you?” I asked aloud. No answer. I stood up and walked around the stone slab I had been laying on, looking in all directions. The sun was blinding and my eyes saw only dark spots that swirled around in front of my vision.
“Well?” I heard it again. There was a note of irritation in it.
“No. I will not go before I’ve heard it.” I answered then. “I have been waiting.”
“You thought of going.” I couldn’t tell if the voice was male or female, it sounded like both, like it was a chorus of voices actually. In such complete unison that it became one.
“Forgive me. I am not going.”
No answer. The desert was silent again. I looked around, still seeing no one. Just the dark spots in front of my eyes. I drank down more water. A breeze blew by me then and with it came the scent of roses. I smiled at the smell. Then, the Father’s presence overwhelmed me and I was enveloped in His grace. I went to my knees and upturned my gaze full force into the sun. I felt, what can only be described as a hand, lay on the top of my head and gently turn my gaze away from the sun and over to my left. And there he was. The angel. And he looked like me, as he always did when I saw him. But, his face conveyed remorse, as though he had been weeping. His eyes wild, his hair disheveled, his remnant rumpled. He came at me urgently, the Father’s presence grew stronger and the Hand moved to my shoulder. I remained on my knees.
“Stephen.” The angel said, his voice strong and strained. He moved to stand before me and I looked up at him. “Stephen. The path you have chosen is wrong.” He stressed the word “wrong” as though it pained him to speak it.
“Wrong? How can that be? I have chosen to serve the Father…” He held up a hand to silence me. The Hand on my shoulder gripped tighter.
“The manner of service is wrong. You will help no one. There will not be time.” His sorrow rippled over his remnant as though it were a tangible breeze. “Do you hear? No one. Time will not be in abundance for you.”
I nodded then. “I know.” I whispered. “I have always known.” And his sorrow began to overwhelm me. “How long?”
“Not.” He said, his voice close to weeping. “The path, the course, the way…your way must alter.”
“Where must I go? If not to the Church, then where?”
“The world.” He replied. “What will come, is now coming. Soon, you will know the way of how it will be for you.” And his weeping began. “I will hold you. I will help. But you, must hold as well. His strength will be yours, if you hold.” The Hand gripped even tighter, and I wept then as well.
“I will hold until my last breath.” I wept. “Father! Thy will be done! It is all I strive to do, all I wish to be. Your vessel, Your messenger. Show me how best I am to Your work!” His hand left my shoulder, and the angel held out his hand to me then. I took it and he lifted me to my feet. I gazed into the mirror of my own eyes. They wept.
He drew me to him and embraced me. I felt the sorrow radiating through him. “The way, at times, will be unbearable. Look to the Most High, and draw from the deep well of His grace. You will not be abandoned. It will come soon, Stephen. The great ordeal of your existence. But the time of it, will be minute, weighed against the eternity that awaits you. Accept this?”
“Yes.” I whispered into his shoulder. He kissed the top of my head then and grace flooded through me and the sorrow left me. As did he. And I was once again alone in the desert. Down I went, down to my knees and held my face in my hands. My weeping came in gasps, sobs, I hugged at my chest and rocked back and forth, like a lost child.
“Do not linger!” The voices that spoke as one shouted. “Time is not in abundance for you.”
And so, I stood. I stood and packed up my gear and threw it in the jeep. How I made it back home, I will never know. I was just suddenly pulling into the driveway. My father was standing in the doorway. His face portraying the anger and relief I knew he felt in that moment. I sat and stared back at him, then got out.
Now, I pen this in my room. The angry words over with, the tears shed. I took it all, because I knew I deserved it. Grounded for, well quite awhile, my jeep taken away, no phone..etc. All deserved. It was Tracie who finally asked what at no one else seemed to be able too. “What happened, Stevie?” She, my beautiful sister, knew something life changing had happened. I knew she knew it, because her eyes never left mine as the yelling and crying had gone on. Her face was shining with understanding and patience.
I smiled at her then. “I was given a new path to follow. I was told that the one I had chosen was not the right one. I will not pursue the priesthood. There won’t be enough time.”
And all she did was nod. She knew, as she always knows. “I told them you were alright.” She said then. “I would have known if you weren’t.”
“I know.”
I hugged her then. My sister, my best friend. Tracie. She will be the one. Through all of it, it will be her that sustains me. “It’s coming, Stephen. Isn’t it?”
“Yes, Tracie. But I am not afraid.”
“I am.”
Maybe I am too. What comes will come. Fear will only make it harder for me to endure it. He had said, “The great ordeal of your existence.” But, he had also said. “the time of it, will be minute, weighed against the eternity that awaits you.” I draw strength from such affirmations.
Thank you. 
And so, this is why my life's work is to see it ended. I'm not a researcher, but I am an activist and many of the organizations I belong too help fund the research and also, help the people with AIDS live better and longer lives. In some small way, I hope I make a difference. But, I'm only one person and this horrible disease is insipid and widespread...I feel inadequate sometimes. So very inadequate...
