Children of the Sanctuary

by David Pollitt

  Chapter 17

  Resurrection Journeys

  Paul of Tarsus Event

  When Nash came to, he knew he was dying. This is exactly what Aaron warned him about. What did Aaron say, "Paul of Tarsus thought he could be healed and even raised from the dead."

  Nash couldn’t concentrate because of the terrible pain. He couldn’t move, everything was broken and mauled. Only his skin held his body together as his face was pressed against the bars and only able to barely look through one eye.

  With that good eye, Nash barely recognized the feet of Dar-Raven standing by the bars. "I see you've survived the night but for now long? I figure with your internal injuries, you probably won’t make it past, let’s say, noon, high noon for you." Dar-Raven laughed riotously.

  "No, on reconsideration, probably not another hour. Oh, by the way, that promise I made, forget it, I lied. I’ll never let you out."

  Nash heard the words, but he was fading in and out so badly that it didn’t make much sense. Suddenly, Nash started getting a great sense of peace about the children. God’s voice said within him, "The children are safe."

  He felt such a relief. He knew that even if he died that it wasn’t in vain. He felt the presence of God move over him and felt a stubbornness rising up inside. A stubbornness, which said, "I don’t want to die. I want to be healed. I want to live."

  Nash made a clouded decision, an Aaron decision, a Paul of Tarsus decision. He prayed through his pain, "I claim my healing, Lord. I claim my wholeness. I deny Dar-Raven’s right to kill me. I claim life in accordance to all the scriptures and the power of the Holy Spirit.”

  Dar-Raven felt his own hair stand on end, then blurted out, "We know where the children are. It’s too late," as if he was trying to convince someone.

  Nash whispered barely audible, "They’re safe, and you have nothing. In Jesus’ name, I claim my healing. I am healed by the blood of Jesus. I am whole by His might and power. I receive it and thank the Lord for it." As he spoke, his voice got louder and louder.

  Dar-Raven jumped back, "You can’t do this! You’re not holy enough! You’re not good enough! I won’t let you!"

  The Holy Spirit moved through the cell. The other prisoners who were previously savage animals now gathered around Nash and watched him while waiting for his miracle.

  Dar-Raven screamed at them, "You’re all dead! I’ll make you all dead! You can’t stop me! You’re dead, Nash! You can’t do this!"

  Nash felt a tremendous heat inside of him. He knew his internal organs were healing. It crept through him following his blood stream, a hot-searing flame, a Holy Ghost flame. His bones started coming together and mending. His legs were straightening as well as his fingers and arms. His bruises where clearing up, then new skin grew where it was broken and bleeding. Dar-Raven rushed the cell bars and reached out to grab Nash, then pulled back as if he was bitten or burned. Nash knew it was the Holy Spirit fire that burned him. Suddenly, Nash breathed deeply without pain for the first time in hours.

  Instead of immediately standing, Nash knelt with his hands open, palms up and started singing. He was singing Psalms 91. His voice was haunting, and it filled the cell with a rich, ancient melody. He had never heard it sung that way before. It came to him instantly. He was never a good singer, but this time his voice was beautiful. As he sang, he also breathed the "white anointing." The other prisoners wept and fell to their knees in repentance and grief. They

  knew God had come to visit, even in this hellhole. They all started singing with Nash. The harmony was beautiful and echoed through the building. It sent chills through the policemen who heard it, but it warmed the hearts of the believers. They knew God was with them, and everything was okay.

  The words of Psalms 91 ran shivers of painful steel through Dar-Raven. He was furious, but he acted as if he was somehow bound by the music and unable to move.

  Nash stood and faced Dar-Raven. "This day you have lost. You cannot touch my children. They are under my protection. You, Dar-Raven, cannot touch my anointed believers. I won’t allow it. Thus sayeth the Lord of Host," replied Nash, prophesying.

  Nash pointed his finger at Dar-Raven and pushed a flat palm towards him. Instantly Dar-Raven was slammed back into the far jail wall. Nash didn’t let up as Dar-Raven was trapped under the hand, the palm, not of Nash, but of God.

  Dar-Raven screamed, "Let me go! Let me go! I am not finished here! I will not stop! You cannot do this to me before the appointed time! You cannot do this!"

  Tears of rage ran down Dar-Raven’s face. Nash closed his hand, and Dar-Raven, wide-eyed, dropped to the floor, but only for a second before he stumbled out and tried to escape with his life.

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  Hunter Lives Again

  Hunter lay in the morgue below the police station. His body was cold with death while his heart, mind, and soul had been with the Lord for hours. His place in heaven would have to wait.

  At first, Hunter heard singing that penetrated the dark shroud of death holding him. He felt cold, deeply chilled, then he felt a tingling

  in his skin, and warmth moved over his body. It felt strange as if his whole body was waking up at once. He noticed that he wasn’t breathing and instinctively made himself take a deep breath and choked on the stale air of the morgue. The air was filled with smells of chloroform, incinerator smoke, and casket metal. He knew that he was in a dark place, an enclosure of some kind. He remembered praying with Nash in a stairwell. It was the last thing he remembered.

  Then God spoke to him, "You died Hunter; but now, you live. Get up and help Nash. Tell the police that Nash didn't kill you. Tell them!"

  He reached up to the top of the enclosure and pushed it backwards. The metal table slid out into the bright lights of the morgue while his skin still looked like death. As he sat up, his eyes started focusing; and soon, the heat of God’s new life surged through his veins, bringing new life to cells and blood vessels. Finally, he began to look normal again, flushed, and regaining his color. Hunter awkwardly got off the table and quickly jumped back on it. The floor was freezing, but he tried again. This time, he saw a pile of clothes near the incinerator, and he walked with wobbly legs as his strength returned.

  He made it to the pile of clothes and found his old jeans; but when he found his shirt, it looked and smelled terrible just like death and sickness. He dug a little farther and found another. "Good," he thought as he found a big t-shirt and another denim-looking, long-sleeve shirt. He couldn’t find any shoes and socks but accepted his bounty as is. He walked up the stairs of the morgue, past the fingerprinting room, and out to the front desks near dispatch. He approached the day captain who fell back into the filing cabinets when he saw him. He saw this kid being carried in the day before.

  Hunter said, "Why have you arrested my friend, Nash? He didn’t kill me, look." He held out his arms and spun around in a showy performance. "My Lord and Savior has done this to and for me."

  Three policemen were standing at the front desk when Hunter walked up. Two were believers, but the other wasn’t. It was dynamic, and they all were stunned. They knew this kid had died and had been in the morgue for almost 24 hours.

  One of the Christian policemen turned immediately to the nonbeliever and said, "Didn’t I tell you God was real? What greater proof do you need? You’re the one who bagged this boy. I think it’s time for you to come to the Lord."

  The response was overpowering, and the Christian policemen knelt with their friend while he accepted the Lord on the spot. They didn’t care that they were in the police station. This was God’s work.

  The newly born-again policeman jumped up, ran over to Hunter, and hugged him. "I did it! I really did! Why didn’t I do this long ago?" The three moved out to a squad car and spent the next hour rejoicing, praying, and thanking God for their own miracle.

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  New Lives For Sanctuary

  Nash and Hunter walked out into the co
ol November morning. They had seen and felt the miracle of God. They rejoiced, and for the first time in their lives they truly understood that, "God is more than able."

  "Where to now?" Hunter asked with his hand on Nash’s shoulder. Nash sniffed and breathed deeply at the air saying, "To Sanctuary, to the children, to finish this journey."

  Enya woke from a nap in a start, but she knew Nash was okay. She felt the peace of God flooding over her and pushing an image of an okay Nash upon her. Isaac came to the back of the bus and said to her, "Didn’t I tell you?" She hugged him tightly.

  They both thought, "What a wonderful God we serve."

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  Better Than Before

  Hunter and Nash walked slowly through downtown Nashville. They breathed deeply of their new freedom and soaked up the fragrance of the wet streets, enjoying the feel of the misting rain with

  their senses being keenly electric. They felt more alive than ever in their lives.

  Hunter knew from the way the police talked that Nash must have been in pretty bad shape before the Lord healed him. Also, his own resurrection was the biggest news of the day. It was impossible for them to keep a murder charge when the murder victim stands before them asking about his friend, the accused murderer.

  Hunter knew enough about Nash to know that in between consciousness, he heard and saw Nash praying for him. He knew instinctively, as well as from the voice of God, that Nash really was "closer than a brother." Nash had something else; He had answers and pieces of the puzzle, which Hunter didn’t. That’s what Hunter wanted to know. He wanted Nash to put it all together for him and bring him up-to-date.

  Now was as good a time as any time to talk about it. He asked Nash, "What’s God’s Mountain? What’s Sanctuary?"

  Nash asked his own questions, "Before I answer, I’ve got some for you? What did it feel like being dead? Did you go to heaven? Did you see our Lord? What happened?"

  Hunter answered in a confused manner, "I really don’t remember much. I thought it was a dream. I can’t tell you very much. I know that it was important to come back. If I hadn’t, who knows what would have happened to you. Sounds like you’d have been healthy but still in jail."

  Hunter beamed health and the presence of God. When God resurrected him, He healed every wound, every scratch, every blemish, and he felt wonderful. He kept thinking about how good he felt, and he’d recommend resurrection to everyone. Nash was feeling the same way as Hunter. His in-the-jail healing was also inside and out. There wasn’t anything God overlooked. He didn’t even

  feel exhausted anymore, nor could he remember having so much energy. He wanted to talk to Hunter, but his mind was on his Enya though he knew she was okay. His own intuition told him that much, but he wanted to see her, to hold her.

  Nash jumped in with his own answer. "We’re going to God’s Mountain on top of Monteagle, to Sanctuary, Hunter."

  "Is that where the children are?" asked Hunter.

  "Yes, and the angels with many new friends." Nash wondered how he knew they had "new" friends.

  Hunter and Nash finally made it to the Mission. It had been boarded up by the police, and there were police chalk marks on the sidewalk where Hunter had died. He almost asked Nash who got killed, then remembered. Why would a murderer beat someone to death, then carry them down ten flights of stairs in order to get away? They must have been under quite a delusion. Nash seemed to sense Hunter’s question.

  "It was Dar-Raven, Hunter. Dar-Raven is a dark angel who was pushing all the wrong buttons the day you died. He probably used his power to confuse and deceive the police. I know one thing about Dar-Raven, he’s afraid of the Holy Spirit, the anointing, and I imagine that he’ll be using more people to do his dirty work than tackling anointed believers himself from now on." He spoke casually while he pried boards off the side door of the Mission.

  Once in, it was so still and empty that it was almost uncomfortable. They made their way to Nash’s office where Nash grabbed a plastic grocery sack from the trash and started picking up some major essentials. He stopped and turned to Hunter.

  "Hunter, you need to get some stuff for the road too. I remember Enya putting some hiking equipment in storage. We used it when we went camping on the mountain. I’m sure Enya has already taken some bathroom stuff, but let’s get you situated."

  Hunter answered, "I don’t need much. What floor did the teenage guys stay on? I might be able to find some clean jeans and a sweatshirt

  or two. Oh, do you think there might be any jackets? This is November, and I bet we need to have something warmer than another long-sleeve shirt?"

  "You’re right, Hunter. Go to the 10th floor and see what you can find. I’ll scrounge up the backpacks and some camping gear with etceteras. I don’t know about the jackets. I’ve not needed anything to really handle the cold for quite some time. I’ve got some heavy windbreakers, an old pee coat, and plenty of stocking hats. They’re left over from last winter. We used to get donations from the churches in December. We’d give the homeless coats and winter clothes, but there isn’t much left from last year."

  They split up and started digging through the left-behinds. It didn’t take them long. They both laid out their goods in the kitchen. It was slim pickings, but they both reached instantly for a couple of Bibles to go in first. The coats were still the issue. There was nothing to stand the mountain cold, especially when night came or to handle the trip if it took long.

  "Nash, how are we going to get to Monteagle? It might be too dangerous to walk," replied Hunter.

  "Well, I may have that figured out. Years ago when Enya and I took over the Mission, we stuck a Montero in storage out on Murfreesboro Road. We didn’t need it like before. Neither of us worked outside the Mission; and as gasoline became scare, there was no sense even bothering. It even has a full tank of gas. Probably not a good idea at the time, but I’m glad I did it now."

  "Let’s see what kind of food stuff is left. I’ll perk a pot of coffee. I see my thermos on top the fridge."

  They sorted and selected, choosing just the right things. With everything finally packed, they started to leave. As they walked out the side door, Nash stumbled over a large box. "What’s this? It wasn’t here

  when we came in," said Hunter. Hunter reached down and noticed a tag on the box like you get when you open Christmas presents.

  It read, "Welcome back, guys. See you soon."

  Hunter said, "Who’s Aaron, again?" reading the from-who’s.

  Nash smiled, "You remember, the angel I told you about?"

  Nash opened the boxes. There were two beautiful L.L. Bean Baxter State Parkas with fur-lined hoods. They were perfect. They could stand any Arctic blast down to -50 degrees. Attached were pairs of heavy insulated gloves.

  "Hunter, they never cease to surprise me. I wonder sometimes why they don’t do their thing and teleport us to the mountain." He wondered the same thing about the children too. Nash felt silly the minute he said it, then admitted to himself that it must have been subconsciously suppressed until now.

  Hunter cuffed Nash with his words, "Nash, it may surprise us many times how the journey is the blessing, not the end result. Think about Joseph. Do you really think he’d have taken a deal from

  God to be the ruler of Egypt if he had known he was going to be stuck in a sewer, sold into slavery, and put in prison for being falsely accused of rape? But, that’s the point. How he learned to depend on God during those times may have made it all a great adventure. He may have been thrilled of what he learned from God on the trips. There’s nothing to say it wasn’t so."

  Nash lowered his head while submitting to Hunter’s youthful but clear wisdom. "You’re right, Hunter. In hindsight, I wouldn’t give anything for the experience of having my body completely healed inside-and-out. It was worth the pain, but I still can’t believe I’m saying it. I bet Joseph felt the same way." They did a thumbs up at each other, put on their L. L. Beans, and
started walking south down Murfreesboro Road.

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