The Journey Home

by Lee Carroll

  “Greetings, Michael Thomas of Pure Intent! We have been expecting you.”

  Unlike the angel of the vision, this angel’s face was clearly visible, and Mike could see the expression of well-being and mirth that seemed to be constant, no matter what the entity said. Mike was appreciative of the company and was respectful of the situation. He greeted the angel.

  “Greetings also to you, oh great blue one.” Michael swallowed hard right away. What if the angel didn’t want to be called blue?What if his blueness was only a human perception and he really wasn’t blue at all? Maybe he doesn’t even like blue! Mike sighed at the stream of what ifs that ran through his human mind.

  “I’m blue to every entity, Michael Thomas of Pure Intent,” mused the angel, “and I accept your greeting with joy. Please enter the House of Maps and prepare to stay the night.”

  This time Mike was glad an angel had read his thoughts—or what was it the original angel had said? He could feel them? In any case, Mike was glad that he had not offended the keeper of the first house.

  Mike and the blue angel, two unevenly matched entities, turned and entered the blue house. Even as the door shut behind them, two huge, intense, angry, beet-red eyes peered from the ample brush slightly to the left of the house entrance. They were very alert. They didn’t get weary. They were silent and very patient. They wouldn’t move or blink again until they saw that Michael Thomas was ready to continue.

  As Mike entered, he was astounded by what he saw. The inside of the structure was immense! It seemed to go on forever, yet the outside was humble and modest. He remembered that the original angel had said that all might not be as it seemed, and this was obviously part of the strange new reality of his awareness. Mike wondered about this new perception. Did it have a greater meaning?

  Mike wandered the huge halls of the House of Maps while following the angel. The interior resembled a library of the highest order, perhaps like some illustrious one you would visit in Europe, where important historical books of every kind would be stored. Instead of books on shelves, however, there were seemingly tens of thousands of small wooden holes lining the walls, each containing what Mike felt might be a scroll. The walls seemed to go up forever, and there were holes on both sides of every hall they entered, several stories high. He couldn’t see the holes up close yet, but contained in them might be maps, since the name of the house implied such. But why so many of them? The journey around the giant rooms seemed endless, and in the process not one other living soul was encountered.

  “Are we alone?” Mike asked. The angel turned and chuckled.

  “Depends what you mean by ‘alone,’ I suppose. You are looking at the contracts of every human being on the planet.” The angel casually continued walking forward.

  Mike stopped and stared, reacting with amazement to what the blue entity had just said. The distance between them widened as the angel continued forward without Mike. Sensing that he was not being followed, the angel stopped, turned, and waited patiently for Mike. He said nothing.

  Mike saw the ladders leaning up against the high walls of the multistory racks of endless wooden cubbyholes that contained scroll after scroll. Contracts, the angel had called them. What could that mean?

  “I don’t understand this at all!” exclaimed Michael as he caught up to the angel.

  “Before your journey is over, you will,” replied the angel with a comforting voice. “There is nothing here that is frightening, Michael. All is in order, and your visit was expected and is honored. Your intent is pure, and we can all see that. Relax, and enjoy being loved by us.”

  The blue one’s words really impacted Mike. There was nothing that any entity could say in the Universe that was better than what had just been said to him. Was he starting to feel more? The original angel had given Mike some of the same loving vibrations, but he now felt a great deal more of an emotional reaction than he had before.

  “It’s a grand feeling to be loved, isn’t it,Michael?” The blue angel had returned to Mike’s side and was towering over him.

  “What is this feeling?” Mike asked softly. “I feel almost teary.”

  “You are shifting into another vibration, Michael.”

  “I don’t understand what that means. Uh...do you have a name, sir?” Michael again wondered if he had offended the entity. What if it was a she angel? Mike had no idea about those kinds of things, but the angel’s demeanor and appearance could easily have been feminine.

  “Just call me Blue,” said the angel as it winked at Mike. “I’m genderless, but my size and voice tell your mind that I’m male. Call me a HE. It’s okay.” The angel paused to let Mike take it all in. Blue continued, “Your cellular structure as a human may exist in many vibratory rates, Michael. The one you have grown used to is, let’s say, rate number one. You are familiar with it, and it has served you well. On this trip, however, it will be necessary for you to move forward to rate six or seven in order to move toward your goal. Right now you are passing into what I will call rate two, for want of a better name. Each vibratory rate brings more awareness of the actual reality of God, as you have been told. What you are feeling now is the awareness of love. Love is thick, Michael. It has physical properties and is powerful. Your new vibratory rate is letting you feel it more than you ever have before. It is the essence of home and will intensify with each house you visit.”

  Michael loved listening to Blue. This was more explanation than he had received up till now.

  “Are you a teacher?” asked Mike.

  “Yes. Each of the House angels are here for that very purpose, except the last one. I will have truths to reveal to you that are part of my house, and the others will as well. When you are finished, you will have a far larger overview of how things work in the Universe than you do now. My job is to dispense something to you that you have earned through your expression of intent. You are here in my house to receive your contract map. Early tomorrow I will present it to you and answer a few questions before you continue on your path. It is important that this house is first, for it will help with your journey. For now, I encourage you to enjoy our gifts of sustenance and rest.”

  Mike again followed Blue, who was starting to feel like a very familiar friend—but a very blue one. He was taken into a wonderful interior garden, where every possible fruit and vegetable was being grown in row after row of carefully cultivated agriculture. The light, as in every other room, was streaming in through ports in the roof. It filled each area with a natural outdoor essence. He could also smell the aroma of baking bread coming from another area of the complex.

  “Who takes care of all this?” Mike asked. “I only see you...and do you eat?”

  “Each house has rooms like this, Michael, and no, I don’t eat. This garden exists totally for the humans who are on the same path you are, spending time suspended in this learning experience, passing through here. The garden is attended by many—you just don’t see them now. You will not be without sustenance, health, and shelter while you walk your path of knowledge. It is our way of honoring you and your intent.”

  Mike started to feel the overwhelming sense of being cared for as the two continued on into the other rooms—the human following the large blue entity. Finally, they reached a quaint sleeping area—private quarters with a wonderful canopied bed and pristine white lace sheets, inviting Mike to plop his weary body down. Overstuffed pillows beckoned to him, offering the comfort and security of a deep sleep. Mike was astounded by the degree of preparation.

  “All of this is for me?” Mike was impressed.

  “You and others, Michael. It is prepared for any who have the kind of intent you do.”

  In the adjacent room was a feast that Mike could not even begin to consume! There was more succulent food than he had ever seen—much more than just one person could eat.

  “Eat what you wish, Michael,” suggested Blue. “None will be wasted. But do not hoard the extra. Resist the temptation to carry it with you. This is a test of your p
rocess—something you will understand fully later.”

  Blue left Mike alone and exited the area. Mike dropped his bags, immediately sat down, and ate like he had seldom done before. He took care not to be gluttonlike, but he filled his belly fully with the luscious cuisine. His eyelids were starting to droop, and the surroundings created a degree of comfort that Mike hadn’t experienced since he had been a child in the care of his loving parents.

  Oh, that I could sustain this feeling! Mike thought. It made being a human all worth it. Mike got up from his meal, feeling that he would somehow address the issue of the dirty dishes in the morning. He was tired! He was barely able to get out of his clothes, which he hung on provided hooks on the wall. He fell into bed, and the warm cocoon of peaceful sleep came fast.

  In the morning stillness, Mike arose feeling incredibly refreshed. He washed up and made his way to the dining area, only to find that all the dishes from the night before had been removed and a wonderfully prepared breakfast spread was in its place! Part of his awakening that morning had come from the smell of fresh eggs, potatoes, and delicious bread. Mike enjoyed his solitary breakfast alone, and in his solitude he again wondered about the appropriateness of his request to go home.

  Is it wrong to want out of the earth experience? he asked himself. What about those left behind? They won’t be able to experience the levels of vibratory enhancement that he would. Was it fair? A feeling of melancholy began to wash over him as he thought about his friends and the people he worked with. He was even concerned about his former lover!

  What is happening? wondered Mike. I’m starting to feel empathy for everyone. This is not like the me I have always been. This is actually painful! I’m starting to regret having something that others don’t have. Does this mean I’m in the wrong? Should I go back?

  “It is inevitable that you ask yourself that question, Michael,” said Blue, who had suddenly appeared in the doorway and had once again tuned into Mike’s feelings. Although startled, Mike was delighted to see Blue and greeted him with a nod.

  “Speak to me of these things, Blue,” said Michael. “I honestly need direction. I’m beginning to wonder if I have done the correct thing.”

  “The workings of Spirit are marvelous, Michael Thomas of Pure Intent,” said Blue. “And the postulate of human enlightenment is this: Take care of yourself first, and the honor of your journey will be passed to those around you in a synchronous way, for the intent of the one will always affect the many.”

  “Again, I don’t fully understand, Blue,” replied a confused Mike.

  “Even though you do not understand at the moment, Michael, your actions will affect others—giving them opportunities for their own decisions—something they would not have had without your decision to be right here, right now. Trust that these things are true, and do not be reproachful with yourself.”

  Mike felt a burden lifted from his soul. Blue hadn’t been able to fully make him understand why things work spiritually, but the assurance was enough, and he felt much better about continuing.

  Mike picked up his belongings and left the private dining and sleeping quarters. He stepped back into the great hallway that led to the door he had originally entered yesterday from the outside. Blue walked slowly behind him as Mike marveled at the immensity of it all. Blue said nothing as he noticed the bagel and other bread sticks protruding from Mike’s sack.

  “Where are we going?” asked Mike. “Should I continue in this direction?” He knew that he was about to receive his very own map, and he wanted Blue to take the lead.

  “You may stop now,” said Blue. The two paused in the middle of a huge blue ornate hall where Blue silently walked over to a far wall near a ladder. “Come over here, Michael.”

  Mike did as he was told, and before long, Blue had him climbing a very tall ladder on a quest to find a specific cubicle where his map resided. As Mike clawed his way up the ladder, he noticed that each cubicle hole had a name on it. There were actually two names for each compartment. One name looked like it was in an Arabic lettering, and one was in Roman lettering. Rather than being placed alphabetically, the boxes were arranged into some other system unknown to Mike, but no doubt understood by Blue. Blue had told him exactly where to look, and he was now just a few feet from the place Blue had indicated.

  Finally, he saw it. The box marked “Michael Thomas,” along with the other strange lettering that was on all the others—probably angel language, Michael thought to himself. His instructions were to not look around, but to retrieve the scroll from the selected box and return it to the floor for examination. Mike had just pulled out the scroll and was starting down the ladder when his eye caught another group of names, and his heart stopped. His mom and dad were also here! The arrangement was in family groups! That was the spiritual system used in the great hall. Mike knew he was absolutely forbidden to touch another’s scroll, but he lingered a bit too long as he examined some of the names that made no sense to him. Why were these other names with his family? he wondered.

  “Michael?” Blue inquired from below.

  “Coming, sir,” said a sheepish Mike. Blue knew what he was thinking, but Mike would not ask the kind of question that might violate the protocol of this sacred place. Pensively, Mike made his way down the long blue ladder and presented the scroll to Blue. Blue looked at Mike for a long moment, and in that steady gaze there were no secrets. Instead, there was a transmittal of gratitude from Blue that Mike had honored the anointed ways of the system, and Mike felt the love of God permeate his very being. Both Mike and Blue smiled broadly at the wordless communication. Mike was starting to feel that words were no longer necessary! It seemed that he could communicate anything he wanted to Blue without saying it out loud. This is weird! thought Mike.

  “Not as strange as what you are about to see,” replied Blue to Mike’s thoughts. Rats! thought Mike. I can’t get away with anything in here. Blue ignored Mike’s latest thoughts and placed the small scroll on a table. He then turned and faced Mike.

  “Michael Thomas of Pure Intent,” Blue formally stated, “this is your life map. In some form, you will have it with you from this point on. It is given in love and will be one of the most valuable items you will own.” Mike suddenly remembered the original angel’s words about the new energy being far more current than before. Mike asked the obvious question.

  “Is the map current?”

  “More so than you might desire,” was the whimsical answer from the tall blue one. Mike actually thought he heard Blue snicker.

  Blue handed the map to Mike and wordlessly invited him to examine it for himself. Mike took it and held it to his chest for a moment, savoring the gift as a child would. He felt the sacredness of the moment and opened the map with a ceremonial flare that made Blue smile. Blue knew what was coming.

  All sense of wonderment and expectation disappeared as Mike uncoiled the small scroll. It was blank! Or was it? Right in the middle of the scroll, visible only by careful examination, was a group of letters and symbols. Mike bent over and peered at the grouping. An arrow pointed to a small red dot. Next to the dot were the words “YOU ARE HERE.” A small symbol for the cottage labeled “House of Maps” was next to the dot. A small but richly detailed area was drawn around the dot for about an inch or so on the paper, including the path Mike had followed, then it stopped, incomplete! The map showed Mike only where he was and detailed a small area extending only a hundred yards or so in every direction.

  “What is this?” asked Michael, not too respectfully. “Is this an angel joke, Blue? I have come all this way to the House of Maps to receive a wonderful sacred scroll that tells me that...I’m in the House of Maps?”

  “Things are not always as they seem, Michael Thomas of Pure Intent. Take this gift and keep it with you.” Blue didn’t really answer the question at all.

  Mike knew intuitively that it wouldn’t do any good to ask again, so he rolled up the seemingly useless map and placed it in his sack. He was clearly disappoi
nted. Blue led the way back to the front door and stepped outside into the fresh air, with Mike following him. The angel faced Mike.

  “Michael Thomas of Pure Intent, there is one question that I must ask before you continue on your journey home.”

  “What is the question, my Blue friend?” asked Mike.

  “Michael Thomas of Pure Intent, do you love God?” Blue was very serious.

  Mike found it strange that the original angel had asked the same question—in almost the same tone. He wondered what the significance of such repetition was.

  “Dear magnificent blue teacher, since you can see my heart, you know that I indeed love God.” Mike stood and faced the angel as he delivered his honest answer.

  “So it is,” said Blue, and with that he stepped into the small blue cottage and closed the door firmly. Michael had a feeling of sudden disconnection. Do these guys ever say good-bye? he wondered.

  THE WEATHER WAS balmy and pleasant. Mike picked up his bag and his sack of supplies, including the bread he had removed from the blue house, and he started down the dirt road in a direction he knew would bring him to yet another house of lessons. He started to review all of the humorous elements in the events that had occurred while in the House of Maps. Imagine a map that only tells you where you are at the moment! How useless. Of course I know where I am! What a funny place this is, thought Mike.

  Peals of laughter echoed from the hills as Michael Thomas of Pure Intent bellowed his enjoyment of his situation to the rocks and trees as he continued on his path home. His laughter also fell on the wart-covered green ears of a very dark entity lurking just 200 yards behind him. Mike had no idea that this dark shape had patiently waited for him to resume his journey and was once again following his every step. This thing didn’t belong in this realm. It didn’t need to eat or sleep. It had no joy—only the determination that Michael Thomas would never, ever reach the last house. Its agenda was set, and it was closing the distance between itself and Michael Thomas of Pure Intent.