by Lee Carroll
Mike instantly thought of himself as a pile of rotting flesh on the road—one that didn’t pay attention to the teacher. He intensified his interest so he would not create that condition. Ugh!
Orange saw Mike’s thoughts. He laughed out loud and shared much wonderful mirth with him. Mike was astounded by how close he felt to Orange. He was a wonderful teacher. He was a great companion—even if he didn’t know how to say hello or good-bye.
Mike was shown how to shape thoughts that would actually create energy. “This is how you control your reality,” Orange told him. “Use your internal spiritual feeling and knowingness to propel you into situations that you deserve and that you’ve planned for.” Mike had no idea what that meant, but he did as he was told and apparently passed all the tests. The spiritual empowerment gift of co-creation was imbedded into his being, as well as the gift to clear all his karmic attributes from past incarnations. Each gift was celebrated with ceremony and verbalization. Also, each one seemed to transmute from the physical to the spiritual as it was absorbed by his body under the direction and careful tutelage of the great orange angel.
Mike felt as if he were studying for some holy priesthood! Each time he would verbalize what Orange taught him, he could see Orange actually looking at his heart! Orange could be intense, and during these times when Mike made promises and verbalized intent for this or that gift to be implanted into his spiritual power center, Orange seemed to be reading Mike’s soul. It was uncomfortable at first, but then Mike realized that Orange was doing an integrity check on what Mike was saying out loud. If Mike had been faking it, Orange would have known it instantly, and he would not have let Mike go further.
Eventually, over a two-week period, the small packages were all opened, explained, and integrated into Mike’s spiritual self, and tests were given along the way. One test was especially hard. Mike was afraid of small spaces; he didn’t know why, but early in life he realized that he would have a panic attack if closely confined in any manner. One of the gifts from Orange was the power to overcome this phobia. Mike gave the intent and did the ceremony. Orange told him that the feeling of panic in enclosed spaces was a KARMIC OVERLAY, and that clearing it represented the clearing of many other past-life experiences that Mike had brought into his humanness this time around.
Days later, a large crate was opened during the training period. Instead of something coming out, Mike was asked by a very loving Orange to step in! The lid was closed, and darkness was all around Mike as he crouched in the container. He heard the ominous, loud pounding of each nail as the cover of the lid was secured by Orange. Then silence and more darkness.
He could clearly hear his breath in the enclosed space, and he was very aware of his cramped position. He could even hear his heart. Orange gave no explanation. He didn’t have to. It was another test that Mike could not fake.
For about ten seconds, Mike’s heart raced with the remembrance of his problem. Then, when his entire body should have turned into a fit of shaking panic, the claustrophobic feeling fizzled completely, and he relaxed. Mike realized, much to his joy, that the gift had worked, and that his body had first reacted as in the old days, but his new spirit had stopped it. Peace took over, and Mike sang some songs to himself and finally dozed off. A delighted Orange opened the box and let Mike out about an hour later.
“You are remarkable, Michael Thomas of Pure Intent,” said the broadly smiling angelic being. Mike could actually see pride in the eyes of Orange. “Not all make it this far.”
This was the first time Mike actually realized that he was among others who had also asked for the path home. This fact had come up several times before, but he had not seen the implication of it. He thought about this for many a night as Orange finally progressed through the gifts and started to bring out the big tools. It was the during the third week of training that Orange brought out the big case.
“There are three tools you will need on your journey,” Orange said with great emphasis. He went over to a special crate and opened it. Each time Orange opened a package or crate, Mike would sit expectantly on the bench provided, wondering what magic item was next that would increase his spiritual awareness, knowledge, or power. He was not prepared for what Orange had to give him.
Orange’s back was toward Mike, so he couldn’t see what the angel had drawn from the crate. As the angel turned to present the first tool, Mike caught a flash of something silver. NO! It couldn’t be—Orange was holding an immense sword!
“Behold the sword of truth,” stated the orange angel as he presented the weapon to Michael Thomas. If it looked big when the angel held it, it looked huge when Mike did. It was heavy beyond belief, and unwieldy. Mike couldn’t believe this was happening.
“This is a real sword!” Mike exclaimed to Orange.
“As real as the other gifts,” reminded Orange. “Only this is one of three that you will carry with you on the outside of your body as you travel to the next four houses.”
Michael held the sword for some time, examining its beauty. Yes, it had his name on it—he guessed. The weapon was intricately embossed with designs, which all had great spiritual meaning. Its handle was large, and the grip was a bright cobalt blue stone of some kind. It was breathtaking—and very sharp on both of its edges.
“Try to swing it.” The angel stepped back.
Michael did as he was told, and the sword almost swung itself! The unexpected power of the weapon toppled Mike over! He felt stupid and clumsy as he arose to try again. Orange held up his hand to stop Mike from continuing.
“Here, see if this helps.” The angel approached the crate again and brought out something else. Again, the new object flashed a silver color upon being retrieved. It was a huge shield! Mike shook his head in disbelief. What was this all about? This was odd indeed. Spiritual gifts? Weapons of war? Am I being prepared for a past life in Camelot?
“Everything is not as it seems, Michael Thomas of Pure Intent.” Orange stood before him with the shield in his hands, answering the thoughts of a confused student. “Try this.”
Orange showed Mike how to strap the shield to his arm and gave him a few tips on how the shield and the sword balanced each other in weight so that it was possible to swing the sword without falling over—a good thing to learn.
“Michael,” said the angel, “the shield is the knowledge of Spirit. Together with truth, the balance is all-powerful! Darkness cannot exist where there is knowledge. No secrets can survive in the light, and light will be created when truth is revealed from examination of knowledge. There is no greater combination than this. They must be used together.”
“Anything else in that crate?”asked Mike in a joking way as he staggered with the weight of the new sword and shield.
“Funny you should ask!” Orange again went to the crate with a disbelieving Mike staring after him. The angel reached down and picked up on object that was even larger than the rest, and again silver in color.
“Behold the armor!” exclaimed a very amused Orange angel, almost laughing at the expression of disbelief on Mike’s face.
“I don’t understand!” Mike sat down dejectedly on the bench. “How can I ever be expected to carry all this?”
“With practice,” replied Orange. “Here, let me show you.”
Orange took the sword and shield. He helped Mike put on the heavy, ornate armor. It was like a vest, and covered Mike’s upper torso. As it was accepted arm by arm, it went on like a body mold—a perfect fit! The snaps were secured, and Orange belted Mike with a special scabbard to sheath the sword of truth; then, he showed him how to stow the heavy shield with a special fastener on his back for traveling. When all was complete, the angel again stood back.
“Michael Thomas of Pure Intent, you now possess the triad of tools that will allow passage into the new vibration. You have the sword of truth, the shield of knowledge, and finally—the armor of Spirit. The armor is called the “mantle of God.” It represents the wisdom necessary to use the other two to
ols appropriately. Tomorrow you will begin your training as a warrior of the light. There is great power in the triad. Never use them separately!”
Orange took the weapons from Michael and led him back to his room, where Mike washed, ate, and went to sleep. He lay in bed for a very long time wondering about the many inconsistencies that he perceived in this great land. He dozed off to sleep with many conflicting thoughts in his mind.
In the morning, Mike again found himself in the hall of training. It was during the next few days that Orange began to show Mike how to use the old weapons with some skill. The first practice was balance. He made Mike run up and down stairs in full battle dress—sword out and shield at the ready. He showed him how to fall and get up quickly by using the shield as a counterweight. Through all of this, Mike noticed that the tools never got dirty, and they never became dented or scarred.
He ran with the tools, walked with them, twirled with them, did everything but fight with them. Mike was slowly getting a feeling of balance. With time, an odd thing developed. At night when he took the battle dress off, there was no feeling of relief in discarding the heavy weapons. Instead, he felt small and defenseless and much too light!
Many days went by before Orange began the final training on how to actually use the sword of truth. Mike expected Orange to turn into some kind of samurai master and teach Mike how to fight. Instead, Mike got an entirely different training.
“You are now ready to learn how to use the weapons, Michael Thomas,” Orange said. “Draw your sword.”
With a flourish that would have made any knight proud, Mike easily produced the massive sword of great length. The angel watched approvingly.
“Now raise it to God.” Michael did as he was told. “Before you speak your truth, Michael Thomas, feel the sword.”
Mike didn’t have any idea what Orange meant. Feel the sword? It was in his hands. How could he not feel the sword?
“Michael Thomas of Pure Intent,” said the intense Orange one, “hold the sword up high and speak your truth. Do you love God?”
Michael was beginning to get the picture. There was that question again! Only this time, he was holding a massive spiritual weapon pointed toward heaven, and he was expected to give some kind of speech? Michael began his now-standard reply.
“Yes, I do, Orange. As you can examine my heart—” Mike was stunned and could not finish. The sword was starting to vibrate! It was almost singing as it seemed to sweep an intense vibratory warmth down his arm and into his chest. The shield was humming in response—he was certain of it. And the armor was growing warm as well! The tools he had grown so used to carrying with ease were somehow alive with his intent! He was being overtaken by the feeling of power within these elements that he was holding and wearing. He remembered that he was speaking.
“I do most certainly love God!” Mike held the sword up high and was able to FEEL it vibrate with his truthful intent. He felt empowered. He felt enlightened. He felt as if he could stand there for another hour with the heavy, vibrating weapon at the ready, intending his purpose to go HOME where he belonged. He FELT the three units vibrate and sing with a musical F note that resounded within his heart. Tears began to stream down his face as he felt and saw the appropriateness of the ceremony at hand. The units were accepting Mike’s biology. They were integrating themselves into his Spirit, and his truthful intent was the catalyst for the ceremony! So this was the reason for the sword, shield, and armor? It was a metaphor. What else could it be? This explanation was good enough for Michael Thomas, for it had taken him to a new level of commitment and awareness.
Orange and Michael Thomas exchanged loving feelings that night. Mike knew it was almost time to leave. Orange never did show Mike how to fight, and Mike knew that it was due to the fact that the weapons were only symbols. Mike asked Orange about home and the path. He repeatedly wondered why weapons of Earth war were being taught in a sacred, spiritual land. Orange successfully dodged all the questions except the ones that Mike was allowed to have answered—and then even those answers were vague.
“Orange, you would have made a wonderful Earth politician,” kidded Mike.
“What did I do that would cause you to insult me like that?” Orange kidded back.
“I feel a genuine bond with you.” Mike realized he was choking up. He really didn’t want to leave this great master angel.
“Say no more, Michael Thomas of Pure Intent. I will share a secret of angeldom with you.” Orange had made up a word just for Mike. He bent down so that he was at eye level with him and continued. “You and I—we are of the same family. We don’t say good-bye because we never leave one another. I am always with you, and available. You will see...now it is time for you to retire.”
Mike was shocked by the forthright nature of this communication with Orange. The same family? How could that be? Then Mike felt foolish, for he realized that Orange had indeed overheard him the first night when he complained that angels never say good-bye. What an answer! What a great revelation! What a thought! They never leave me?
Mike remembered for the first time since he’d arrived three weeks ago that at the fork in the road, Blue had somehow given him advice on how to use the map. He had actually heard Blue’s voice in his head.
“Do you know Blue?” asked Mike on a whim.
“As I do myself,” was the reply from the Orange one.
Mike said nothing and retired to the room he was growing very fond of, the place where he ate and slept. Although nothing had been said about leaving, Mike found himself packing his things into the bags that he had almost forgotten about—readying himself to continue his journey in the morning. He took a few looks at the books and photos and sighed again at his Earth experiences and the preciousness of his few possessions. Somehow they were beginning to seem out of place.
It was a pensive Michael Thomas who appeared at the door of the Orange house that morning after his meal. Orange had silently led him in that direction, with Michael following behind. This time, however, Mike had some extra burdens to carry—the bag with his map, the new tools swinging and clanking as he walked, and the two suitcases of books and photos.
“Michael, are you certain you wish to take all those items on the journey?” asked the orange one. “It would be better if you didn’t have them.”
“They represent all my earthly possessions,” replied Mike. “I need them.”
“For what?”
Mike thought about that question, but to leave his bags was not an option.
“For remembrance and honor of my former life,” said Mike.
“For connection to the old ways, Michael?”
Mike was getting irritated by the line of questioning. The angel spoke again.
“Why don’t you leave your bags with me, Michael. I love you, and I will keep them safe for you if you ever should return here.”
“No!” Mike didn’t want to hear any more about his bags. It was his stuff, and he would keep it as long as possible. He needed something in this odd place to remind him of who he really was.
The angel nodded. Mike always got his way. He noticed that all the angels had honored his choices and never argued with his final decisions.
Michael Thomas didn’t say good-bye to Orange that morning. Standing on the steps facing the angel he had been with for weeks, he remembered the explanation from Orange about such things.
“See you shortly,” said Michael, not believing it.
Orange simply went inside and shut the door. I don’t know how they do that, thought Mike to himself. Never any closure—except doors.
Mike started down the path in a direction he had not yet been. It was all he could do to hold everything together, for he was overburdened with his load. The addition of the sword, shield, and armor, along with his bags and map pouch were almost too much. He lamented the fact that these heavy symbols of the New Age actually had to be physically carried around! What a dumb deal, Mike secretly thought. I must look very silly. Are these weapons
really necessary? I’ll never use them in any battle. I really don’t know how! Orange never taught me. They are only for looks and ceremony, so wouldn’t it have been enough to acknowledge them?
As he was preoccupied trying to balance all his new gear and the old bags, he had forgotten about his trouble on the path before. He had forgotten that something was waiting for him. As Mike noisily clanked off down the path, dragging his bags and balancing his tools, a dark green ominous force was watching him from the trees. The thing examined Mike with new interest. Gone was the old Mike. It had been replaced with one who had weapons and power! This was no longer going to be easy. A new strategy would be called for—one that would confront Michael Thomas with great power and directness. Time will make the difference, but until then, the dark one would continue to follow Michael at a distance, waiting for the opportunity to strike. IT took up ITs chase just out of sight and detection, following the journey of Michael Thomas of Pure Intent. IT was confident that this human would never make it to the final door marked “home.”
CHAPTER SIX
The Great Storm
Mike had been on the road for no more than two hours when he noticed that the wind was picking up and the sky was darkening. Oh, great! thought Mike. Storms in paradise.
For the last hour or so, he had indeed been struggling with his load and had been stopping at increasing intervals to rest. Not only was all this stuff heavy, but it was awkward as well! This irritated Mike at a deep level and made him feel out of balance—now a storm, too! He would need to find some shelter shortly if it was going to rain. He didn’t want his bags to get wet and didn’t know whether the new battle gear would rust or not.
