by Lee Carroll
She stood before Michael Thomas in silence. The potential energy between them was so thick you could cut it. Before him stood a splendid female entity who was beautiful beyond belief, and he could only sit in a chair and sob. It was pathetic. All Mike’s senses were filled with the essence of failure.
There was electricity in the air that crackled with the energy of spiritual purpose and love, though seemingly unfulfilled and lost for ever. The smell of irony was pungent. The only rose in his life was never to be admired and loved for its beauty. Its fragrance would go unappreciated, and the precious rose would wilt by itself—never to be held or adored for its perfect beauty and natural elegance.
The contract between them had been powerful, and this realization was breaking the spirit and heart of Michael Thomas as he sat in the white chair in the house of Love. Her reality began to fade, and he reacted instantly. He felt himself shouting.
“NO! Please don’t go! Please!” Mike felt he would never see her again. He just wanted a few more moments. The words she spoke in farewell sounded like more angelic gibberish.
“Michael, things are not necessarily what they seem.” The resplendent and magnificent woman who represented the potential love of Michael Thomas’s life faded before his eyes, speaking seemingly trite words that he had heard before. With her fading away went the hopes of a human lifetime. He had watched and listened to his dreams of joy being dashed on the rocks of so-called spiritual purpose.
Mike was petrified with grief. He couldn’t move. Like a statue, he stared straight ahead for hours in the faint hope that this precious entity would return to the very spot she had occupied—a spot made sacred by her very presence. He pleaded with God to allow just a few more moments with his lost partner.
The light in the room grew dim and changed color with the close of the day. Finally, it turned into a blackness that echoed the moonless night outside and reflected the hopelessness of Mike’s heart inside. He sat in the dark silence of one who has been firmly and decisively defeated. There was no joy in his heart. The peace of his spiritual journey had been replaced by the agony of hurt and the sick, dark, tormenting feeling of loss. His energy sapped by the intensity of an injured heart and a revelation of profundity,Mike eventually fell into a deep slumber. Still he did not move, as his dreams replayed the anguish of the potent and tragic meeting over and over.
Mike’s heart was broken.
THE NEW DAY DAWNED and filled the room with light. Mike found himself in the chair where he had been all night. He felt as if he had run a marathon, and his joints ached—not from activity, but from being in the same position for so many hours. He needed to eat, but did not feel hungry. Still, Mike forced himself slowly out of his seat and made his way to his quarters.
As usual, the food was prepared, and he fed himself automatically without appreciating the fine beauty around him or the incredible taste of the meal. When finished, he went into the sleeping area where the bed was still freshly made, not having been slept in. He opened the closet. There, where he had left them, were the gifts from the angels, given to him with love while visiting and learning in their houses.
A feeling of sad wisdom spread over Michael Thomas. He remembered his question to White: Will I be able to discern the action for the highest good of all? Now he understood the test. The very essence of his existence cried out to return to Earth right now. All he had to do was close the closet, proceed out of the house, and turn left instead of right on the path. He knew it. That would indicate his intent to stop this journey and go back. White had told him that there would be no judgment in it, no guilt, and, of course, no enlightenment.
Mike absolutely knew what the right thing was. Even Anolee had told him that they were all proud of him, and he realized that her heart probably hurt as well. Yet, she had encouraged him to go on. He knew what the greatest good for all was. To turn left would be to serve only himself and his human desires for love. White had told him that his discernment of truth would be keen, and so it was. He felt no doubt as to the correct path, only the incredible pull not to take it. His heart cried out for him to acquiesce to the situation and go back. Nothing would be harmed, and he could continue with his life and find Anolee. Life on Earth would be good then.
He picked up his map and held it close to him, closing his eyes and replaying his time in the Blue House. He slowly put on his armor and felt the power it bestowed on him. He blessed it and thanked God for the precious symbol it represented. He took up the shield and held it with both hands against his chest, savoring what it meant to him. Then he placed it in its carry position, hooked onto his back so it would be instantly available if needed. Like a warrior preparing for battle, he grasped his sword and brandished it with a flourish. He heard the whistling of the wind as the blade sliced the air. He remembered the ceremony with Orange and what the sword represented. Then, he blessed the sword, also, and deftly slid it into the scabbard, sheathed but ready. Mike stood tall in his handsome traveling clothes, and then purposefully left the room.
White was there when Mike came out of the room. He saw the armor, shield, and sword and instantly knew what Mike’s intent was. White smiled and gave Mike a bow, with his hands in a position of prayer—an honor that was completely lost on Mike. Then, he spoke.
“Michael Thomas of Pure Intent, how do you feel?”
“This is difficult, White. You were right. I didn’t know how hard it would be. It is the most difficult thing I have ever had to do. I still don’t feel good about it…but I know what is appropriate and correct. Please, I wish to leave this place. It does not have fond memories.”
“As it shall be.” White turned and led Mike toward the entrance. The angel spoke to Mike over his shoulder as he led the way.
“It’s not over, my human friend.” White was now floating down the grand hallway that led to the front door.
“I know.” Mike didn’t know any details, but his intuition was telling him that there was still much to see and do within his journey, even though he had but one house to visit. His intuition was again correct.
White stood just inside the door while Mike put on his shoes. In retrospect, Mike hadn’t liked the white house very much. White had been correct in his prediction about what Mike might feel, and Mike was glad to be leaving this place. White knew it, but he did not judge Mike’s feelings. Instead, White was actually in awe of this human. The others had been right. Mike was different. He would make it if he could get through the final portion of his journey. His discernment was great, and his resolve was even greater.
Mike had finished with his shoes and took a few steps into the front yard. He stopped and faced the door. White spoke from with in his position just inside the doorway, since he could not venture outside.
“Michael Thomas of Pure Intent, there is no greater love than this...that a man would sacrifice his heart for the benefit of the whole.” White smiled at Mike and slowly shut the door to the house. His last words were barely audible as the door swung shut.
“Not all is at it seems. You will see. You will see. You are dearly loved…”
Mike slowly and wearily sauntered down the walkway of the white house and approached the path. This had not been his favorite house, and he was beginning to tire of that particular phrase uttered so often. It now felt as though everyone had said it—several times. He felt that this white place had extracted much from him, while the reality was that he had extracted much from it. He stood for a long time at the white gate to the house, looking left and then right. Finally, he opened the gate and took his place in the middle of the path itself and stayed very still. He faced left and closed his eyes, being careful not to take a step. He held a small ceremony of his own, and started it by silently asking that the angels he had met be present to hear his pronouncement. Then, he spoke aloud.
“There is no sacrifice here, for I shall meet you face to face, Anolee, and I shall know my unborn children, all in time, when I reach the door to home.”Mike was taking to heart th
e teachings of the angels about the temporary nature of Earth and the absolute reality of Spirit. His statement carried with it the promise of a different kind of love in a very different place, but a reunion, nevertheless. He had resolutely hung his heart on the reality of a sacred meeting in the future, where he would again see the love of his life—his glorious partner. That is where he would spend time loving her—and she, him.
Mike sighed and did an about-face. With long, purposeful strides, Michael Thomas resumed his journey to the final house. His armor softly clanked around him as he walked in the sunshine. He was aware that he was leaving behind one of the greatest promises of happiness that he had ever known. He had turned his back on all of it, and although he was aching inside from the decision, he had the promise of the incredible love of God as his solace, as well as the absolute knowledge that he would indeed see Anolee again. He was pensive, resolute, and serious. Michael Thomas had learned a great deal about love. This house had taught him the most about himself—and God—and it had been the one that had wrung his very soul until the drops of truth and discernment came weeping out for him to recognize and use.
He didn’t look behind him this time. There was no timidness in his deliberate stride. Although somewhat weary, Mike felt empowered and safe. This was now his land. He felt he owned it. He had paid for it. He deserved it. He would soon find out if this was so, for an hour up the road another great test awaited Michael Thomas. IT would provide the battle for his very soul.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The Seventh House
It wasn’t that the weather had turned sour, but it certainly wasn’t what it could have been. Mike was used to either wonderful sunshine with accompanying mild temperatures, or an assault of the elements that would arise almost instantly and pummel a watermelon into a raisin within ten minutes. Today, however, the skies were overcast and had slowly turned a gunmetal gray, giving everything an appearance of sameness. The temperature was becoming a bit chilly, and there was a slight breeze that somehow felt ominous. It pulsed instead of remaining steady, like some kind of forbidding, rhythmic messenger. The clouds didn’t develop into anything worse, but they didn’t seem about to clear, either. Mike had been on the road slightly less than an hour. He wasn’t concerned about the weather, but he was aware of the change.
Mike had pretty much been on “automatic” during this journey to the next house. He remained vigilant, watching behind him for trouble, but his mind was filled with thoughts of the decision he had made. When he had started toward the last house, there was an intense feeling that he had somehow passed an invisible spiritual marker—a seeming demarcation point in his journey. He hadn’t yet let go of the vision of being back on Earth with Anolee and the children at his side, everyone smiling. When his thoughts went there, his heart soared, and he felt relaxed. When he looked ahead of him and saw the winding path leading to an unknown challenge, he felt alone, and his heart grew heavy with a deep sense of permanent loss. No one had died, yet there was a spot in his heart that grieved. Still, he walked forward in deep thought, not noticing that the terrain was changing slowly but dramatically.
Mike rounded the corner of an especially sharp curve. He noticed that he had passed into a canyon of some kind with steep sides sloping up sharply on each side of the path. He observed for the first time that instead of slow rolling hills and lush grass, he now was standing in an almost desertlike landscape with outcroppings of large boulders and cliffs, and an occasional large tree accenting the barrenness of it all. He recognized that he had completely missed the change of topography due to his preoccupation with his thoughts. The path was leading into a gorge with very steep sides. This, plus the gray clouds, diminished the light level even more, so that it might have been dusk rather than early morning. Mike was being “poked” by his intuition. Objects in the distance were not clear. Were they rocks, or...?
Be more alert! Watch for danger!
Mike suddenly became aware that he had been in a mental daze for the last hour. He stopped and took a number of deep breaths, clearing his mind. There was a tingling feeling. What did it mean? Mike obeyed his instincts and looked around him for trouble. He searched the path behind him, looking for the dark entity that had been dogging him each time he ventured out, but he saw nothing. There was no motion. The gray sameness of the past hour had also added to his complacency and his lethargy of thought. Apart from the odd weather and new-looking surroundings, he could see nothing that was unusual or threatening, but his instincts told him that he was being somehow prepared for something. Mike softly thanked his new vibratory power for doing its job. He took out his map. Perhaps it would tell him something.
Mike examined the map. Something was odd. It showed the narrow chasm he was in and the area immediately around him, but there was something different. He looked closer. There! About a hundred yards up the path on the map, just out of sight from where Mike actually stood, was a blank spot. This was unusual. Ordinarily, the odd but very useful map was filled in around the red “you are here” dot. The chart didn’t show much of the future or the past, but what it did show was generally accurate, portrayed in elegant detail. Now, there appeared to be a blank spot up ahead, as if it had been erased. What could a blank spot mean?
“Blue, what does a blank spot on the map indicate?” Mike asked out loud.
Blue didn’t answer, but Mike’s own intuition did. Almost immediately the answer came to him. He remembered that the “thing” that had been following him had kept out of range of the map. Perhaps this was why, because it showed up as a blank spot! Blue had told him that the map was compatible with the “now.” It was the “current” kind of energy around a sacred journey and reflected a certain vibration. Something was ahead that did not belong in the now. Something was just around the corner that was invisible to the map’s high vibratory rate. The absence of information on the map was due to something that was not vibrating at the same level as the sacred land around it.
Mike felt that his analysis was accurate. The thing was lying in wait for him. He should have been more alert! What would he have done had his new intuitive powers not awakened him? He softly cursed his seemingly helpless romantic mind and concentrated instead on the mind of the new warrior inside. It didn’t take long. He felt a peace and power that reflected his intent. He was waking up each cell with the message that something was coming—something important.
“Wake up, everyone!” Mike smiled at the thought of speaking to his biology, and again thought he could hear Green laughing. He missed Green. Humor was a wonderful medicine in this time of preparation. Preparation? For what? A battle?
Suddenly, Mike had a revelation. Like an enormous tidal wave of understanding, thoughts and visualizations came crashing down on him with a horrendous weight of realization. He was motionless. He verbalized his new fear to whatever was listening.
“MY GOD! WHAT IF I AM ACTUALLY SUPPOSED TO USE THESE WEAPONS?”
Mike was shaken. He felt anxiety run through his body. No. This couldn’t be.
“These are New Age symbols of being a warrior of the light! SYMBOLS!” he yelled as he looked skyward and spun around, as if expecting to see some of his angel friends lurking against the walls of the dimly lit gorge. His voice echoed back at him.
“Orange, you never taught me how to fight! So I assumed there would be no real use—” he stopped in mid-sentence. Mike realized that he was shouting. He heard his voice echoing back from the canyon walls. More thoughts ran through his mind. Words spoken by those he had met along the way started coming back to him. He recalled that Red had told him that some tests would frighten him, but he had assumed Red was referring to the storm he had encountered. Now he realized Red had been speaking of things to come, not things past. What was coming? He remembered the recent words of White as he described Mary in the hospital room.
“Don’t let appearances fool you, Michael. She is a warrior of the light. She has slain the giant and is powerful!”
Slain the
giant? Then, he remembered the words White had spoken as Mike was leaving the white cottage.
“It’s not over, my human friend.”
All these warnings and nuances. Is there is a battle coming? A real one? One where I’ll have to actually USE the sword? Mike sat down on the path. His knees were weak with fear and panic. He wasn’t a warrior—not a real one!
“Angels, you didn’t prepare me for this!” he said to the gray sky and the menacing canyon walls. “I don’t fight! Why would such a thing be? Real battles and real weapons represent an old vibration. They represent an old way of thinking. They are not appropriate here!” There was an odd stillness. The wind died. It was deathly quiet, and then the voices began.
“Unless you are about to fight an old energy.” He heard the clear voice of Orange. Mike instantly stood up and twirled around as if to find out where the voice was coming from.
“And unless you are about to fight a biology that doesn’t vibrate as high as yours.” He recognized the voice of Green! The angels’ voices were coming from inside him.
“And unless who you are about to meet really isn’t part of your family, Michael.” It was the voice of Red!
“And unless there is no love there, Michael.” He heard the soothing and wonderful voice of White!
“I DIDN’T KNOW!” cried an anxious Michael Thomas. “I’m not a real warrior, White!”
“Neither was Mary, Michael.” White’s voice was comforting.
“The old energy responds to the old paradigm, Michael. That’s what it understands.” It was the lovely feminine voice of Violet!
