In the course of their discussion and walking, they found themselves again in the midst of the garden. Kole stopped and looked around it. “My Lord, we have arrived at the two trees.”
“Yes, Kole.”
“These trees, was only one of them forbidden to be used for food?” asked Kole.
“Yes, Kole.”
“I was wondering, Master, why then would my parents have chosen to eat of the forbidden fruit if other fruit of like kind was so close at hand?”
“We had hoped they would choose differently,” answered the Creator.
“But why would my parents choose so poorly? Choose to disobey? Why would they not have eaten of the other first, and perhaps sated their curiosity with the fruit of the tree that was not forbidden, when both seem so equally abundant in fruit?”
“Only one was in season when your mother was approached by the serpent and made her choice, Kole.”
“Only one?”
“Yes.” Suddenly they were standing beneath one of the trees, although Kole had no memory of crossing the meadow. “This fruit,” said the Creator, reaching up and pulling a piece of the translucent fruit from a low limb, “the fruit of the tree of life, was not in season at the time, but merely budding.”
“This fruit gives life forever?” asked Kole, a fleeting thought of snatching it from the Creator’s hand and quickly swallowing a bite passed through Kole’s mind, but he dismissed it, shocked at himself for having such an idea.
“It is the Father that gives eternal life, Kole. It is His gift to whom He would choose.”
“Whom will He choose, Lord?” asked Kole, actually meaning, will He choose me?
“He has chosen already, Kole,” smiled the Creator.
“He has?”
“Yes, and their names have been written down in a book of life.”
“A book?”
“A list of sorts,” said the Creator. “Just as you know the names of each of your sheep, so too does the Father know the names in my flocks. He has known them from the foundation of the world.”
“Does He know my name, Lord?”
“He knows all names, Kole, and He has chosen you for a special task. Are you willing to hear of it?”
“I am, Lord.”
“A man desires to know his future Kole. I will tell you yours.”
“Yes, Lord?”
“It has been ordained that you should be a tool in the hand of the living God. Much as you hold a staff in your hand, you will be a tool in God’s service. The feet of man walk each step of the journey, but the man’s staff, although constantly present in his hand, travels only from point to point. You will be directed to the point that the Father has need of you. You will be His witness to spectacular events. You will see His hand at work in all that He does, for His hand will never be far from you. You will watch, and you will do as He designs. He will place you before your brothers and before their children’s children. He will position you to assist those whose names He knows. He will work through you to ensure that I will lose none of my flock, for I am the good shepherd. You will be guided and directed all the days of your life, and you will feel the Father’s spirit as He imbues you with special gifts and privileges.
But this task, Kole, is yours alone. This task is not to be revealed by your mouth. It is a special covenant that We will have with you to be locked away in your heart and preserved until the fullness of time. Do you understand, Kole, what I have said to you?”
“No, my Lord. I do not understand this thing entirely.”
The man, whether as gardener, shepherd, friend, or Creator laughed a genuine laugh, the sound of it causing the leaves above their heads to dance. “Kole, my dear friend, you have an honesty in you that touches me. I love you. This will not be the easiest path for a man to walk, but I will walk it with you Kole, and from time to time, we will walk it together.”
Kole nodded.
“You are not yet being given the gift of eternal life, Kole. That gift is far in the future for you, my friend. But God has granted you longevity of life, a life far longer than any other man will know. You will live just as you are now Kole, to see the end. All that you know will grow old and die. Many that you love will be lost from you while you yet remain. You will have sorrows in your heart that only God Himself will understand. And yet you will know much joy. You will revel with God as you witness firsthand His awesome plan unfold. You are being called, Kole, and you have been chosen because of the integrity found in you. And, because you were born without the penalties of your parents’ sin found in you. You are the only man born before the earth was cursed. Do you accept the Lord’s will for you Kole?”
“I do,” Kole said in a small, whispered voice, the sound catching in his throat at the enormity of what his Creator had revealed to him.
“Then by your own word, Kole, I grant you the seed of life.”
The Creator took the fruit from the tree of life that was in his hand and broke it open. From the center of it He plucked out six of the glowing, orange seeds that Kole had seen, shining through its pale skin. The Creator held them out in his hand to Kole, and Kole stared at the seeds. Each glowed and winked with life, like the coals that Kole had so often studied at the bottom of his family’s campfire. They pulsated and throbbed with an appearance of eagerness.
“Take these Kole, and swallow them whole.”
The hesitation that Kole felt lasted for only a moment. Here was a gift, the gift of a long life, offered freely and right from the very hand of his Creator. For a moment He felt a blush rising in his cheeks, a burning in his face that reminded him of his feelings whenever Kesitah would grace him with a knowing smile.
But this was the smile of his God. If fire from heaven could fall and burn up an offering at the Lord’s acceptance of it, what would happen now that God had shown His acceptance of him, Kole, a man who just happened to be born when he was? He was not special. He had done no special thing to earn this honor. His father, Adam, had once asked him to lead a family hunting trip for food. He had felt big. He had felt like a man that day for the first time. He had wanted so much to lead a successful hunt, to please his father. And here he stood, feeling those same feelings, yet how much more so now, knowing he was being given an opportunity to please his Creator’s Father, his Father in heaven.
Kole held out his hand and accepted the seeds from the Creator. Six seeds each slick with the juice from the fruit of the tree of life. How amazed his parents would be, but he could not tell them. He had vowed to keep this secret of the Eternal until the fullness of all things. When would that be, Kole wondered.
He looked up and the man, the Creator, was watching him, studying him as if he were a newly-birthed animal. He saw wonder and love in the Creator’s eyes, and he wondered if his own thoughts were as obvious to the Creator as the purple stain on his new robe was to him. He picked up one of the seeds with two of his fingers and placed it in his mouth. He swished it around a couple of times and then swallowed it whole as he had been instructed. He did the same with the other five. The taste was sweet, like a warm honey, and they slid down his throat with ease. When he had swallowed all the seeds he looked up into the smiling eyes of his Creator.
He sensed a musical quality about the man that he had not noticed before. Indeed, the two trees, the grass, the wind, each had a tone and a rhythm that had not been detectible moments earlier. A low thrum came from the meadow grasses. Actually several different tones as Kole noticed for the first time the variety of grains that composed the landscape about him. Each seemed to have its own sound. The breath of the wind hummed an entire mood in tune with the grasses but with a different pitch and meter, perfectly complimented. The trees themselves seemed to fill in blank spots in the music of the world, rising in and fading out with a soft brilliance of sound, while the man who stood before Kole, the Creator, seemed the f
inest sound of all and encompassed all the sounds in a glorious harmony, a celestial whispered blending as if every sound came to pay homage to the sound that He was; the sound of the Word within the music of creation.
The patterns were breathtaking, and truly Kole stopped breathing as he listened with newly opened ears. He heard in the distance the sweet burble of the river over rocks and felt that the water and the rocks each heard the music of the clearing.
The water played a vibration of strings in and around the gentle undulations of the land while the stones beat out a rhythm that was low and wild. He heard too the sound that his own body made, an easy lilt of minor sounds, perfectly accompanying the song going on all around him. He glanced up at the heavens and watched the stars pulse with the pace of the earth’s music, felt the moon’s voice praising the creation around him, singing of its own love for the earth and the creator of it, and he heard the heavens glorify God.
Yet beneath the beauty of the event was one sour note, a longing for release, as if by some unseen measure the words were missing, the completeness of the sound was prevented, as if an invisible finger were placed in an invisible ear, muting the full expression of the harmonies of the creation; the song of man’s curse.
“Do you hear it, Kole?” asked the Creator.
“I do,” answered Kole.
“Do you see the light, Kole?”
It was only then that Kole noticed that the light too had changed. Just as each bit of creation offered its own voice to the orchestra of life, so too did they shine each with their own bath of light. Each stem of grass, each rock, each animal at the edge of the clearing, each star in the heaven, shone with an additional halo of light, an aura of life that glowed and pulsed and shone with the music played—green and red and blue light, and golden—dancing with the sound of each one’s voice. Light that he had never seen, light that he wasn’t sure he was seeing, played upon the landscape of his eyes, amusing him, examining him.
“It’s so beautiful.”
“There is more, Kole. This is but a glimpse, yet it will serve you. This light, this sound, that you, alone of all men, perceive, will serve you as you need it. Each sound is but a vibration of each part of each creation’s light. Yet the light can be used, harnessed by the proper combination of sounds. The light is but a power that gives off its own music, but the sound is a tool that can harness the light and cause it to give off new sound, some so marvelous that even while it plays, you will not hear it. You will find that it is one of the Father’s gifts to you. Do you find it a good gift?”
“It is perfect,” said Kole.
“Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow of turning. Of His own will He brought man forth by the Word of truth, that there might be a kind of first fruits of His creatures.”
“First fruits?” Kole looked perplexed but recognized the term from earlier in their conversation.
“Indeed, we are most blessed, Kole, you and I.”
“Yes, I feel that way,” said Kole no longer able to stand but dropping down to his knees in the dirt beneath the trees.
“Yes, it is time to give thanks,” and the Creator put both His hands upon Kole’s head and prayed.
“Father, your name is holy, and we speak it in reverence and with great love, for on this day this man lives, not according to the flesh, that will die, but by your spirit that puts to death the deeds of the body and lives. For as many as you will lead with your spirit are now your sons. We hear the groaning of this creation beneath the beauty, eagerly awaiting the revealing of all your children. Your son, my brother, Kole, has come to seek the reason and the cause of Abel’s death, though he knew already its source. But what is now revealed to him is that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that shall be revealed. For your creation was subjected to futility, so that man in his sinful state might retain some measure of dominion over it, as you have declared. But as each man, and all mankind, returns to you through the sacrifice of your first born, the creation itself will also be delivered of God. This is where we have placed our hope, knowing that all things work together for good to those who love you, to those who are called according to your purpose. So be it.”
“So be it,” Kole repeated.
The Creator removed His hands from Kole’s forehead, and Kole felt suddenly very weak. He summoned just enough strength to ask, “Must I be sacrificed, my Lord, as the first born? What should I do?”
The Creator answered, “The first born will be another, Kole. It is not you.”
“My child?” he asked.
“Your brother’s child.”
“Cain’s?”
“Seth’s.”
“Seth? I have no brother named Seth.”
“There you are wrong, Kole. Even now Seth is known to me.”
“Seth…” Kole murmured, filling with sleep.
“Yes, Kole, and a child from Seth’s line will find favor in the eyes of the Lord. And a child from that child will become the firstborn of many brothers.”
“I don’t understand,” said Kole.
“You will, Kole. The Father will want you there. But for now you should sleep. You should sleep and not dream. For the world will be very different when you wake up.”
And Kole closed his eyes as he lay down on the grass and listened to the world singing and slept.
“Last call,” yelled the bartender from behind his glossed mahogany counter.
Lester glanced over at him and then around the room at the two dozen or so patrons still in the bar. A quick glance down at his watch showed the time to be 11:45 p.m.
“Al,” said Lester as Al put the second journal away, “I can’t believe it’s so late already. This is an amazing tale.”
“Not so much a tale,” said Al, “as a story; my story.”
“It’s phenomenal, Al. Almost too incredible, don’t you think? I mean, I’m just a guy. I work, I eat, I party. I come home after a long day and fall asleep in my easy chair with a beer between my legs. Who am I to hear this story? Who am I that you would think I could believe all this?”
“You’re my friend, Lester, and I picked you because we’ve known each other a long time. There’s no one else I’d rather tell. And I believe that the Lord put you into my life for this purpose.”
“What? Not just to be your friend? Not to be your buddy but just to hear you tell a story?”
“Among other things,” replied Al.
“Do you really feel that God chose me to hear you say all these things?” asked Lester, with no little skepticism.
“I do.”
Lester shook his head. “To think that my buddy has walked in the Garden of Eden, has talked to God, eaten seeds from the tree of life, and lived nearly six thousand years. Its gonna’ take me more than a day and a few drinks to buy it hook, line and sinker.”
“The Lord works in mysterious ways,” Al grinned. “He must have a plan for you as well. Perhaps you need to know this story to be equipped for what comes next.”
“What comes next?” asked Lester.
“That I do not know,” said Al.
They sat in silence for a minute as the waitress drifted over.
“Last call, boys,” she said. “Can I get you one more?”
“Al?”
“Nothing for me thanks.”
“Well, I’ll have one more before he closes his tab,” said Lester.
“I’ll be right back,” said the waitress. “I’ll bring you your bill, sir.”
“Thank you,” said Al.
As the waitress left to get Lester his last Coors Light, he took a drag from his still freshly lit cigarette.
“All these years we’ve known each other, Al…to think y
ou’ve been living a life that seemed pretty normal. It’s beyond me. I think I’d have gone bonkers years ago if I were you.”
“Maybe I did go bonkers, Les. Maybe this, what you see before you, is my version of bonkers.”
“Yeah, well you fit right in,” said Lester.
“The thing is, Les, I have a lot more to tell you than just my life story, and I’m running out of time.”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, I told you a month or so ago that I’m moving to the Middle East next week.”
“Do you really think that’s wise, right now? The way things are shaping up over there?” asked Lester.
“Well, wise or not, I’ve got one more thing to do for God, and I can’t just run from it. Remember the story of Jonah?”
“Vaguely,” said Lester, “but what do you mean ‘one more thing?’ Are we that close to the end, Al?”
“Yeah, we’re that close.”
Lester sighed, “And here I never even learned to play the guitar.”
“Start now. There’s still time.”
The waitress came back with a draft beer, and Al’s check for thirty-four dollars and fifteen cents. “We’re out of cold bottles, sir. It was this or a can. Is a draft okay?”
“Draft’s fine by me,” said Lester.
The waitress smiled. “It’s on the house.”
“Well, thank you very much.”
Al handed her three twenty dollar bills. “Keep the change, my dear.”
“Oh, thank you sir. Have a good night.”
When she had gone, Lester said, “Twenty-five dollar tip, Al? That’s pretty generous.”
“Well, you can’t take it with you.”
“No, but you could leave it behind for your old buddy,” quipped Lester.
“The thought has crossed my mind.”
“Really?”
“Don’t look so eager for me to check out.”
All Living : A Seedvision Saga (9781621473923) Page 8
