looking back. looking forward.

i've always been a reader.
mother use to tell me i would sit in the hallway
for hours, with a pile of books next to me,
as high as my little blonde head,
devouring them one by one -
as if it was normal for a child
to be so fancied with paper and words.

in kindergarten my teacher allowed me to
read the large english text books of the upperclassman
during nap time.
i remember looking forward to this glorious event after lunch
every single day.
my classmates would scurry to their cubbies for their blankets
while i scurried to the bookshelf to find my new adventure.
i would station myself next to the window
and read by the afternoon sunlight
streaming through the windows, while dust floated through the air,
and the teacher shut
off the lights while all the other children dozed into dreaming.

i've always chosen reading over sleeping.
i'd lay in bed at nights, for hours, turning page after page:
there would be novels about mysterious lands,
and adventurous children,
and days long, long ago.
mother would peek her head in every 30 minutes or so to tell me
it was time for bed, being it that school was the next morning
but she rarely had the heart to tear me away.
finally she began to allow me to read until i pleased,
and i'd finish books in a night...
filling my little brain
and feeding my hungry heart - as i longed for adventure,
and i thirsted for greatness.

i believe i was (as most are) born with that little voice within that cries out for...
something bigger than myself.
escapades further than i'd known.
life outside my little room and my little body and my little boundaries
which normalcy so often forms for us.

i clearly remember the first time i read through the bible.
i can remember the book so clearly,
with it's thick white cover - and the cartoon drawn characters
so brightly colored and wide eyed.
it was a children's bible - highlighting the main stories of scripture.
adam & eve
abraham & isaac
jacob & esau
joseph & his brothers
moses & the israelites
jesus in the manger
paul shipwrecked
and finally revelation.

being intrigued by last weeks sunday school
i picked it up off my short little bookshelf
and crawled to the end of the bed
lying on my belly with my feet kicking up in the air
i even remember the lighting of the room,
with it's seemingly high ceilings,
glowing white walls,
and fan spinning and twirling above me.
i read it from front to back, and even had some
feelings of "holiness" which were probably my
first encounters with sickening self-righteousness
i'm not sure how old I was.
1st grade?
2nd grade?

the book of revelation was my all-time favorite
i reread it's large text many times over -
with all it's colors and numbers and trumpets and seals...
i was fascinated and wondered why it had never been
spoken about in church, being it was more
intriguing to me than offering teachings,
the hymns we sung, or any other science fiction/fantasy novel
i had come across.

there was something about it that drew me into it's mystery.

i also can recall my second encounter with it,
in the same room, around the same time of night, upon the same little bed
with it's floral sheets and white and golden bed posts...
this time, however, it was a new little bible.
my mother had passed it down to me a couple months before
as a very ceremonious mother/daughter event.
my family wasn't big on tradition -
we weren't organized enough for that,
but i distinctly remember this being a rather precious event.
the bible was old. my mother had received it when she was 12,
her mother's dedication was beautifully scripted behind the front cover
which was encased with red leather, full of creases
and loosing it's binding as time wore on.

it was the living translation
written like a little book - yet sticking pretty true to interpretation.
it had ancient looking maps in the back, creased page corners,
and photos taken in the 60's of Jerusalem and the red sea.

i found myself stumbling upon that final chapter again
as i sat upon my bed reading through it's words
i read it and reread it, many times over.
i wasn't sure how to take it. symbolism? reality?
and all i could think of was the terrifying words:
THE MARK OF THE BEAST
it caused me to tremble within...
for who was this terrifying beast?
and how would he try to mark us?
branding with hot irons?
tattoos to our foreheads?
i even began to recall a conversation I had overheard about new inventions coming out of implanting microchips into the arms of all citizens
this, they said with such scandal, would be for anyone who wished to by or sell...
a precursor, they said, of
THE MARK OF THE BEAST

I thought about this beast, and this terrifying antichrist
who i imagined would have fangs and eyeballs that glowed
i read about the dragon and the horns
and i grew frustrated with my lack of understanding.
when i didn't understand,
i got frustrated
in all things really.
my puffed up, prideful little heart liked to grasp everything
immediately, and hated to submit to questioning on my part
or teaching on another's.

i had become a school contained.
my own education system.
that is why i read during science
and drew pictures during history.
i would wait until the evening to teach myself.

i don't think i ever learned how to learn.

anyways - back to little girl upon the bed reading apocalyptic literature.
i left revelation that night, and decided not to return to it for awhile.
it seemed a tad too frightening
and so very irrelevant to my little life
of american eagle graphic tees
and trips to the teen center
and craft making with alex.
plus, no one talked about it anyway,
so obviously they were terrified of it too.

it's funny... now i find myself in a place
that spends almost every saturday night focused
upon that book and its' enigmas
they dive into that which is entitled, truly, the REVELATION of Jesus
and in it's terrifying beatuy, I've found an entryway
into the heart of the Father
and the passion of His Son.

perfect love has driven out fear.

and there were other books that I was drawn to:
one such were novels written about martyrs - the young, the old,
the men, the women.
i found martyrdom and persecution fascinating.
it probably all comes back to what C.S. Lewis means when
he talks about our longing for eternity.
for adventure authored by the Lord
our deep yearning for that which will come with the Millennial Kingdom
our desire for greatness
and fascination
and beauty

and so these things, hidden within the heart of a small little girl
with big blue eyes that so often found themselves hidden within books
day after day,
plagued me and left me wanting.

old victorian martyrs
and those found in the days of the great roman empire
moved my heart the most
i just pictured myself in a corseted dress
with my brownish blonde locks tied up in a fancy way
facing the rugged, wicked roman soldiers
with such grace and elegance
dignity shining upon my face
as i proclaimed my love for Jesus
which brought the sword to my throat.

i always longed to be a martyr,
for reasons i could never quite identify,
besides the aforementioned which doesn't seem to be enough
to cause a child to pine for her own murder.

by the time i reached high school,
i firmly decided upon two things.
1.) the Lord told me I was going to be a martyr
2.) that must mean I am called to be a missionary to the middle-east.
I came upon that revelation while sitting in a small house in
a village in Thailand.
I was smooshed up against a wall with my other 15 teammates,
while my friend joshua played away on the guitar
and the zealous teenagers cried out for the power of God.

I can see it so clearly, my little blue journal upon my knees
as I closed my eyes and decided this is what had to be done.
if i was to be a martyr, what other path was there?
the life of a missionary seemed to be the only way.

american christianity was too passive
and therefore i was driven into believing i was called to the dangerous
parts of the world...
the dark corners persecution was found.

not because i longed to die for Jesus (though I did)
but because i believed that that was what the Lord told me to do
and i was willing to do anything...
to graduate high school and "change the world"
to live a full life for God...
you know the typical feelings every young, enthusiastic Christian gets after reading "through gates of splendor" or going to a commissioning service at Teen Mania

now i look upon that time with a smile and a little laughter
at my young zeal and extreme naivety.
i see things so different now.
the book of revelation.
martyrdom.
love in the One coming upon the white horse,
who will soon
split the clouds.

i am sitting here at barnes in noble,
in a usual green striped chair with folk music blaring above my head
and an old man with loafers to my right.
earlier i had picked up a book by "Voice of the Martyrs"
and read about a handful of the thousands of brave souls, who are be tortured, imprisoned, or killed for their faith
heroes scattered all throughout history.
i read about perpetua - the beautiful wife and mother - who
raised her hands and sang to her Beloved as the sword pierced her throat
and Siao-Mei, a 5 year old from China, who willingly took on imprisonment with her mother in the name of Jesus
and Walter Milne, a 52 year old man, who joyfully burned at the stake and brought thousands into the kingdom by his bravery and love

I sit here, trying to cry quietly, as not to disturb those browsing through books
and reading newsweek.
I cry because Jesus is real, and eternity is real, and
the coming Judge, He who is going to make
ALL THE WRONG THINGS RIGHT,
is absolutely, undoubtedly, REAL.
and it is no loss, it is no sacrifice, it is no cost, to take upon affliction
and suffering and death for His name
out of love.
all for love.
because He loves.

I sit here and cry because this will no longer be a reality for
missionaries in un-reached tribes and middle-east nations
but the Church at large
as evil increases and the lust of the Harlot of Bablyon arises
to drink the spilled blood of thousands whom
didn't shrink back nor let their love grow cold.

soon, very soon, my friends, our proclamation shall be,
"We overcame the enemy,
by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of our testimony;
not loving our lives so much as to
SHRINK BACK FROM DEATH."

Soon, very soon, my beloved, we shall complete
the book of martyrs, and write it's final chapter.

Soon, very soon, the book of revelation will come alive
before our very eyes...
and we shall be tortured and killed because we will not take the mark
and

He shall come to vindicate His bride
and usher in the Year of the Lord we have
so longed for within our hearts.

Very soon.
Very soon.

[yes, the whisperings within the heart of my childhood will be answered, and we will be caught up within a drama so much greater than ourselves.]

Amen
(so be it.)