Over four hundred years ago the gospel of Jesus Christ sailed across the seas in earthen vessels that came ashore to a land thought to be the new world.  It was there on the sands of that place a curious confusion began to unfold. Quite somber and dressed in all black, men in funny hats spoke all manner of peculiar things.

Certainly, the Great Spirit in the Sky had sent strong winds to blow the sails of the ship belonging to the out-of-the-ordinary men. It was commonly known no man can cross the great waters unless the Sky God blow the sails.

The Sky God’s sons remembered to do no wrong to any sojourner in their land. In obedience they resolved to treat the strangers as brothers, with the same natural affection. The intricacies of future difficulties eluded the Sky God’s sons. Surely the foreigners will develop and learn the tongue of the land-peoples.

Twenty-one feasts are celebrated in unity, the sons add goodness to their faith. To goodness a desire for knowledge is granted. Ideas are expressed, though it is unclear if the foreigners can discern what is taught. The scholarly scribes with silver shoe art have grown disdainful of the common tongue; their dialect is comprised of marks made with a quill dipped in a blacker-than-night substance.

The sojourners have among their prized possessions delicate sheets bound in cattle hide. Upon the tender pages are lovely painted pictures and assorted lines meant to tell a story. The distance the immigrants have traveled lends credence to their insistence that the dark lines upon the sacred vellum are of eternal importance.

The cherished marks are meant to bear a sound which conveys a meaning, however not a unique one, and to further complicate matters varying combinations of the marks, correctly ordered, form a different understanding. The neat rows of characters form the story within the binding.

God’s sons, seemingly grown and crowned with bold feathers, others in coal-black felted wool gathered frequently; a childlike community had evolved.  A willingness to communicate through symbols proved effective and the migrants lived in harmony with the locals for some time.

Time passed and god’s sons developed together, though quite differently.  Eventually an inability to gain unified clarity as to the intent behind the paper words caused frustration to mount and the clouds darkened in disapproval.  

The bewildering marks held in high esteem by the wayfarers held no meaning to the land-dwellers.  Vexing issues arose and the peoples cried out to the Sky God to capture the Spirit of Confusion who had taken liberties and nettled the sons of God.

In chants they sang to the Great Spirit cajoling him with dances and waving arms.  With determination the sky god’s sons sought him. They sought Him in visions, dreams, quests. Chieftains took long pilgrimages. The Great Spirit has tangled the tongues of the foreigners and only He can discern their speech; it is only He that can unravel the secrets of the mysterious marks.

With great billowing clouds of smoke, a message is carried to the clouds. Wisdom is politely summoned. She will gladly bear her sister Insight.  Insight and Wisdom, two accomplished sisters gifted with knowledge and fully illuminated perception. 

Many moons pass and the varied peoples argue atrociously.  Brothers hating brothers. Hostilities grew and misunderstandings stacked high upon the altar of hurt until the entire dreaded thing collapsed under the weight of disgust. Impatience had settled on the spirits of many and though The Great Spirit had advised against ignorance some harbored distrust and became querulous.

As more migrants arrived in the land some of these grew defensive. With each passing moon the sons of God witnessed men become the same, as though convinced they had captured the sky god within fragile gilt pages. Alliances crept in and the Spirit of Animosity settled within their borders. Factions formed from a deep underbelly of resentment.

Wars were common and blood soaked the land as squabbles over inheritance rights erupted. God’s sons forgot the old ways and embraced the Spirit of Darkness. They defiled themselves with word curses that were spit from mouths like seeds.

What is planted must be sown and what grew but an ugly darkness with wicked tendrils that stretched into every heart that would surrender unto It. Black hearts organized themselves as they have always done since the beginning. Agencies were birthed sharing one evil commonality and goal, to rob the agency of every man.

Generations lived and died under this feudal system with no exceptions; each generation having been indoctrinated to accept tyranny cleverly disguised as freedom. Agreements were made among those who count and hidden from those who do not.  

This is the way of the world; the children of darkness are more cunning than the children of light. Their evil machinations have manipulated the masses, they have come only to kill, steal, and destroy.

Blood spillers. The earth cries with the voice of generations; the rejected ones, the captives, the lost. A deafening cacophony felt more than heard for the hearing of it would drive one mad.

Winged ones take flight, soaring to heights unseen, reporting before the Superior Winged Celestials whose job it is to record the things of the sons of God, the happenings of this realm.

This realm is one of chaos, but the one above is one of order.

The oppressors have stolen the minds of the people and evil is returned for good.  Families are destroyed from within. Betrayal is rampant and authenticity almost nonexistent.

Tears of the Sky God’s daughter flood over banks; her spirit has grown icy causing the lake to freeze.  

Wicked entities disguised as masters of this realm have enchanted it, warring directly against the Spirit of Peace. A mighty winged One stands making intercession.  A book of remembrance is opened.  

In a stately show of love the Sky God does a new thing, in a new way. Resolutely filling a precious vessel with the Spirit of His precious Son, the Sky God sends word to Judah’s daughter. A Guardian with a golden tongue will arrive to unravel a puzzle which has traumatized over twenty generations.

Petulant and overcome with waiting, mired in the muck of disorientation, the Sky God’s daughter tosses her divinely given restraint away from herself. She refuses to relent; Despair has become her; the Spirit of Hindsight evades her and Foresight is nowhere to be found.

The Sky God calls down to remind Judah’s daughter, “be not ignorant of this one thing, one day is as a thousand years with the Lord, and a thousand years as one day”.

The daughter repents of her impatience as her rage becomes undone. The vain waiting is over. Centuries of tears are dried as she unwraps the exquisitely ornate vessel prepared before the foundations of the earth.

The Guardian is otherworldly, a gentle soul filled with mirth and acumen. A gentle breeze with healing laughter carrying divine insight from across the big waters.  Mighty vessel. A seraphic sister. An undeserved gift and a high sign of favor.

A bestowal that is more than imagined, an endowment of epic proportions. She raises her voice to sing praises to the Sky God for his blessing. The prayers are incense, they pass through the cloud cover and are heard.

Great Spirit,

You call me out onto the waters, into the deep, where my enemy drowns.  I am held in your warm embrace.

The new and beautiful thing you are doing on your earth is growing just as you said. Your daughter from across the seas has reached out to me and her spirit is a testament to your promise. We have become fast friends, quick sisters. We call you Promise Keeper.

You promised two witnesses regarding your son Jesus. You sent witnesses over the earth over two thousand years ago to share the gospel. When I called to you, called out across the waters, your answer came from across the sea. Over five hundred moons ago you foretold these things O Great One.

You once told me that fire would come and I would be thrust into it. You told me to be brave, you promised I would not be burned or even smell of smoke, that You would rescue me safely. You promised that no one would even know I had been in the flames of affliction.  You prophesied true, O King.

I am reminded again of your words, “Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth; shall ye not know it? I will even make a way in the wilderness, and rivers in the desert.”

This place. Mountainous triage.

This sister. Golden Guardian.

Your new thing. Ruling and Reigning.

Truly rivers of water have sprung up in the dry places of my soul.  So many moons have passed since you promised to return, to rule forever. Your promise to return one day to burn the wicked and rescue the righteous called according to your divine purpose is close.

Yes father, I will go and speak to your sheep as you command. Gladly so.

You know right well, Father, we cry for the tribeless.

Great Spirit, your love cascades over us soaking parched souls. 

A heart’s wish fulfilled by surrender.

This new thing you do Spirit, this new move of your Holy Spirit, this restoration, these collaborations are very humbling. In humility and fierce gratitude, Father, we thank you. My sister is gentle and direct, concise, wise, funny, and well spoken! So much more that words cannot describe. She is a blessed vessel of your love.

My walk on this earth had left me bitter, your spirit renewed my mind. Before you opened my darkened eyesight, I was unaware of your limitless favor and mercy.

Your vessels carry his spirit an embodiment of yourself, here in this realm. 

You have allowed my eyes to perceive it.

Have your way, Great Spirit in the Sky

-your daughter

Flathead Valley, Adar 2024.

(the great migration, circa 1630 and beyond)