People often ask me to write down my stories, especially the spiritual tales of my life. So I decided to. Mainly, because I forget over half of them, and writing them down makes me thankful. Maybe that is the real reason. When I look at all the remarkable things which have happened to me in life, i am thankful. And it’s clear we enter His courts by being thankful. Hopefully, some of these stories make you thankful also.
I’m going to publish some of these tales here, as I am too inept to find a real publisher. Hope you enjoy them. Some of these are just rough sketches-kindling for the fire.
I’m not going to tell the whole story of my experience of 911, but here is what led up to it for me. Im in England, i have an acute sense that i must go to the airport. I do, and feel i need to buy a ticket to Boston Logan. I sense the airline to fly. I do. I’m land in Boston, and sense i need to rent a car and drive to NYC. As I arrive on the George Washington bridge, the first tower is hit.
The cars stop , national emergency signs start blinking, jets fly overhead, and i see an enormous cloud like a black dragon forming over the towers. I get out. Lots of people are running. I see truckers crying. I leave my car, go to a payphone call my parents, then call people I know in the city. I’m not sure at this point whether we are at war, or if this was an internal attack. There was lots of confusion in the air, along with the bodies eventually, and paper cups, zero machines, and shoes, and lots and lots of smoke.
That’s all I want to say here. I’ll return to this story often throughout these pages.
Afterwards, peace came over me through a woman and her son who were swimming in a nearby lake. They did not know what was happening and were in that simple exchange of a mother and child. Somehow seeing them being normal and very human ministered peace to my shaky body.
I did not sleep for three days after 911. Not until I delivered a red scarf to my fiancé in Cincinatti. That’s another story.
I had bought the scarf as a gift, thinking that delivering this romantic silk gift was the purpose of my coming back to America. In truth there were three parts to my coming back. One to bear witness to 911 as it happened; two to court and solidify my love for a woman, who should eventually become my wife; and three to tell a young man to move to a different state. I love threes, but I didn’t realize I had a three part mission on this trip until much later.
When I arrived in Cincinnati I was led to go to a particular parking lot and wait until I saw a woman getting out of a car. I waited for about twenty minutes, no woman came. About to leave, when a woman pulls up just in front of me. Ask her, if she knows Amy, a voice whispered. So, i got out of my car, and asked the lady.
Sure enough, she was Amy’s best friend. She was shocked, but being quite spiritually adventurous herself, led me back to where Amy lived. Amy was at work. I left the scarf on her pillow, and pressed on to the last part of my mission.
I don’t remember why i didn’t stay the night, until Amy came home, but something was pressing me on. I drove to Denver for the next part.
I had a dream of a young man who needed direction. Where is he? I don’t know Denver, and felt I didn’t have much time to stay there.
I go to a particular coffee shop. When I get near it, i start hearing, this young man needs to move to a particular other city. I walk into the shop, and look around. There is one artistic looking guy in the back corner. I get his name before i meet him, and ask him if that is indeed his name. It is, I give the word I was carrying. We talk for a while, and I leave, heading towards California.
That’s all for now, on that three part tale.