“THE ENCOUNTER III” > The story is written in fictional form, but it is not fiction, I am living this every day. Signed: Don.
Don was anxious to get a feel for downtown, but it was Wednesday and there was Church tonight. Nevertheless, he still felt led to do it, and if he was going to, then he had to do it right. “It’s not by might, nor by power, but by thy Spirit, Lord.” Have we forgotten what that means? I think we have.”
His coffee was half gone as he pondered, still setting in the dark and journal by his side. “I had forgotten, Lord. I know you have your remnant. You always have your remnant, but I don’t think they are around me. Who’s preaching it? I don’t hear them anywhere. You had to almost break my back to slow me down enough to hear. I hear ya, Lord. Push the plate back. Fast. I’m going out tonight on a spiritual walk-about. I will fast this whole day until sometime tonight…downtown…I’ll know when it is right. By thy Spirit, Lord. Have we forgotten what that means? If anything supernatural is going to come of this, I’m a Priest. I’m gonna do it right this time, Lord. I’m bringing back the ‘old ways’. The devil is going to know a ‘caped’, a ‘covered’, an ‘anointed’ crusader has come to town.”
“This is war, Satan. Yeah, that’s right, I’m talking to you. It’s no secret. You’ve heard my prayers. No sense being bashful about this. God is sending me into the streets of downtown and you already know it, already planning your devices and setting your traps. We might as well be honest about this, I see your face on a ‘wanted poster’ on every wall, and I’m God’s Bounty Hunter. I come in the name of the Lord, in his priesthood, and there will be sacrifice. I’m not the fool I used to be, Satan, when I used to fight you on your terms. I’m coming in the name of Jesus, and I’m coming for you. There will be sacrifices, and I will remember who the real enemy is. It is not my fellow-man, but it is you Satan. It is you. The evil running rampant in the streets is you. My fights not with them, my fight is with you. I fight ‘for’ them, to see you defeated in their life, and so I pray, and I fast, and I come to you in the power of a Priest, for what is a Priest of Christ about if it is not sacrifice? And what is love if it is not sacrificial? Have we forgotten, Lord? I think we have. Thank you for reminding me, Holy Spirit.”
Church service ran later than normal that night, and as Don climbed into his black 1990 Dodge Ram pick-up, it was already dark. He slammed the door, and then slammed it again because it did not always catch the first time. He sat there for a minute listening within, to his soul. He had not expected Church to run this late, did he still feel led to catch a bus downtown? He had studied it out on the Internet. He needed exact change, $1.75. The 10th street bus stop was closest to his home and it ran straight downtown. He would be walking the streets after dark, but there would still be plenty of lights and activity. He could pray at Monument Circle, get a feel for things, set on a bench in the Garden Center and watch people below, assuming he survived the bus trip.
“Yes, I still feel to go. Grab the lion by the throat and don’t look back.” He turned the key in the ignition switch and duel pipes rumbled to life. He liked the sound of that thunder, because that is the way he felt.