The First Awakening
By Joshua Chapman
The man's eyes fluttered open. What a horrible nightmare. No it wasn't a nightmare. It was real. It had happened. That's why he was here. And just like the prophesies had foretold. But they never did understand them. How long had he been lying here? He pulled the sheet from his face. Someone had laid him here.
He felt his body fill with power as he swung his feet to the floor. So this is what it feels like! He could feel the unfathomable power in his body. He felt the changes in his body, unimaginable changes, as if he had never really been alive before. This was what it really meant to live. And this time no one could ever kill him... again.
The man stood with strength carefully folding the linens, with such a powerful body why expect someone else to do even such a menial task? He carefully and neatly laid the linens in a corner of the bed then faced the doorway. His friends appeared opening the door. They had always looked up to him, but before it was for who he would become, now, their respect shone brightly for who he was. He left the stuffy room and stepped into the dawning spring sunlight. He nodded to his friends and thanked them. They bowed to him.
The landscape about him was well cared for. He paused as he noticed a small crocus just beginning to bloom. It was really beautiful. He slowly wandered throughout the garden and around the bend taking in the beauties of the Earth. He had always had an affinity for the wonders of nature, now he knew why, exactly why.
There was some commotion around the bend by the room he had just left, but he didn't feel the need to investigate it. He had spent his life dealing with problems, other peoples problems, but that was over now. He had finally dealt with it once and for all. He bent down and gently stroked a tulip bloom. Then he heard it. The weeping of a woman.
He gracefully walked toward the sound of the weeping. He knew that voice. Around the bend he saw her. His dear beloved friend. Why was he drawn to her? That was simple. He loved her. She had believed in him. And that, albeit small, belief she had had made it that much easier to do what he had done. He wanted desperately to take her in his arms and embrace her, but that would have to wait. But he did need to speak to her. Would she recognize him? He was different now.
He gently approached her. Elsewhere in the world people were in pain. People were arguing and fighting. Others lay near death in the most deplorable of circumstances. He could attend to them, later. Right now he did not feel the need to move quickly. Here in the garden there was a deep abiding peace, almost as if it emanated directly from the man. Maybe that is what caused the woman to look up.
She didn't recognize him. Those deep eyes were filled with sadness. Maybe it was the cloudiness of tears that made her not recognize him, or perhaps that she was certain he was dead. It may have been the overwhelming difference in his own body. When he had been laid in the room he was frail and dehydrated, the lowest of all. How could she recognize him. Now he was a God.
She asked if he had taken a body from the room. She wanted to finish preparing it for a proper burial. The man almost laughed to himself. No one had really understood his words just days before.
The man spoke. “Mary”
Happy Easter. Let's remember what it is all about.
By Joshua Chapman
The man's eyes fluttered open. What a horrible nightmare. No it wasn't a nightmare. It was real. It had happened. That's why he was here. And just like the prophesies had foretold. But they never did understand them. How long had he been lying here? He pulled the sheet from his face. Someone had laid him here.
He felt his body fill with power as he swung his feet to the floor. So this is what it feels like! He could feel the unfathomable power in his body. He felt the changes in his body, unimaginable changes, as if he had never really been alive before. This was what it really meant to live. And this time no one could ever kill him... again.
The man stood with strength carefully folding the linens, with such a powerful body why expect someone else to do even such a menial task? He carefully and neatly laid the linens in a corner of the bed then faced the doorway. His friends appeared opening the door. They had always looked up to him, but before it was for who he would become, now, their respect shone brightly for who he was. He left the stuffy room and stepped into the dawning spring sunlight. He nodded to his friends and thanked them. They bowed to him.
The landscape about him was well cared for. He paused as he noticed a small crocus just beginning to bloom. It was really beautiful. He slowly wandered throughout the garden and around the bend taking in the beauties of the Earth. He had always had an affinity for the wonders of nature, now he knew why, exactly why.
There was some commotion around the bend by the room he had just left, but he didn't feel the need to investigate it. He had spent his life dealing with problems, other peoples problems, but that was over now. He had finally dealt with it once and for all. He bent down and gently stroked a tulip bloom. Then he heard it. The weeping of a woman.
He gracefully walked toward the sound of the weeping. He knew that voice. Around the bend he saw her. His dear beloved friend. Why was he drawn to her? That was simple. He loved her. She had believed in him. And that, albeit small, belief she had had made it that much easier to do what he had done. He wanted desperately to take her in his arms and embrace her, but that would have to wait. But he did need to speak to her. Would she recognize him? He was different now.
He gently approached her. Elsewhere in the world people were in pain. People were arguing and fighting. Others lay near death in the most deplorable of circumstances. He could attend to them, later. Right now he did not feel the need to move quickly. Here in the garden there was a deep abiding peace, almost as if it emanated directly from the man. Maybe that is what caused the woman to look up.
She didn't recognize him. Those deep eyes were filled with sadness. Maybe it was the cloudiness of tears that made her not recognize him, or perhaps that she was certain he was dead. It may have been the overwhelming difference in his own body. When he had been laid in the room he was frail and dehydrated, the lowest of all. How could she recognize him. Now he was a God.
She asked if he had taken a body from the room. She wanted to finish preparing it for a proper burial. The man almost laughed to himself. No one had really understood his words just days before.
The man spoke. “Mary”
Happy Easter. Let's remember what it is all about.
