Excerpt



Want to stretch before we go further? Sheriff Hereford asked of Bobby and me, and with a glance included his wife also; but to the prisoner he said, Not you, Mosely. You stay with me. The old man nodded and drank his lemonade. Count me out, Im contented here, said Mrs Hereford. But Bobby and I hiked over to the next hill. Below we saw the source of the fragrance. An apple orchard spread through the valley and partway up the side of the opposite hill.

Wow, said Bob, Mom should see this. And he back-tracked over the top while I stayed on. To my left where the hill descended was a bit of marshy ground, in dark contrast to the surrounding hills. Within it, obscure trees towered at odd angles. It was into these I thought the eagle must have landed, so I made my way down the embankment until I stood along a bog with marsh grasses standing from it. I puzzled as to how I might get deeper into the marsh without my shoes getting muddied or mired. The bottom of the hill curved and I followed the swampy rim until the ground again appeared solid, and stepped into tall, tangled growth. I looked high and about for an eagles nest, and seeing none, moved in a little further. Many of the trees were dead, and some had fallen slant-wise from past winds and lightnings. Through it all, the sun found its way in scattered flecks.

And suddenly He was therein this wild, ancient place of His own creation. He was clothed as He usually is pictured, a white garment to his ankles, his feet sandaled. There was no unearthly radiance to his clothing, such as His apostles saw at the transfiguration. Here and there He was hit by dapples of sunlight; in this He was no different than myself or the trunks or the stumps. Even his face was somewhat shadowed. He could have been an actor standing before mean actor of good height with a wide spread of shouldersexcept for one thing. His heart stood away from his breast by the width of three fingers. It was encircled by thorns that pierced it. For all that, its ventricles swelled and contracted with great force, seeming with each beat to throb and leap forward; all in a steady rhythm. If I noted it so perfectly, there is a reason: it was alight with its own fire. A soft transparent flame rippled constantly up and down it, wavering this way and that. It was that light and movement which held my eye.

I fell before it in fearful awe, and worshiped. Then He stepped forward into a ray of sunlight which brought out his face. It was a long face, unsmiling, stern, beyond anger but not beyond sorrow. After all, did He not take all sin upon Himself? Had He not seen all sin since its beginning and groaned over every one? If any mere man, without his divinity, had to peer upon even a mere fraction of all the horrors and unnaturalness committed since the expulsion of angels and fall of man, he would go mad in a minute.

Stanley Czbutko, my son: do you love me? He asked.

Yes, Lord, I replied, you know I love you. And I knew I was echoing something heard in past millennia, but the immediacy of it cut deeply.

Do you love me enough to join your sufferings to mine?

If you want, sir, I replied. But I was terrified that I gave such an answer.

He indicated his heart, bright in its own fierce fire, burning in the pin-pricked shade of that wild place. You see these thorns in my heart? They bring me so much suffering. They are the sins of those for whom I died, for whom I suffered, but who, in return, spurn and despise me. There are, however, those who from age to age unite themselves to metheir suffering with my suffering; and in so doing bring me balm and comfort, and from their love pay for the sins of others, allowing them to be saved. I have chosen you for this work.

But why would you choose me, sirLord? Im only a little boy?

Are you willing?

Yes, sirChrist Jesus. And I scrunched my eyes tightly together, and made myself a ball at His feet.

That is why I have chosen you: for your willingness, not for your goodness. Indeed, you are neither steadfast nor strong. But I shall use these very weaknesses toward my own ends, for my own glory. Many times, until I come again, you shall fall. However, I shall always wait to reclaim you, for I yearn for your love. Little though you are, and always shall be, in my sight, yet know this: your every return to me, and the honor you give, is incomparably more than the obedience of all the angelic spirits; for they know not of the frailties of human nature, nor of the struggles you go through to keep from sin.

Continue to eat and drink of me, and be cleansed by confession until I come again. And count on my heart to not only be open to you, but to desire you with all desire. Having said that, I also wish to stress again that it is because of your insignificance I chose you, not for any merit on your part. Now go about your life, preparing it to receive again my coming that you may draw some of these thorns from my most Sacred Heart.

With that, still framing the flames and the beating heart with the fingers and thumb of one hand, He became transparent and vanished.

It took several seconds before the world began to pulse again, before the cawing of a crow reached my ears, and the breathing of the spring earth filled my nostrils. I was not wholly into it until I heard Bob calling.

Stanley! Hey, Stanley! Where are you?

I retraced my steps around the marshy dip and came out again at the base of the hill until I saw Bob and his mother at the top of it. They looked less real than they had beforeor more real. But not quite right.