The Song Of The Man of Heaven

I see a man of shinning gold, gloriously dressed in simple linen, yet bowed low, touching his face to the floor, his kneeling form chained by a thousand iron chains. He is in a dark & dank dungeon. Acrid odors and pungent waste assault this sense of smell. Soreness and inflamed joints fill his body; despair and depression trap his mind behind prison doors. Confusion and resentment bind all his thoughts. Alone and yet angry he remains.

Suddenly the Sword of the Lord appears, looking like a hundred knife blades slicing through the air and flashing reflected light. Though his head is bowed, yet he perceives this. As the blade, or is it blades, pass by him there is pain, real pain, and yet as the moments pass he finds that for the first time the chains binding his head, neck and back are loosed. He lifts his head and back with a groan of relief at his new movement. Looking up he discovers star and moonlight where he anticipated a ceiling. The beauty of heaven!

Time passes and the man moves in his new freedom, yet he still is forced to kneel in the bath of sewage and waste that clings to the dungeon floor. Yet he begins to praise heaven for it’s beauty and he refuses to be absorbed by the corruption around him; that enslaves him. The man’s beauty and strength are seen more clearly by heavens light. With the raising of his own eyes he has seen himself more rightly and the despair and resentment begin to dissolve like a mist. In time, he sings, trying to echo heaven’s call. Yearning grows in him to be closer, He wants to be free of the dead weights of anger, bitterness and self-pity. He rejects them for Heaven.

Again the Sword of the Lord appears flying towards him, again appearing as a hundred knife points approaching him. He is afraid of the pain and yet he knows the freedom it brings. He senses that he can refuse; that he can choose to remain in the isolated, bile-like surroundings or submit to the Sword of the Lord. Again there is pain — he cries aloud, surprised at the sound of his own voice that revealed the silence that cloaked him. Yet, once again, as he waits for the pain to pass, as he continues to hope for Heaven, he finds that chains binding his waist & legs removed. He is free to stand, and yet that is new and uncertain! The sewage is dark and putrid, but it is also familiar & warm. A pulse of light from Heaven momentarily beckons him and he

yearns, once again, for glory. Unsteadily, shaking and even falling several times, he finally rises on untrustworthy legs. Yet he rises! It is different than the slime. There is more to see and therefore more to be responsible for, yet it is better than below. Though his hands are still chained to the floor he honors Heaven with his face upturned and body standing. He sings and cries and calls to heaven in response to glory. He jumps and almost dances as much as possible, using his freed legs. Oh, he wants to lift hands to Heaven, but he will use what he has free, for now. The pain and lack of use in his legs are overcome by the exercise & stretching. He even feels more like a man now, his golden skin and beaming eyes reflect energy and joy. He again experiences the confusion and despair recede as he purposefully rejects them and the multitude of things they tell him. Lies! Vile lies! In the darkness around him, his new height reveals many others kneeling in the muck and mire at various distances, thought there are a few who also are standing. He calls to them; only the ones standing can hear and reply in the Song of Heaven. The kneeling forms seem unable to perceive him. Yet the standing ones encourage one another, singing of Heaven’s joy and hope. They also encourage the kneeling ones, though they themselves do not perceive it. The Bride of Heaven, all of them, calling one to another and then in unison cast their hearts upward to the Lord of Heaven. Looking together they yearn and grow.

Again time passes for the man and again the Sword of the Lord appears. He now knows the Lord’s discipline and tests, painful though they be. Yet, he also knows the ties to the darkness, his fellowship with corruption, must be cut. Again and again he yields and surrenders to the Sword. Stinging pain occurs and recedes. The sound of the floor receiving heavy chains echoes in the dungeon. Lifting hands he blesses the Lord of Heaven and singing, he walks freely to go and sing to others who have not heard as much of the Song as he. "Soon," he says, "and we will all be free to soar into the Heavens, out of this dungeon!"

Questions? Comments? Email me at ChrisSarris@hotmail.com