I had slept late into the afternoon, and awoke feeling mellow and rested. There was no reason to go anywhere for there was a big lightning storm headed our way. Like many people I love to watch the light show that storms bring. So I grabbed a bite to eat, put on some soft blues, turned out the lights, and perched myself on the big yellow dental chair located in my workstation. The “Banana” chair is on a 8 foot by 8 foot pedestal one foot high adjacent to the tattoo parlor, separated by a dividing wall in which there is a large window opening. This opening faces the front of my shop. There I have a great view of the storm as well as my parking lot, and the street. In the past people had come to the window and I could see them peeking in, but I don’t think they could see me. I couldn’t see in when I went outside and looked, which I did from time to time.
Time passes quickly when we are in awe. Before I knew it the clock said it was 1:30AM and no sign of the storm letting up. The lightning made shadows that danced all over the inside of my building and over the concrete slab that was in front of my glass door. I saw a shadow that looked like a person flash on the parking lot, and as I looked harder I saw him. He was headed towards the front door.
“Oh man, this is not what I want right now. Don’t come here, don’t come here. Please, please go away”. I thought to myself. But in spite of my wishes, he walked up to the glass and started knocking. I could see his hands cup his face as he tried to look in. He knocked harder as if he could see me, or somehow knew I was there. I sat still determined not to move. Hoping that he would leave and allow me to get back to watching God’s show. But that wasn’t going to happen.
He put his hands back around his face, pressed up to the glass and I knew this time he and I had made eye contact. It seemed like eternity, as we stared at each other. He motioned for me to open the door. I sat rabbit still. He shrugged his shoulders and flashed a peculiar smile. What happened next has taken me several years to come to terms with. As a matter of fact, I am not sure I have completely come to terms with it.
He walked in, not through an unlocked door. The door was locked. Rather through the glass window right into the parlor room. He didn’t break the glass, or the aluminum he just walked through it. Like it wasn’t even there. He proceeded until he got to the partition that separated my work space from the parlor. All the time holding my eyes. My jaw felt like it was in my lap, my eyebrows had to be scraping the ceiling tiles. I could not believe what was happening. My thoughts as well as my heart were racing. Fight or flight? My trusty 9MM pistol was near, I wanted to reach for it but couldn’t. So I sat, trembling. But I still couldn’t move. he moved around the partition into my work area.
He didn’t look like a local. He was middle eastern in appearance. Dark skin, dark eyes. Curly hair and beard. Stocky and solid. Maybe 5 and a half feet tall. His clothes were of a different time. Biblical is how I would describe them. He smelled like incense. It was pleasant, strangely calming.
He turned around as if to check out the surroundings. Then looked back at me as if he was disgusted. Like I had disappointed him in some way.
Not that he was threatening necessarily. I mean any more than anyone else that walks in uninvited would be. There was no real aggression that I could discern in his body language, or his expression for that matter. But there was a real sense of concerning discontent in his gaze towards me.
“ I have come to give you a warning” he said. I couldn’t respond, so I just listened.
“You have gone against your calling. You have locked me out and refused to let me in more times than just tonight. I have sent you messengers and angels, I have given you sign after sign, and you have not listened. I have promised you that if you would come to your calling, I would provide for you well. I also promised that if you shunned your calling you would suffer, and that you would be miserable. You have made decisions that I wish you had not made, and for those decisions you are cursed with those that want you dead, or at the very least imprisoned. You have made yourself sick and weak in your body, and your spirit, you have become feeble minded. You have made many powerful enemies. Not the least of which is yourself.
You should leave this area as soon as you can. No one will succeed in killing you, but you. However if you stay here you will have to apply all of your instincts and knowledge to keep from losing your freedom. You’re not wanted here. Walk away and don’t turn back, is my advice. If you stay, as I know you will, because you haven’t listen up to now, you will be brought to your knees, and you will lose everything you lustfully cherish. This battle will take it’s toll on you. I want you to come to me and use the gifts you have been given for their rightful purpose. You will be faced with another choice soon.”
He left the same way he came in. Through the glass and into the storm.
I sat in the dark slowly slowly collecting myself, still sweaty and still shaking. The blues played on and it was now raining, softly, quietly. The oder of incense lingering. I watched the sun come up.
A few weeks later I was faced with another opportunity to answer my calling.
I ran from it too.
Eventually I did lose everything. I wound up homeless, very sick, and was investigated by every law enforcement agency known to man. Had several people try to sue me. No one succeeded and I still have my freedom. But it was a long hard scary fight.
*(note - I have come to realize that our reality is not what we know or even what we believe. Rather what we feel. On that stormy night I felt open, exposed, vulnerable and out of control, even though I had done everything I thought I could do to control my environment.
Was this an hallucination, an aberration, or was it simply a dream? I don’t know.
I don’t recall having to wake up after that experience, I just simply watched the sun rise. Then I got on with my day. I know what I felt. And what I felt was intense, to say the least. I have had several of these experiences in my life, and one occasion my mother was present. She never understood it either.
A year or so later I was looking at a Popular Mechanics magazine, where some forensic Pathologist had put together a clay bust, of what they believed Jesus may have looked like based on local DNA and some other findings. That person that walked into my shop that night looked like the pictures in that article.
As I started on the graphics for this story, the smell of that incense began to fill my nose very strongly, and I could taste it too.