The
Warrior
He did not answer, but looked to Methuselah
and asked, “Shall we?”
Methuselah responded, “Peter, sit down
we need to show you something.”
I replied, “Not sure I want to go there again.”
“Work with us Pete, we’re trying to
help.”
I had already witnessed enough to
guarantee a life time of insomnia, but figured I may as well go all in. I must
admit, it was frightening and I was feeling it in my stomach, but swallowed
hard and sat back down. Methuselah leaned over my left shoulder and whispered,
“Just watch.” And as on cue, the bartender took a step back and said, “My name
is Michael.” Then began to morph into
another creature.
It started in his eyes with his pupils taking
on an appearance of fire. Then suddenly a great light pierced the ceiling and
enveloped the man with a brightness unlike anything I had ever seen. So bright
I was forced to turn my head and raise a forearm to shield my own vision.
I felt the warmth from his presence
as he lit the entire room with a heavenly radiance. Then I felt Methuselah’s
hand fall on my right shoulder and remembered how his touch enabled me to see
into the spiritual realm earlier. So, I dropped my forearm and looked upon the immortal’s
presence.
He stood before me like something
out of a graphic novel, having a bright, white like appearance. His eyes glowed
and his body appeared chiseled. On his side hung a large sword that nearly
reached the floor. It looked like a claymore, but like his eyes, held a fiery
appearance. He represented power and authority.
It was a terrifying sight to behold. I sit before
him speechless and recalled that in the Scriptures most humans were afraid when
encountering the angelic and were often told, “Fear not!" Now I understand why.
Methuselah asked, “Peter, are you
okay?”
I trembled and shuddered, “I… I… I
think so.”
“Peter, he’s a warrior.”
“Is this Michael, the Arch Angel
I’ve read about in the Old Testament?”
“Yes, and we've both come to help you.”
“Help me with what,” I responded?
“Deliverance.”
I could not take my eyes off the
warrior, but responded, “Deliverance from what? I don’t understand.”
“That’s what I’ve come to show you.”
His hand was still resting on my
shoulder and I felt a gentle squeeze as he said, “Look into the mirror.”
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