- Dec 22, 2017
- 2,355
- 2,915
- Country
- United States
- Faith
- Catholic
- Marital Status
- Single
- Politics
- US-Constitution
A name like that inspires intrigue, no? This is my personal adaptation of a very short story someone shared on Facebook. What I present is a dramatized version of what was said to be a real event. Whether or not it was, I don't know what to think, but I must remember the importance of thinking this way.
----
Rodney Steven Jamesen heard the splattering of rain on his windshield. He drove on, watching the rain slide up the windshield, dim streams of bent light illuminated by the darkened twilight of a stormy evening. Rain poured down on his car, a car that was taking a familiar journey down a lonely highway.
As was his custom, soft rock played on the radio. Gentle vibrations of sound ebbed through the simple construction of his car, mellow lyrics singing about a different long & lonesome highway, east of Omaha. The singer, a familiar name to any of the classic rock crowd, lamented about his life. Show up on stage, everyone loves you. Leave, no one knows you. Come to another stage, they still don't know you, but they all love you. Leave, and it's the same, but without the applause. Here I am...there I go...turn the page.
What must that do to a person? Such a long drive gave Rodney the time to ponder such things. Celebrity status is something everyone strives for, but it is a state that so many celebrities lament over.
Celebrities who regret their status suddenly ceased to be the topic in Rodney's wandering mind. His thought process was interrupted by an unexpected sight, a silhouette of a figure standing at the side of the road. A figure, dark in the rain-stained evening, stood motionless beside the highway. Rain poured over this man, though he didn't seem to notice. Before he knew it, Rodney was stopped at the side of the road to let the man in.
The stranger was an elderly man, ambiguous features in the dampened, darkened atmosphere. A scent of incense accompanied him, and he looked to have come from a long journey. But he was a man with a purpose, seen by the confident way he carried himself, and his purpose was soon announced with a deep, scratchy voice.
"Son, do you know what happened last night in Heaven?"
Rodney was stunned. Picking up a hitchhiker, well...Rodney knew this road well, and there was no reason a man along here would stand by the road. It was odd, yet serene, even with such a stark introduction. Who was this man?
Rodney could only muster a blank expression, which gave the old man time to get in the car, continuing what he was saying.
"Last night in Heaven God was very angry against man.". His eyes were intense. "God's wrath was flaring, his patience was spent, and he was tired of the way people refused to take care of each other, no matter what their position. Thunder roared, lightning flashed, and God Almighty turned to the angels with the trumpets to call destruction upon all the Earth! The angels gathered in formation, prepared their trumpets, held them up in position to blow the death sentence of life as we know it, and--"
Time seemed to stop as the story picked up excitement. Rodney hadn't even noticed that his car was still parked, the man telling a story with such conviction, such a sense of purpose that Rodney could not deny the incredible feeling that this story, this fantastic story, was somehow true.
"--and that's when a man, an ancient but ever-new man, fell down before the Father, fell down between Him an the angels, begging mercy on all of humanity."
Rodney sighed in relief without realizing it. So did the man.
"When the man was pleading, his blood--real, fresh blood--came pouring out of wounds that were ancient, but well remembered. This man who had seen everything told God to have mercy so that His death was not in vain. He had done too much for humanity to let it all end so soon! God looked upon these wounds with love, absolute love for his Son. He looked across all the saints, many of whom bore similar wounds. He looked to his angels, who had guided mankind for all of time. Yet He also weighed this with the wickedness of mankind, the longstanding rejection of their Creator and each other, the wickedness that led everything to this point. Silence, I tell you—silence filled Heaven, as all the angels, all the saints, everyone awaited the Divine Judgement. Mercy & justice, the two greatest traits of God, were conflicting for the first priority.
“And—God issued His decree. He said, speaking to the angels, but speaking for all of humanity—‘I’LL GIVE YOU A LAST OPPORTUNITY.’ The Heavens erupted in cheers, rejoicing from the angels and the saints, for mercy had been chosen. But the cheers were short-lived, for there was such a sense of urgency. The angles exchanged their trumpet of destruction for words of warning, taking up scrolls that bore the Divine Decree. Every last angel made haste to rush to mankind. Humanity was given a second chance, and they had to know what happened to be able to keep their life. Everything they know is coming to an end, but the infinitely greater future will be here soon.”
Rodney finally had the sense to start the car moving again as rain continued to fall from the darkening sky. Wiper blades ran side to side, accomplishing the task they were made to carry out. The man stared straight ahead, somehow even more overwhelmed with the magnitude of his story than his listener.
After a long silence, Rodney knew he had to ask the vital question. “And…how do you know all this?”
After so much seriousness, Rodney almost saw a smile pass by the man’s lips. Not an ordinary smile pleasure, but the faint smile that accompanied a vital duty being accomplished. “Isn’t it obvious?" he asked. "I’m one of the angels!”
One last chance. One last opportunity. Rodney was trying the process the weight of the Divine Decree, the closeness him and all of mankind came to having to answer for their actions without being warned that the time had come. Terrifying.
“Spread this message,” the old man continued suddenly, quoting more of God’s merciful decree with a grave seriousness. “Spread it far and wide, on whatever medium, through whatever mouthpiece you find. I give all you angels a scroll with the message, and you need to spread it, for the end is truly coming soon.”
And the man held out an ancient scroll, with a lingering scent of incense, with writing in impossibly clear letters: “The End is Near, and Jesus Christ is Coming Soon!”
Suddenly loud with passion, "Decide now where you stand," the man warned, intensity filling his eyes. "Decide."
Without another word, without another moment to breath, the man was gone. As mysteriously as he had appeared, there was suddenly just an empty passenger seat, as if no passenger had been there at all.
Rodney looked around. The rain had stopped, and no puddles remained. The evening twilight filled the cloudless sky with a beautiful gradiant of reds and purples, as a gentle breeze rustled the leaves of nearby maple trees. Everything seemed new, and strangely peaceful.
A little further down the road, he saw a distant water tower, the silhouettes of a few houses, and an even more distant airplane. This was the town where Rodney was due to arrive. The song on the radio began fading into silence, the day was coming to a close, and Rodney's trip was nearing its end. Everything was either still or steady, moving gracefully or staying peacefully. Beautiful.
Soon enough, Rodney would no longer think about the long and lonesome highway, or the strange hitchhiker that might have accompanied him along the way. He would be greeting a loving family, made comfortable in an uncomfortable house, given food & rest to last a lifetime. Yet he wondered if this would be the refresher he felt he needed. Usually this trip is the perfect thing to help him relax.
Usually this trip doesn't involved angelic hitchhikers.
Angels or no angels, apocalypse or peace time, there was no way to know for sure. But there had to be some semblance of truth in what the hitchhiker said. Or, maybe not. But either way, what harm can be done by anticipating an afterlife that makes this life worthwhile? What harm can be done by truly believe in that he had very little time to make a very important impact on the family?
Rodney turned left, then right. A little farther down the road, another turn by the post office, and a familiar mailbox could be seen at the base of the hill on Sheridan Street. He turned into the short driveway that he knew so well, in front of a red brick house that provided all the mixed blessings that a childhood home could offer. Enjoy it while it lasts, Rodney could hear the little voice in his head advise. God gave it to you for a reason.
Family, hitchhikers, highways, weather...what did it all matter in light of impending eternity? On the other hand, it all matters more than ever, because his interaction and understanding of all these things will surely influence what eternity will look like.
Rodney sat in his car for a long time before heading to the front door. So much to ponder, so little ability to make sense of it all.
One last opportunity. If it was true, Rodney had no time to waste before making amends with his family. If it was false, who cares? Too much to lose to risk believing that the angel was fake, a mere hallucination from a long ride home. There was something more important than deducing the reality of this vision, or visitor, that he had no capacity to disprove.
One last opportunity.
And I shall seize it.
----
Rodney Steven Jamesen heard the splattering of rain on his windshield. He drove on, watching the rain slide up the windshield, dim streams of bent light illuminated by the darkened twilight of a stormy evening. Rain poured down on his car, a car that was taking a familiar journey down a lonely highway.
As was his custom, soft rock played on the radio. Gentle vibrations of sound ebbed through the simple construction of his car, mellow lyrics singing about a different long & lonesome highway, east of Omaha. The singer, a familiar name to any of the classic rock crowd, lamented about his life. Show up on stage, everyone loves you. Leave, no one knows you. Come to another stage, they still don't know you, but they all love you. Leave, and it's the same, but without the applause. Here I am...there I go...turn the page.
What must that do to a person? Such a long drive gave Rodney the time to ponder such things. Celebrity status is something everyone strives for, but it is a state that so many celebrities lament over.
Celebrities who regret their status suddenly ceased to be the topic in Rodney's wandering mind. His thought process was interrupted by an unexpected sight, a silhouette of a figure standing at the side of the road. A figure, dark in the rain-stained evening, stood motionless beside the highway. Rain poured over this man, though he didn't seem to notice. Before he knew it, Rodney was stopped at the side of the road to let the man in.
The stranger was an elderly man, ambiguous features in the dampened, darkened atmosphere. A scent of incense accompanied him, and he looked to have come from a long journey. But he was a man with a purpose, seen by the confident way he carried himself, and his purpose was soon announced with a deep, scratchy voice.
"Son, do you know what happened last night in Heaven?"
Rodney was stunned. Picking up a hitchhiker, well...Rodney knew this road well, and there was no reason a man along here would stand by the road. It was odd, yet serene, even with such a stark introduction. Who was this man?
Rodney could only muster a blank expression, which gave the old man time to get in the car, continuing what he was saying.
"Last night in Heaven God was very angry against man.". His eyes were intense. "God's wrath was flaring, his patience was spent, and he was tired of the way people refused to take care of each other, no matter what their position. Thunder roared, lightning flashed, and God Almighty turned to the angels with the trumpets to call destruction upon all the Earth! The angels gathered in formation, prepared their trumpets, held them up in position to blow the death sentence of life as we know it, and--"
Time seemed to stop as the story picked up excitement. Rodney hadn't even noticed that his car was still parked, the man telling a story with such conviction, such a sense of purpose that Rodney could not deny the incredible feeling that this story, this fantastic story, was somehow true.
"--and that's when a man, an ancient but ever-new man, fell down before the Father, fell down between Him an the angels, begging mercy on all of humanity."
Rodney sighed in relief without realizing it. So did the man.
"When the man was pleading, his blood--real, fresh blood--came pouring out of wounds that were ancient, but well remembered. This man who had seen everything told God to have mercy so that His death was not in vain. He had done too much for humanity to let it all end so soon! God looked upon these wounds with love, absolute love for his Son. He looked across all the saints, many of whom bore similar wounds. He looked to his angels, who had guided mankind for all of time. Yet He also weighed this with the wickedness of mankind, the longstanding rejection of their Creator and each other, the wickedness that led everything to this point. Silence, I tell you—silence filled Heaven, as all the angels, all the saints, everyone awaited the Divine Judgement. Mercy & justice, the two greatest traits of God, were conflicting for the first priority.
“And—God issued His decree. He said, speaking to the angels, but speaking for all of humanity—‘I’LL GIVE YOU A LAST OPPORTUNITY.’ The Heavens erupted in cheers, rejoicing from the angels and the saints, for mercy had been chosen. But the cheers were short-lived, for there was such a sense of urgency. The angles exchanged their trumpet of destruction for words of warning, taking up scrolls that bore the Divine Decree. Every last angel made haste to rush to mankind. Humanity was given a second chance, and they had to know what happened to be able to keep their life. Everything they know is coming to an end, but the infinitely greater future will be here soon.”
Rodney finally had the sense to start the car moving again as rain continued to fall from the darkening sky. Wiper blades ran side to side, accomplishing the task they were made to carry out. The man stared straight ahead, somehow even more overwhelmed with the magnitude of his story than his listener.
After a long silence, Rodney knew he had to ask the vital question. “And…how do you know all this?”
After so much seriousness, Rodney almost saw a smile pass by the man’s lips. Not an ordinary smile pleasure, but the faint smile that accompanied a vital duty being accomplished. “Isn’t it obvious?" he asked. "I’m one of the angels!”
One last chance. One last opportunity. Rodney was trying the process the weight of the Divine Decree, the closeness him and all of mankind came to having to answer for their actions without being warned that the time had come. Terrifying.
“Spread this message,” the old man continued suddenly, quoting more of God’s merciful decree with a grave seriousness. “Spread it far and wide, on whatever medium, through whatever mouthpiece you find. I give all you angels a scroll with the message, and you need to spread it, for the end is truly coming soon.”
And the man held out an ancient scroll, with a lingering scent of incense, with writing in impossibly clear letters: “The End is Near, and Jesus Christ is Coming Soon!”
Suddenly loud with passion, "Decide now where you stand," the man warned, intensity filling his eyes. "Decide."
Without another word, without another moment to breath, the man was gone. As mysteriously as he had appeared, there was suddenly just an empty passenger seat, as if no passenger had been there at all.
Rodney looked around. The rain had stopped, and no puddles remained. The evening twilight filled the cloudless sky with a beautiful gradiant of reds and purples, as a gentle breeze rustled the leaves of nearby maple trees. Everything seemed new, and strangely peaceful.
A little further down the road, he saw a distant water tower, the silhouettes of a few houses, and an even more distant airplane. This was the town where Rodney was due to arrive. The song on the radio began fading into silence, the day was coming to a close, and Rodney's trip was nearing its end. Everything was either still or steady, moving gracefully or staying peacefully. Beautiful.
Soon enough, Rodney would no longer think about the long and lonesome highway, or the strange hitchhiker that might have accompanied him along the way. He would be greeting a loving family, made comfortable in an uncomfortable house, given food & rest to last a lifetime. Yet he wondered if this would be the refresher he felt he needed. Usually this trip is the perfect thing to help him relax.
Usually this trip doesn't involved angelic hitchhikers.
Angels or no angels, apocalypse or peace time, there was no way to know for sure. But there had to be some semblance of truth in what the hitchhiker said. Or, maybe not. But either way, what harm can be done by anticipating an afterlife that makes this life worthwhile? What harm can be done by truly believe in that he had very little time to make a very important impact on the family?
Rodney turned left, then right. A little farther down the road, another turn by the post office, and a familiar mailbox could be seen at the base of the hill on Sheridan Street. He turned into the short driveway that he knew so well, in front of a red brick house that provided all the mixed blessings that a childhood home could offer. Enjoy it while it lasts, Rodney could hear the little voice in his head advise. God gave it to you for a reason.
Family, hitchhikers, highways, weather...what did it all matter in light of impending eternity? On the other hand, it all matters more than ever, because his interaction and understanding of all these things will surely influence what eternity will look like.
Rodney sat in his car for a long time before heading to the front door. So much to ponder, so little ability to make sense of it all.
One last opportunity. If it was true, Rodney had no time to waste before making amends with his family. If it was false, who cares? Too much to lose to risk believing that the angel was fake, a mere hallucination from a long ride home. There was something more important than deducing the reality of this vision, or visitor, that he had no capacity to disprove.
One last opportunity.
And I shall seize it.
Last edited:
