Down There

This is a Part II to the following post: http://shutyamouthandcallmeugly.com/2015/07/10/nachos-and-cheese-cold-sweat-series/
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I walked in and I heard music. It was loud and intrusive. It thumped through your chest and it rattled your soul. I thought to myself, “How does anyone have a conversation in here?” As if reading my mind, he appeared and said, “Words complicate things.” The music always muted when he spoke. Everyone was always suspended in the air. There were no floors. It wasn’t frightening though. There was no place below. There was no place further to fall.
He was tall. He wasn’t a large man. You could tell he was strong, though. There was something about his posture and the tone of his voice. He was aware of his power. His reputation and the fear his presence induced fed his power. He was wearing a black A-Shirt and a pair of black sweat pants and some tan construction Timberland boots. He grabbed my arm and his touch burned my skin. I jumped back in shock and grabbed my wound. He said, “You’re not one of mine. What are you doing down here?” I said, “Well Mr. ..” I had no idea what to call him. Do I call him Satan, Lucifer, The Dark One?
He said, “Chill, titles mean nothing down here. They all know who is in charge and they rarely have anything to say. That’s why I play the music so loud. It drowns out the unnecessary. I always liked music. They loved my stuff up there. Most people should have said what they needed to say when it mattered. Down here it doesn’t matter. I’m not listening. If you’re down here, no one cares about what you say or what you think or what you feel. If you’re down here, you missed out on being with the One who cared about those things. If you’re down here, you may have been someone who didn’t care about those things when someone needed you to.”
I looked at him and explained I was “up there” and JC and I had a conversation that went left. I hoped it was just a misunderstanding because I didn’t want to stay in darkness. I had questions and I’d always thought JC would be so nice and angelic about his expanations.
He looked at me and said, “You think they explained anything to me when they sent me down here?” “I was like a shooting fallen star! It was like being shot out of a damn cannon. Sometimes you can challenge too much. You can ask too many questions. You can rebel too much. Goodness is inherent. Kindness can be forced but if you do not like it here then you need to force it. You need to think about others. You need to think about yourself too. There are people down here who neglected themselves physically, spiritually and emotionally.”
As he spoke, I started to realize JC sent me down there because He knew my questions would be answered and that was the point. I wasn’t supposed to have so many inquiries. I was supposed to have FAITH. I was supposed to trust that He knew what he was doing. I was supposed to fufill my purpose.

My father always called me a rebel without a cause.

Would that existential crisis leave me in the darkness with the dark one with answers to questions that didn’t require answers?

I became antsy. I was hoping this was a little exercise the angels were putting me through. Maybe a test of character. I was hoping the darkness wouldn’t be my new permanent residence. It wasn’t hot. He wasn’t red. There were no flames but it was uncomfortable and it was loud. Suspended over nothing with nothing to look forward to.

I asked if any of my friends were there.

Some old associates appeared. I couldn’t remember all of their names but I remembered their faces. I wondered what they could have possibly done to merit that fate. I wondered what my fate would now be.

(To be continued )

-SMN