Sunday, April 19, 2015

Memoirs from the War in Heaven by John H. Doe

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The Beginning Is Near
In the last month of the Year of the Dragon...
Important things happen from time to time, mostly without warning. Things that give purpose to a life, even the reason why you were born at all. I am a child of God, to whom was revealed strange and wondrous things, things I must relate to show something of why life is as life is, why the world is as the world may be. This is my story, perhaps with the mundane washed away, to distill the range of experience of how I was given my own true purpose why--why my life walked the path it did. From a running start, a typical Friday night turned suddenly epic.

I have seen awesome things unfold before my eyes, and these were of the War in Heaven (the real one, not a metaphor for something other). I was a soldier in God's army, and I fought beside angels in the casting of Satan and his own from Heaven. I'm sure you've heard the tale. What if it were real, what if it really happened? And the dispatching of Lucifer to Hell? What if the stakes were higher, what if the prize was all of creation? Indeed, this is the story I tell: I am the white rabbit. Do you want to see just how far the rabbit hole goes?

And what is beyond sometimes touches down, sometimes through your very fingertips. See for yourself.


I wrote on the walls, I wrote in the books I had. (Mostly those books got lost somewhere along the way.) I remember the image of Mondrian’s “Gray Tree,” and the rare Escher that I called the Doomsday Clock (which never rang). I have since scanned that image from the book where I had found it and it hangs on my wall. I remember Rosanna Arquette, and watching “The Big Blue” to see her move like poetry. And then there was this call: “Michael. Michael.” Out of the expanse inside my mind. As if I were being called by the voice of God, back when I misinterpreted the passage in Revelation about the War in Heaven—for some reason, I was thinking Michael lost. I’m sure I was meant to read it the wrong way, of course. It was as if it were my fate to be doomed, a goner, to miss out on all the Good Stuff the saved would get in Heaven. I remember other people floating around in my head at the time who called themselves Michael to take my place, brave souls. Myself, I hadn’t yet found my courage. …and then I remember the notice slipped under my door: reality was going to evict me. Or at least, my landlord was. Any day now.

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