tarkis's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- the evangelist I went to the Revival lst night... Pentecostal, no less. Don't ask me why... I did it because it was the path of least resistance. I wanted to see my niece, offer her a business proposition.. she needs it.. expecting her first child in Feb...wanting to be a stay at home Mom.. or at least work in house... and I guess curiosity.. plain old curiosity. I had gone to revivals early... in my teens... I had listened to persuasive evangelistic "preachers" I guess I wanted to see if what I thought I believed.. I believed. I felt like a spectator.. watching the music... the rhythm capture these people... from my distance I noted the similarity of sounds from Africa... very tribal.. once the music stopped and you heard the voices.. the speaking of tongues.. the clicking and murmuring.. definitely tribal... old sounding.. energy drawing. The air was electrified and I smiled as I watched. The electricity having no effect on me, yet I was able to understand it... seeing it flowing... gaining momentum.. losing.. gaining.. like a dance. and I listened to the words... words of hate... bias... fear... mixed with praise for their God. I remembered my time at the temple a few years back.. their "service" a time of puer praise to the gods.. electricity flowed then.. except it was gentle.. and beautiful... I and my son got caught up in its gentleness.. in their rhythmn... not frightening... my son "dancing" with them.. I letting the music .. the chanting taking me to wondrous holy heights.. Last night.. in some respects.. the same.. yet vastly different. For some reason the evangelist focused on me. It had no effect and then as the altar call came and these poor souls wirthing with emotion made their way to the altar... I .. a mere spectator.. watched. He noticed me again and this time... after laying on of hands for someone so distraught because of his "sins" and his inability to ever be good enough.. He came to me. I smiled... we talked... I told him I had no need to come to the altar.. My love for my gods was pure and cmplete.. and I a child of the gods... was not worried about my soul. he talked about the one path... I told him there were many.. each having their own lessons to learn along that path. I think we were talking about different paths. He talked about the only refernce book we have.. The Bible.. I told him there were many excellant books on the way to live. He talked about salvation.. I told him I thought it was an archaic set of rules necessary at the time to give people standards of living. He asked if he could pray over me. I told him no... it was not necessary. I did not tell him I did not want his negative.. very powerful energy near my soul. Instead, I said... I go to sleep with peace.. I wake with peace.. I exist in the cradle of the gods... and my path.. may not be his... but it was mine. He started to talk about satan and sin.. but I stopped him... I do not believe in either. He paused as if stricken. Thanked me for coming.. and left. and then a girl brought in a kitten.. it was going to be killed.. its litter mates already had... and guess where that little one is now. Sheba is hiding under my son's bed. 7:34 a.m. - 2005-11-12 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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