Recovering Lost Powers (An Allegory) Pt. 1

The hoses were broken loose, and the central core of power whirred loudly, yet to little effect.  Surely the device was designed for great output but now vines grew up and around every crevice and port.  Small scurrying rodents had made themselves nests where ever they could find them places.  Heaven only could tell what small cords, and nodes they had chewed their way through.

Yes decay had set in on the old piece of equipment on top of the initially fatal damage which had taken the vessel offline.

And there was I, adrift in space upon this heap.  As badly the worse for wear as the ship itself, I had remained here, by myself in a merely semi-conscious state for some 7 dreadful years.  The blood of my wounds had crusted over my eyelids, sealing them shut and dry.  A sharp blade had pierced through my heart near the my back from beneath, but I had been facing the assailant head on when the wound occurred.  He had been so near to me.  The blade had come through the front of me – this, I am sure is what had left me so near dead.

The Power was present all along – even as I drifted weightless in space – to give substance to my wounded soul.  Slowly the scabs covering my eyes were cracking away, I could now see the blurry form of the vessel faintly, though only the Power knew what damage my eyes, themselves had taken.  Seven years unable to see… that may have been worse than the loneliness.

You doubtless wonder what had happened.  Truth indeed is that it is too painful to tell; besides all that my vision is too much blurred for to give a fully defined and accurate rendering even yet.  This I will say, however: I was traveling to the planet called Jericho when thieves came upon me, and here they left me, bleeding and dying on the Jericho road.

Transmissions, still did faintly come through the communications system, staticky and broken.  Early in the season of this wound did pass by a vessel, the name whereof was the ‘Kirche,’ ever hopeful of help was I, when I heard her transmission.  The duty of the Kirche was to bind up the broken-hearted, to bring healing to the broken, and recovery of sight to the blind.  Yet seeing my state, and what had brought me there, the vessel administrators thought surely I had brought this upon myself, and were unable to see any justification to give me assistance.  They had not the theology to align themselves with my spacial attitude. The Kirche with its many passengers, administrators and pilots passed me by – and there I remained adrift – that deep wound, underside of my heart seared.  (Truth be told most on the vessel had long since forgotten their stated purpose, and were more in the habit of putting out those just needy persons for to salvage the treacherous, the vagabonds, the scoundrels.  This they thought their duty now – the bearing of the cross when ingrates did spit in their face for their affections.  Yet I surely hope and pray that their work is to some degree effective in saving their souls, rather than merely earning the scorn of contemptuous persons, or the occasional respect of gratitude.)

Along about a short while later came another vessel, this called the Kin.  Surely the Kin would help, her duty was ever to nourish, and cherish her members of which I was one.  The Kin, was troubled in mind about me, however, for though I was a member of it I was also a member both of the Kirche, as well as the Kingdom itself.  Those of the Kin were all of the same – yet they could not fathom my dutifulness to the Kingdom for I held it as above that of Kirche, and Kin.  Indeed it was on the direct orders of the Kingdom, in my line of duty thereto that I had sustained these wounds.  For this mission I had been fitted as a battleship in order to destroy from our midst a festering agent of destruction.

The Kin, like the Kirche could not understand the kingdom directive, which supersedes all other directives.  The Kirche had not taken cause for mine help, how then, could they?  Instead these believed me to be the thief, as I appeared not to submit to the higher ranks of they, nor the Kirche, but behaved as aggressive as necessary for the mission given by the Kingdom.  Did I not know that the Kingdom was for peace?  How, then, could I do aggressively to cut off even an element of destruction?

And the Kin did pass me by.

There I stayed, adrift as it were, in space with none to help me.  Had I done well?  Had I done right in completing the mission assigned me, aggressive though it may be?  Only my wounds, and rejection said no.  The Kingdom Orders remained.  I had done as directed, and found that the fleet was far removed from the Kingdom it feigned to serve.  They had their manuals, they had their exercises, and maneuvers, they had a general directive toward which they stumblingly strove to advance, but by and large they had lost the heart of the Kingdom.  They had no specific orders, no particular mission (well… at least none they were aware of), indeed, in many ways they were as they had left me though without such obvious wounds.

Do not weep for me, my story is not over yet.  Though bleak at this measure a reward waits those who fulfill their mission no matter the cost.

And so it was after seven long years (forty cycles) that a third vessel came.  This was the True Kingdom vessel, though it was invisible.  It was called, in this case, Samaritan (though it has many other names, and is not one vessel but three (and seven all simultaneously – consider this not too deeply with your mind for it is a mystery, and beyond the limitations of our dimension)).  Is the Samaritan a vessel at all?  He is the Power, the life force of all, and He goes when and where He pleases with not the bounds of time or space.  And even as He passes, if you be able to distinguish Him, you cannot discern whence he cometh, neither distinguish whitherto His passage will take Him.

Yet this Great Being was, indeed, a vessel one day – and in this case His name was Samaritan.  This vessel, being pan-dimensional, inter-laid Himself with mine own.  Bear in mind that this is a being beyond our dimension, and not to be harmed with the wounds of a body, yet nevertheless when He merged with my vessel – when He merged with my very self my wounds became His (if you can imagine such a thing!).  This blending even took the properties of the Beings limitlessness, for when my wounds were His own, it was as though they had always been!

These wounds were not now removed, but they now were shared – and always had been.  Now am I not alone – and never have been.  And the memory of the Samaritan began to revive.  I have known Him, and O what WONDERS!  Many things supernatural were done always by Him, and when He is you you are empowered to be like Him!  There are worlds of wonder in Him… what memories!  Some mine own, and others eternal, universal.  Mine own were, of course, the most vivid.  Yes this was the Kingdom, Himself, and ’twas in His service I had sustained such lot.

Now do I see Him rejected, and scorned of all – even those of His own fleet know Him not for they have forsaken His being for their manuals, their exercises, and their maneuvers.  Many think that these ARE He, and others like one, all, or each of these better than the vastness of Him, for Truly He is a terrifying wonder!  Truth be told, though the manuals speak of Him, their technical language holds them oft at bay from the Real organic person.  Exposed to the real thing, invisible raw Power, they are made aware of Holiness, which makes them despise themselves, therefore they scorn His presence, and desire He never come to them but only at their bidding.  This, then, is how they use the manuals, exercises and maneuvers: in such a way as they feel they’ve met their duty, but not as heartily longing for the Kingdom in its unutterably unpredictable Power.

Thus the Samaritan is despised of all, and set alone.  Here adrift and wounded, dizzy from years of weightlessness, He knew me all too well.  I suppose that even if He did not know all things, He still would know me.  We two were of the same vessel; the insults of those who insulted Him had fallen upon me, and here was I, nearly destroyed by what He endureth day upon day without end in this world.  And the insults of those who insulted me have fallen on Him.  Yes, He, the Great Empath had taken all of my sorrows along with His unfathomable own.

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