But God asked me to (a story)

But God asked me to

Night after night, Charity was woken by the dream. She saw a large throne room, with what looked to be angels and grey shadows floating around in it. She heard some kind of harp music, but couldn’t see where the harps were. And she heard a loud voice calling her name.

Over and over.

Charity was startled awake whenever she responded, “yes?” She tried variant responses you would if someone was calling your name. And all it did was wake her. Nothing else happened in the dream.

She felt compelled to do certain things. These things were taking over her life. She was almost dragged into clothing stores and bought military style men’s clothing. She couldn’t seem to snack anymore, but felt compelled to eat very healthy food. She went to a gym and started working out and taking martial arts. And started running as well.

And then there was church.

Charity went so often it was intruding on her job and other obligations. But she couldn’t stay away. She now knew all the regular attendants by name, and could ask about their lives in specific ways, rather than general questions you’d ask a stranger. She also knew the order of songs and prayers. By heart. She’d been to the pastor’s house for supper a few times.

Funny thing was, her family weren’t that religious.

She was sleep deprived and feeling like her mind was not her own anymore. Her boss had had a few chats with her about her focus and had even written her up for it. She used to be the most reliable staff member and her boss was frustrated with her.

Charity had been taking courses, but since her concentration was so poor now, she had decided to take a term off. See if she couldn’t get this sleep thing under control.

And she had seen her family doctor. He took blood and listened to her concerns, then her chest and palpitated her stomach. There was nothing unusual in the labs, so he suggested she meditate before bed.

That didn’t work.

Every night, several times a night now, she had the dream. She had it so often she saw where the drapery was a bit worn. She saw which angels seemed to be the leaders. Which grey shadows seemed to be revered more. She could hum along to the hymns the harpists were playing. During the day, she would spend time looking in music stores for the songs. She even had found an internet site that allowed her to hum the song in to see if it was archived. She found a few of the songs that way. Which she was kind of glad about. They existed!

Charity started to hear a chatter in the background of the dream. But no matter how many languages she listened to, she couldn”t find it. Nor could she translate the words she occasionally heard. The internet search engines just weren’t up to the task. Neither was her friend the pastor.

In the midst of this, Charity started bleeding… I know! She’s a woman, but I don’t mean that she got her period. In fact that had stopped. The bleeding came from her wrists, her ankles and her side. She couldn’t stop it. Her doctor and pastor thought she was doing it to herself and were seriously worried about her. They were considering sectioning her for self-harming behaviour. Her doctor put her on a contract for such patients and booked her in with a psychiatrist. For an urgent, fast-tracked appointment.

It seemed the only place Charity got any comfort was at church. She lost her job and ended up volunteering at the church so she’d have a reason to be there every day for hours.

And she finally found out the name of the language on some obscure back site of the web. It was called Enochian. So she started learning the language so she could understand the angels. Maybe then she’d understand what they wanted from her.

They were saying the same phrase over and over. And finally she could understand what it was saying…

Charity, God has called you to go to war in His name.

Charity started to shake when she heard the translation the first time. She had made friends with the site owner and he confirmed what she tought the words she was hearing meant. He was thrilled for her!

Charity? Not so much!

But somehow she found herself at the recruitment office; then the boot camp; then the barracks of the nearest military town. At least the bleeding had slowed down!

Then the call came in. Charity’s group was sent overseas. And she found herself on the battlefield. Not even sure how any of this had happened. One year ago, she’d have told you you were crazy if you said she’d be fighting in a foreign country. “For God” was the stuff of legends and myths.

Not her life.

But here she was… A soldier for God. Named Cathal. And no one knew she was a girl.

9 thoughts on “But God asked me to (a story)

  1. Disturbing and dystopian in the most positive sense.

    As with a lot of your writing, there are simultaneous parallels with yesteryear and today to be seen and the fact that we can’t seem to learn from history does mean that we have a great chance of repeating a lot of egregious and avoidable mistakes now and into the future.

    Church army….God’s soldier….holy warrior….Ugh! What repulsive concepts they’ve always been. And how little we have advanced from them….

    Always good to see you lifting stones and shining lights where they ought to be.

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  2. Yes, we were fighting.
    And we’re fighting in thousands of wars today.
    Do not tell anyone that we want this.
    Those who want it For what purpose do they want
    and who are those who want this …
    Not our goals, not our desire to fight.
    We don’t want this for people.
    Others use us as a tool.
    We should fight really against them.
    That would be the real fight. Against war organizers.
    And then one day we will really win last.
    We shall overcam some day.

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      1. I hope I understand. You should know that I conceive in dictatorship and

        I was born in retaliation.
        And I lived in a dictatorship for a long time.
        If I wanted to be scared, I would have feared a lot.
        πŸ™‚
        But I do not want to bring trouble to you.

        Liked by 1 person

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