The Taleswappers’ Porch

“Michael!” the angel called. “Michael, where are you?”

Michael paused in his drill, his sword halted in mid-swing. “What is it, Gabriel?”

“It’s Jesus, Michael. You have to come see.”

Michael sighed and put up his sword. He didn’t have to physically put it away, but the archangel found it such a satisfying feeling to put away his sword after working out. He knew it was a strange affectation, like the humans would do, since all he had to do was visualize his sword where he wanted it, and it would be there. But still, the ching that the sword made sliding into its scabbard, and the solidity as he hung it on the wall, always comforted him. “I’m coming!”

Gabriel was standing at the gateway to the Kingdom, and his mouth was gaping. “Brother, you look like a fish,” said Michael. “What on earth is wrong?”

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Since it’s Sunday, and since I’ve just written two pieces on the Transfiguration, I thought that this week, I’d share some story snippets about transforming moments along my journey.

The first memory I have of a brush with the infinite was when I was almost-four or just-turned-four, when we were living in Army quarters in Indiana while my dad finished college. It was a summer afternoon, and I remember swinging on a swingset. The sky started to turn that strange pink color that it can get just before a thunderstorm, and the air felt electrified, expectant. The world seemed enormous around me, grass stretching out on all sides to the woods far away. And I knew a monster was coming. Godzilla, to be precise. I was frightened, and I ran inside. Mom wanted me to take care of some chore or other that required me to go outside, only a little ways, but still outside. I refused, huddled by the window to watch and wait for Godzilla, shivering with fear.

(Continue Reading …)