Jason softens again. “Well, do be careful. There are a lot of false teachers out there who are more into themselves than God. I just get very suspicious when I hear about some of these things attributed to the Holy Spirit that seem wild and crazy. Our God is a God of order.”
Steven nods along mostly agreeing. “But what if we are entering a new era? Might not God be moving and stirring his people in new ways as a sign. It’s just a thought.”
Jason presses his lips together then answers reluctantly. “Maybe. I do believe in the Holy Spirit and revivals. Be cautious though at the conference. Hey, do you mind if I pray for you?”
“Not at all. That would be great. I certainly don’t want to be misled. I’m just trying to follow God’s leading.”
Placing a hand on Steven’s shoulder Jason Closes his eyes and voices “Our great God and father. I ask you to give my brother Steven discernment. Thank you for working in him and help him to find your purposes and plan for him. We ask that your will be done in all things. Amen.”
“Amen.” echoes Steven before opening his eyes. He feels better and relieved, comforted by Jason’s concern, eased by the shared brotherhood of faith. Funny how one you have never met can be a brother in Christ. The two lapse into comfortable silence for a while. Steven checks out his window to see if there is view. All dark. Resting his head back, he closes his eyes and slips out of consciousness.
“Bong!” A loud electric noise sounds overhead. “We have now reached our cruising altitude and the captain has turned off the seat belt light” says a metallic female voice.
Steven blinks awake to the smell of reticulating cabin air. Jason is reading the in-flight magazine beside him. It and the sky mall magazine are the same as on his earlier flight. Across the isle a young woman watches an episode of desperate housewives on her laptop computer. Behind her a man is working a Sudoku puzzle. Behind himself, Steven can hear the beeps, chirps and taps of a kid playing a hand held game system. Time to do some more writing? Steven bends to pull out his sketchbook from under the seat in front of him. He pulls out the pen from its elastic loop on the cover and flips to empty white pages and waits. He waits for the flood of thoughts to come pouring. Closing his eyes and Steven tries to empty his mind, breathing deeply and watching the colors play against his closed eyelids. He squeezes his eyes tighter and the organic shapes grow brighter. Green and pink flowers bloom on black. He loosens his eyes and opens them. No thoughts come. He only wants to record what he feels compelled to write.
Flipping back through the previous pages of feverish writing, he wonders how much is from God and how much is just his own thoughts and opinions mixed in. The words had come so passionately and forcefully, almost overwhelming him. A particular page catches his attention, it describes the plot for a book he thought up a couple of weeks ago; one where missionaries to Brazil find a tribe who live near dinosaurs which are still alive in that part of the jungle. What catches Steven’s attention is how some words are bold and some words are faint. Why is the pressure of his hand stronger on certain words? He begins underlining the bolder words. Could this be some kind of clue to unlocking which words are more heart felt in his writing? He spends the next half hour underlining and examining a few pages.
Steven’s ears prick up as he hears a woman’s voice from the seat in front of him. “Well my mother isn’t doing very well to be honest. I’m traveling to see her in the hospital. She’s in a late stage of cancer.”
A second female voice replies” Oh, that’s terrible. I’m so sorry to hear it.”
Steven moved with compassion stands “I’m sorry, but I think I heard you say that you have a sick relative. Is that right?”
