I was watching an interview with Dr. Ana - Nanoparticles and Bioweapons - Alec Zeck and Dr Ana Mihalcea - (see the clip embedded above) when a voice said next to me “she’s wrong.” I looked over to see Gabriel lounging next to me where Mic had been a moment before. He was wearing Mic’s body, of course, but at this point I can easily tell them apart. It’s like identical twins: once when you get to know them you wonder how you ever were not able to tell them apart.
“What is she wrong about?” I asked. Dr. Ana had dropped a lot of information, but at this point she was speaking of God and our future battles to save our souls. I reached over to my tablet to back it up and replay it, and of course I stopped at the exact point he was referring to. I let it play through- she says a lot of great stuff in a short period. It sounded even better the second time around. “What is she wrong about?” I asked again.
“It’s not everyone.” Gabriel said. “Not everyone is divine. Not everyone has power to make change. Only a few of you are chosen. Not everyone can be saved. It’s too late for most. Humans have made their choice.”
“Isn’t God all about forgiveness?” I asked. “He was” Gabriel said. “Not anymore. You fucked up. You squandered your chance. His wrath is coming.”
That didn’t sound promising, although it wasn’t surprising. We’ve spent the last few weeks determining where we are in the biblical Revelation timeline, and we believe we are a lot closer to the end than most acknowledge. I knew Gabriel was not speaking of me in particular but of the human race in general, which is much worse. I can handle a fuck up and take my punishment, but the human race, on a grand scale? That’s Old Testament biblical level punishment coming our way.
“You’ve not been around for a while” I said to Gabriel, seeing where it would lead. I was longing for a deep conversation with him, but I’ve learned to not be presumptuous. “I’m always here” he replied. “But you haven’t come to talk to me….” I said. “You haven’t asked a question” he replied. “But I asked for you to come. I need your help.” I said. “I’ve been asking for weeks.”
“What do you need my help with?” Gabriel asked, curious. “Blessing the medals” I replied. Gabriel laughed. “Who did you ask for help?” “God” I replied. “I figured he would send you. He usually does.” “Good” Gabriel stated flatly. “Don’t pray to me. Only pray to Him.”
“I know that” I said. “If I have a question I ask you, if I need help I ask Him. But why didn’t He help?” I asked. “Didn’t he?” he prompted. “You’re lacking in your faith” he said, almost accusingly. “I am not. My doubts and questions only solidify my faith” I replied. “You don’t believe fully, with your whole being. He does” meaning Mic “that’s why I can be here. That’s why I cannot possess you” he said. “Why would you want to possess me?” I asked. Truly, I shudder at thought of giving myself up entirely. I will hang on to my doubts and questions, just in case. Not that I doubt or question God, just occasionally His messenger.
He ignored the question and asked again “Didn’t He help you with this already?” “Well, he gave me a prayer, but how can I bless the medals myself? That’s incredibly presumptuous” I said. “You’ve made priests and designated saints; isn’t that presumptuous?” he asked. “Not I” I replied. “You’ve elected an evil pope to destroy God’s church; isn’t that presumptuous?” he asked again. “Not I” I replied again. “Very well” he said, and he looked at me closely. “What was the prayer you were given?” he asked.
“I’ll remember it when I have to say it” I said. “I guess I just wanted permission.” “The prayer is permission” he said. “But you don’t need my help. Put them in his hands. He’ll know what to do. I’ll make sure he remembers.” He was speaking of Mic. “I hope you kept the other prayer- the one I gave him” he said. “What prayer?” I asked. “The one on your machine. You asked him if he wrote it. He didn’t. I did.”
“Of course I kept it. I just moved it. The show notes that go out with every podcast was not the appropriate place for it, unless you want the whole world to see it” I said. “No, just as long as you kept it. I cannot stay much longer. That thing is pulling me away” he said, nodding at the table. “What thing?” I asked. “The glass thing behind the black thing on the table.” He meant the dab rig. We had just done a dab before he came. “We call that the whomp. You don’t like the feeling?” I asked. “No!” he exclaimed. “Why do you do this?” he asked. “Pain relief, relaxation, fun” I answered. “You think this is fun?” he asked, slurring his words, struggling to hold on. I laughed. “Yup” I said, secretly enjoying his struggle a little too much, just as he passed out. I let him be for a minute while I let Shamus out, then brought Mic back. As usual, he has no recollection of the experience, but he did remember the medals when I prompted him.
The medals are replicas of the original Miracle Medal that has been handed down through my family for over a thousand years. Family legend says that our medal is one of thirteen, given as protection medals by Mary to her personal guard, chosen to keep her and the secret of her descendants safe. My grandfather took it off from around his neck at our wedding and gave it to Mic- the first time it has left our family in 17 generations. He told Mic it would keep him safe at war, as it had saved his life more times than he could count. And I swear it saved Mic’s life when he deployed, and has had a great deal to do with keeping him alive until the time came for him to fulfill his purpose. Shortly after the first time Gabriel came to me the medal disappeared, only to reappear almost a year later, after we learned about our history and our future. We’ve had it dated - it’s made of iron ferrite, and sent pictures of it to various places.
And here is the prayer that Gabriel wrote on our computer:
And when I vest my flashing sword,
And my hand takes hold in judgment,
I will take vengeance upon mine enemies,
And I will repay those who hase me.
O Lord, raise me to Thy right hand,
And count me among Thy Saints
Whosoever sheds mans last blood,
By man shall his blood be shed.
For In the Image of God, made He man.
Destroy that which is evil,
So that good may flourish.
And I shall count thee among my favored sheep,
And you shall have the protection
Of all the angels in Heaven.
Never shall innocent blood be shed,
Yet the blood of the wicked shall flow like a river.
The three shall spread their blackened wings,
And be the vengeful striking hammer of God.
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