Lost Near Eternity

By D.E. Bowman

When I heard Larry say that, I realized that Abigail had said basically the same thing. I had been up to that point, basing everything I did on those three things: how something looked, what I heard, or how I felt about it.

Suddenly, I saw myself alone in a universe I knew nothing about. I had no understanding of what was really out there. It made me feel cold and desolate. I could see, far off in the distance, a warm and welcoming light beckoning to me. But I was no closer to reaching it.

Everything in my little world was vanishing. I had been profoundly changed by the things I had seen, and there was nothing I could do about it. There was no going back. There was no way to go back. Only the future stood before me and the realization that I was lost near eternity.

Inspired by a true story.

This fictional account of the main character, Joe Klempkins experience; in the intensity of his situations; brings to light the reality of what he finds: identity and feelings of being lost and the reality of our own struggles as weve all searched for our own answers. Join Joe and his friends as he searches for his answers, and you just may find some of your own

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Dec 12, 2014
• ISBN: 9781490861708

D.E. Bowman

She earned a diploma from RHEMA Bible College and after the tragic deaths of her two terminally ill children her inspirational poem, “One Thousand Years” was nominated for best poem of the year, and got her inducted into the International Poets Society.  She now resides in Texas.   visit : www.lostneareternity.com

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Copyright © 2014 D.E. Bowman

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Scripture taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

WestBow Press

A Division of Thomas Nelson & Zondervan

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Bloomington, IN 47403

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

ISBN: 978-1-4908-6168-5 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4908-6169-2 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4908-6170-8 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014921433

www.lostneareternity.com

WestBow Press rev. date: 12/9/2014

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Dedicated to all those searching for light in a dark place.

Stand ye in the ways, and see, and ask for the old paths, where is the good way, and walk therein, and ye shall find rest for your souls.

—Jeremiah 6:17 (KJV)

Prologue

H i, my name is Joe. My real name is Joseph, but everyone calls me Joe. I remember when I was just a kid and my mom used to take me and my younger brother to church.

Every Sunday she would primp her hair, put on some sweet-smelling perfume, and dress up in one of her modest, flowery dresses. Then she’d smile as she stuffed us into matching blue suits, combed our hair, and strangled us with our ties. She meant well, but I always felt the need to loosen mine.

Paul, my brother, never said anything. He only made funny faces, reached for his tie, and swallowed hard until Mom noticed. It made me snicker. Mom would say, What’s wrong, Paul? He’d swallow hard again, and she would quickly loosen his tie and herd us into the car.

That was just the way it was. It was the image of respectability—no dirt, combed hair, and stuffy suits.

The church we went to was the small-town kind—you know, the kind with wooden floors that clattered with every footstep. There were wooden pews with hymnbooks in little book holders on their backs, and the seats were full of what others considered respectable people.

I always noticed that by the time the service started the room always felt hot and airless. I welcomed the soft breeze of the fan that worked silently over our heads. The heat caused Paul to sag into sleep. Only the occasional nudge from Mom could cause any sign of life in him. His head would bob and his eyes would roll as he fought for consciousness, but then he would quickly fall back into his sedated state.

I looked at my brother and sighed. Then I turned my attention past the podium and studied the cross behind it. Was this what God had in mind?

I felt a deep yawn coming on, and I did my best to hide it as I looked around at everyone. They all looked so serious. I wondered what they were all thinking about.

Suddenly I had an impulse to grab my brother, shake him, and yell at him at the top of my lungs, Why do you get to sleep?

Just as the urge began to gnaw my very core, it went away. A sigh of relief shook my body until my eyes stopped on the preacher. The look on his face made me think that he knew what I was thinking. Sweat covered my brow as concern swept over me. I felt that I was about to choke, and I heard a ringing in my ears. I saw that his mouth was moving, but I heard no words. He seemed to be able to project his thoughts.

What’s the matter with you? his eyes seemed to say angrily. You can’t act like that in church! Then he looked sharply away.

I wiped my forehead with my sleeve, relieved that he hadn’t said anything. I wished the service would end.

My mother looked at me with a smile and patted my leg. Boy, was I glad she didn’t know what I’d been thinking! What trouble I would have been in if she had. I smiled back at her and heaved another sigh as my hearing came back. The service was ending and I was glad.

I remember looking back at the church as we drove away, wondering what happened when everyone went home. Was God sitting in some chair waiting for us to come back next Sunday? Was He walking around in the halls or the chapel? Was He sleeping there, or was He awake? And if he was awake, what was He doing?

When I turned away and looked toward the road, my thoughts of God quickly faded.

Only a few weeks earlier, my older sister Heather had died. Heather had become desperately ill, and there hadn’t seemed to be anything anyone could do about it.

I remember all the blank faces, the sobbing, red eyes, and the heaviness in my own chest. Somehow I knew I would never see her again, even though I didn’t want to believe it. It was strange to see her empty chair at dinner. Mom was so upset by it that she had Heather’s chair permanently removed from the table.

I thought back again about that empty church building. Was God trapped in there? Was He only noticed on Sunday when everybody came? Couldn’t He have gotten out just long enough to save Heather?

I played with my peas at the table. I didn’t feel hungry anymore. It brought tears to my eyes to think that God was all alone at church with no one to talk to. I hated being alone. I thought it was cruel that people would only talk to Him on Sundays. How would they like it if no one talked to them but once a week? It brought a faint smile to my face when I thought of Mrs. Wimple. She was always talking to someone. She definitely wouldn’t be able to last a whole week without talking to anyone.

I looked across the table at my mom. A few stray strands of her dark hair hung about her solemn face. I wondered if she felt the same way I did. Did she too want to let God out? I stirred my potatoes as I contemplated the idea. She only went to church on Sundays. Well, she did mention God’s name on other days, but she wasn’t always happy when she did.

Paul dropped his fork, and it clanged against his plate. Everyone jumped at the same time. It was as if he had shocked everyone back to life.

He sunk slightly in anticipation of being in trouble, but when none came, he eagerly began eating again. How was he able to continue eating?

Here we all were: our sister was dead, God was locked up in a church somewhere, and Paul just ate like nothing was wrong.

I seized my glass of milk and took a drink as a thought hit me. I could be a hero and save God from those locked doors and darkened rooms. My mind raced at the thought of running down to that church and letting God out. My gaze became fixed on the open backdoor. The sun was low in the sky, and it would be getting dark soon.

My thoughts quickly turned back to my brother. Maybe he kept eating because he was just too young to understand what was going on. Then I sank. Maybe even I was too young to understand. It seemed to make perfect sense to the adults, and I was just a kid.

I looked around the table, and everyone was busy eating. I sighed heavily and looked at my own plate. I decided I would have to wait until I too got older. I dug into my potatoes and spent the rest of my dinner believing that when I got older it would all make sense to me as it did to the rest of the adults.

Twenty years later…

Chapter 1

I t was dark. Only a faint light from the bathroom down the hall penetrated the darkness. I found myself suddenly sitting up in my bed, startled by a mind-altering sight. I pulled my covers up close.

A mystical, ghostlike figure stood in the doorway of my room.

My heart was pounding as I gasped. I was not accustomed to such a sight. My eyes were fixed on its mesmerizing brightness.

The longer I looked at it, the more I began to surmise that it might be an angel. Its shoulders looked wide enough to sustain wings, but since I had never seen an angel before I couldn’t be sure.

It seemed odd to me that an angel would come to see me anyway. Me? I was just a decision away from being on the street. Who was I? I didn’t even have a job. When it came to things about God—whether there was one, or if it even mattered—I was just as confused as the next guy.

Now I had something in my room that seemed to prove to me that there really was a spirit realm.

Just when I thought I was about to short-circuit, overcome by the idea that an angel was in my room, it spoke in an audible voice in a language I could understand, and in a somewhat lofty manner.

Look at me.

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It got me to look at it as if we were engaging in conversation. It had my eyes glued to it as if it was a good movie. Lines of color radiated from this being as if open electrical currents were shocking their way into the open air, flashing rainbows of color like light off a diamond. Then a more radiant light came from within, flashing like thousands of layers of mirrors with white smoke gently floating around and dancing in the sunlight. The image kept changing, casting off light like the aurora borealis.

Am I not beautiful? the being said.

I had to admit that it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. It took my breath away. I was mesmerized by the fact that something like this was appearing to me.

Its head tilted, and its arms moved in a peaceful manner, as if it was my privilege and honor that this being was paying me a visit. It raised its arms, and currents of light radiated down its white garment, making every light vibrate in a more brilliant display. It began to turn from side to side, showing off its glory. Then it lifted its head in full display.

I am God, it said. Worship me.

The more I looked at it, the more I noticed that its insides were always changing. Each time I thought I saw something, it moved and changed again. It was impossible to get a real fix on anything solid, as I could never clearly see what was before me.

Then from behind me I heard a booming voice say, In God there is no darkness, neither shadow of turning.

Just as it finished speaking those words, the being turned, and I saw it: a shadow of darkness in its midst. It was revealed for only a second or two.

Suddenly those words made sense to me. My eyes widened as I looked at the being with new eyes. My words just flew out. You’re not God! You’re the Devil!

The once-brilliant light sucked away as if into a black hole, like a magician’s bag of tricks. Now only a dark, ghostly figure stood in the doorway.

I will never worship you! I shouted.

Then the figure was gone.

Now it seemed like words were speaking through me in the same voice as the one that had spoken from behind me. Satan himself is transformed into an angel of light. Therefore it is no great thing if his ministers also be transformed as the ministers of righteousness. The being had created an illusion and made itself look like an angel of light.

I began to wonder how it was that words from the Bible had been able to jump into me like that. And how had I even known that the words were from the Bible?

The same voice seemed to say within me, Because as a child you heard those words, and I bring all things to your remembrance, whatsoever things you have heard of me. Because you had heard those words before, you knew what to do, and you were delivered from the blindness of deception and the chains of falsehood.

Words saved me from deception?

For the first time, I was glad my mom had made me go to church. I shuddered to think what might have happened had I never heard those words before. I felt a strong curiosity building in me. I was haunted by the dread of what I didn’t know and what could happen because of it.

I thought about the angel of light’s insides, how it had always been moving like smoke and mirrors. I had focused on how it looked and not on what it was. Now I truly understood the term smoke and mirrors. They covered something and reflected another.

Then Scriptures came to mind, and I thought of when I’d heard them, where and at what age I’d been. I tried to think of other Scriptures I might remember. Things began to make sense to me. Things I hadn’t thought about for a longtime, I began to understand. I didn’t want it to end. I wanted to hear more.

I didn’t even have a Bible in the house, yet something like this had happened to me. I couldn’t see the connection to me, but I sensed a new importance in the Book, and I wanted to know more. I decided I would go to a bookstore the next day and find one. I hadn’t even picked up a Bible in over twenty years, and now I found myself wanting to go buy one. Why?

Absolutely no one who was going to understand what I’d just experienced. It seemed too much to take in. My eyes began to feel heavy, and I felt a deep sleep come over me as I closed my eyes.

I found myself rising up to what seemed like space. The black sky was all around me, and the stars twinkled above me like diamonds on velvet. It was breathtaking. I thought. This must be what it feels like to be a superhero.—total freedom in earth and sky; a deep breath of living forever.

I came down through a faint cloud and saw a black mountain with the most hazardous, dangerous, and treacherous terrain.

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I had never seen anything like it. As I came closer, I realized that there were thousands of people climbing all over it, wearing all kinds of strange outfits, from richly outlandish to outright poverty.

Some had maps and ropes and were scanning the terrain. Some were calling out, No, this is the way! Some people listened, but others waved them off and kept going.

Then I saw that those who repeatedly changed their direction, fell off the mountain to their deaths. It was shocking. There was nothing these people could do except hope that it didn’t happen to them. Some bowed their heads when people fell, others just looked, and still others did not look at all, but just kept on climbing. Some had ropes that linked them together, and when one fell, they all did. Some had been strangled by their own ropes, and their lifeless bodies dangled there for onlookers to see. Some were fighting over which was the right way, while onlookers tried to decide which one of them to follow. Some were vicious and angry and fought their way up. I couldn’t understand why they would risk their lives like that. What was it for?

I was hovering