Song of Aenon

By Robert K. Stevenson

When one of the most significant events of human history occurs, the response is not unlike the first. There will be predictable bewilderment and confusion followed by outright unbelief and dismissal. This time the lone planet will be left to the children of confusion, an Ichabod generation whose self-righteous, self-inflected vision has walked them to the brink of eternity.

However, there will always be a remnant that catches a glimpse of the glory, longs for the breath of grace, and searches for truth in the Word. Such is Gordon Munroe, left alone on a mountain top in the final chapters of Seed of My Heart. The descent from the summit has led him into a new wilderness. Confused, bewildered, and in shaking disbelief, his choices now seem destined to send him on a path where normal life has been stolen away, and he is now caught between grace and judgment.

Something precious is gone in a moment, and he is there on the summit when it leaves. Covered for an instant by the light of lights, he hears a pulsing river of voices as his brother and friends step off the mountain. Those that vanished have answered the call with open hearts, are made righteous by faith, and are now given His glory. What was spoken, written, and promised has now been delivered.

Gordon now wallows in a new misery from the old life he left behind. Despite the descending darkness, he is about to learn that Gods Spirit is eternal, that His promises spoken and written are unchangeable, and that some remaining hope and healing may rest with a teenage boy whose spirit is stamped with an ancient promise and sealed with a song.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Nov 23, 2015
• ISBN: 9781512719192

Robert K. Stevenson

Robert K. Stevenson was led into the Word of God in 2006 and in these past eight years has seen the hand of the Lord move in ways that are precious and filled with light and revelation. His experience has been that when grace finds you, Scripture will open your heart to His. His prayer is that, by His Spirit, you will find that your path becomes light, and you will discover that an ordinary life must be left behind. His first novel, Seed of My Heart, was published in 2012.

Book preview

Forward

I THANK You Lord for giving me the opportunity to write and publish what has become a story from the heart; one which I trust is worthy in some small manner of Your great love and G race.

From Genesis to Revelation, through the trek of Abraham, on the Road to Damascus with Paul, to the Island of Patmos with John; It is like the undiscovered country -- a frontier with no road marks, only a moving cloud of God's Presence and the Shinning Light of His Spirit -- The realm of His Word, and where that Word became flesh -- the promised place of Grace; a priceless gift He wants us to know intimately and to take it as a permanent possession -- to live in it, and call it our very own.

It was during on of those step by step walks in the Word, lingering in the Spirit with an old prophet that a verse sang in my ears and dove straight into my heart. It was that message and inspiration that yielded this book - not through outlines in spiral notebooks; but one word at a time, some born from the tattered entries of my journal; but every sentence was a step of faith.

The picture I have tried to paint is an image that casts light on the Lord's heart and hand in the future, one that will be manifested in ways we cannot fully know presently.

I elected to use, the character of Gordon Monroe - an almost tangental player from 'Seed of My Heart'- for the purpose of revealing life in a new wilderness - a space and place in time left vacant by the departure of the saints and prescribed by scripture.

The cast of characters that emerged from this desert of humanity, appeared one by one as if on cue. I did not focus on the surrounding ever creeping upheaval of a world seemingly without Grace; but rather wrote of awakening faith in a trial for Life. We find people lost in a dark world searching for light, healing and longing for their eternal purpose. Within the shadow of His wings, they find shelter in the storm.

I would like to thank several people, beginning with my wife, for her steadfast love; my son Boe who helped me with my cover design, and my cousin Terri for providing the superb cover photo. I also would like to thank my church family and the men's Bible Study group. I would also like to thank my sister in Christ for her steady commitment and encouragement.

Finally I would like to dedicate this book to my grand daughter Macy Claire who's generous heart always offers wisdom and motivation for me to live beyond my once ordinary life.

Part 1

John Chapter 16: 9 (NLT) :

The world's sin is that it refuses to believe in me.

Early on the morning, on the Third day,

there was a roaring storm and legions of lightning covered the entire earth...

Chapter 1: People in the Storm

"I T was like it happened yesterday, and yet I wonder at times if it ever happened at all. The storm... the lightning, the microburst... I was blind for several minutes. It was just me and the shepherd's dog. We finally got to the shack for the night and made a fire. Then the next day, we went down the mountain... well, and half way down, I'm perched on a hill trying to get a connection on my cellphone. I have the phone in one hand and a shotgun in the other. It rang and rang... But, it didn't matter. Monica was gone too; and I was now covered in blood from the lambs. Something from heaven had come to earth, I'm convinced of that... yes... and something from earth had gone to heaven." Statement from Gordon Mu nroe.

Vi Johnsrud fumbled through her large leather purse - the one emboldened on every side with rhinestones and turquoise. After what seemed like five minutes, she finally located her cell phone only to find it dead. The excursion into the forested countryside to spend time with her best friend from college came off without a hitch. High in the mountains at a secluded cabin on a small lake, the two had talked and played for almost a week. It was the sort of thing she relished and deserved, she mused; as she mumbled something about leaving her phone charger at home. Now it was time to head back to the city and she fumed for a moment that she couldn't call the women in her church group on her way down the mountain pass.

'Connley, Pastor Connley' she thought, 'he would be expecting her to get the thing together; as usual.' The Wednesday bible study at the church was two days away and she was in charge of refreshments. 'Thank heaven, Monica had stepped up to do the scripture Connley had assigned. 'Cookies, I can do the cookies....' she mused as she turned the Lexus onto the pavement and pulled the visor down against the noon day sun.

The Northwest was beautiful in late September. 'It was a great week,' she thought - the leaves were still green and the lake water had been warm; and Denise had been a great host. The cabin was more like staying at a resort as Denise's husband's investments over the years had left them in handsome shape. Vivian had thought such would be hers one day. However, when Alfred passed on, those dreams evaporated. 'Sixty one is too young.' She had repeated that over and over again. It had been five years ago since Alfred's fatal heart attack and Vi was now having to consider selling her aging four bedroom home and moving into a tiny condo. 'But, not just yet,' she mused. She still had her eye on one Nelson Jennings.

She pulled the car off at a small rest stop and scrambled through her glove compartment to find her other phone plug in. Moments later, the light blinked and winked and Vi punched up her friend Maureen, and pulled back into the light traffic. She looked ahead as traffic began to slow, then she estimated that her time to arrive home would be before six in the evening. Maureen wasn't answering.

Vi grinned a bit as she recalled being in the wine cellar with Denise Sunday afternoon. The two had decided to pick out some wine for the evening when the lights went out. In fact all the power had gone out for nearly three hours. They could hear the thunder booming through the house above and vibrating the structure. She recalled the two of them jumping as the lightning bristled and struck outside.

So they had remained in the dim lit cellar with a small battery lantern and opened a six year old bottle of white wine. Most of the wine was gone when they emerged from the basement cellar and their mood was light as they saw the sun breaking through the blackened storm clouds.

To their amazement, not a single branch had fallen to the ground. The grass was soaking wet as the sun light began to crowd around the bird bath and bushes. 'It looked as if everything had been retained in its place and watered by the dew of heaven.' she thought; 'just as it should be.'

Adrian Andrews had managed to make it a long week-end, but now as he pulled his small boat onto the trailer; it was over. The phone in the cab of the pick-up showed eight calls - all from his secretary at the law office.

Colleen was responsible for just three attorneys, but she always seemed to have plenty of time to load up Adrian's plate. He knew the weeks' schedule better than she did: two more divorces, a child custody hearing, a break-in of a local tire shop and a stolen tractor.

Montana offered peaceful fishing and steady work most of the time. Adrian, at forty, could do pretty much what he wanted, when he wanted. Never married, and living in a small community, he had the life he sought: a very decent income and good hunting, fishing and hiking.

An hour later he was home. He watered Gus, his five year old retriever; put a frozen dinner in the micro wave and opened a tall can of his favorite beverage. He then sat back in his big worn leather recliner and kicked off his boots. He slowly rolled his eyes as he listened to his messages. Finally relenting, he picked up his pen and notebook and began writing. 'Okay Colleen, the last message,' he thought; 'now...what else?'

... County attorney said to call him first thing in the morning. He's got a guy in jail that needs a public defender; and you're up - your turn in the rotation. Anyway, it's a little weird according to Carl Long the deputy that brought him in. He's driving a car that's not his and everyone he was visiting on the farm is missing - and he had a lot of blood on his clothes. But, that's all I know, so call him first thing.

Adrian thought, 'just great! Fall fishing is just getting good and now I get tied up with a long winded case with some stranger... while that's not happening - gonna wrap this up quick!'

The bell dinged on the microwave, and Adrian rose from his chair and stepped into the kitchen. He punched his cell phone just twice: Dispatch, get me Deputy Long's home number.... yes, right now!

three months earlier: Monida Pass, Montana - Idaho border

Sig Wright pulled his Kenworth semi down into fifth and under as he took the off-ramp near the top of the pass. Ahead he could see the opening blue sky dropping down and across the the vast desert-like flatlands of southern Idaho.

He had made this trip nearly fifty times a year for the past seven years; and today was 'no different,' he thought. He was a little tired and often planned a thirty minute, to an hour, nap at this rest stop. Today was no exception, as a little June cloud attempted to cover his windshield with fresh rain. Today was just like many here; clean cool air and a cold sandwich from his lunch bag; a nap followed by a hot cup of coffee - then onto Salt Lake City.

After getting out of the rig and stretching, he looked East toward the greening mountains of Montana, then he climbed back in the cab and laid back in the bunk and dosed in the late afternoon. The glint of the crystal stone hanging from the cab ceiling above the dash sprinkled darts of light on his khaki ball cap, and soon Sig was deep into his nap.

During his short nap, Sig was unaware as a green sedan slowed to a stop on the opposite side of the interstate. The vehicle then moved off quietly leaving its' cargo across the highway from Sig's rig. An odd deposit; an aberration one would think, leaving a young boy across from a rest stop at the top of the pass.

Minutes later, Carmen Luke Maki stood in the flickering sunshine smiling as he made his way to the front of the semi. He now stood some twenty feet in front of it, sipping on a bottle of water; turning away only once to watch as five Sand Hill Cranes soared low over the highway on their way north for the summer.

Twenty minutes later, Luke was still staring at the front of the truck when Sig stirred from his bunk and crawled to the front seat. Sig unscrewed the lid from his thermos and carefully poured a full cup of dark coffee into the insulated metal cup. As he raised the cup to his lips, he squinted into the light; then stopped. What! Who is that?, he blurted and then reached for the door handle, opened the door and stepped out on the cab step.

You lost, boy, Sig hollered? He then twisted his head from his vantage point looking for another vehicle.

Luke did not reply but continued to smile at Sig; then began to walk closer to the front of the truck.

Sig studied the boy for a moment, then asked: So, you are here by yourself...where you headed?

Luke lifted his head and tugged on his cap: I'm lookin to go West...any chance of a lift?

How old are you boy and how did you get here?

I'll be fifteen soon and a friend dropped me. If I can get to the truck stop down the hill, a guy said I could work there this summer. You know a guy named Eugene?

Sig knew Eugene. He managed the truck-stop another forty miles down the hill, and Sig had known him some over the years. It was Sig's gas stop on the way back from Salt Lake.

So, you know Eugene, huh? Sig hesitated: 'why would this kid be left here?' The east-west interstate here had no north-south connections for miles.

Sig concluded someone had driven him to the top of this mountain and just left him. 'I can't just leave him,' Sig thought. Sig had three young boys at home.

Okay... you got a name?

The boy grinned, Luke.

Get in Luke, I'll take you as far as Eugene's. Luke scrambled up the passenger side of the truck and found the large seat and buckled in.

Thanks Sig, he smiled and his greenish eyes sparkled and darted around the cab.

I've never rode in a big rig like this before.

Sig winced, 'so he can read my name on the door... so what kind of little genius do we have here?'

He wanted to dislike the kid, but for some reason, he couldn't do it with those bright green eyes sweeping over him every two minutes like an innocent whiff of green clover.

They were twenty minutes down the interstate when Sig looked over to see Luke leafing through a small book and underlining or writing with a sawed off pencil.. What a ya keepin a mileage log... or somethin?

Luke smiled and held up an old brown New Testament.

Sig ignored the gesture and cleared his throat, then he turned to his young rider and asked: So Luke, what is your full name...seeing as how you know mine?

Luke's eyes went from light to serene. I am Carmen Luke Maki.

Humph...so that Carmen...that's what? What kind of name is that?

It's Italian, but I am not Italian exactly. My great, great, Grand mother was Sicilian, Luke explained directly in a matter-of-fact way. I like the name, but everyone prefers Luke.

Okay Carmen Luke...what are you reading?

I'm reading Matthew; the last part: the Crucifixion.

Read some...years ago. Just didn't click with me I guess, drawled Sig; never could get much out of it. The family, mom and dad; well they might have believed, but it wasn't stuff we talked about back then. Guess each of us has a different way of looking at it, you know...seeing the truth?

Carmen shifted in his seat so that he could get a better look at Sig. At the same time he saw the photo stuck near the windshield. Sig...that would be seven or eight billion separate truths or individual opinions about who God is.

Sig contemplated the thought for a moment, but said nothing. Finally, he spoke: Got one boy who read some bible stuff; I think. But then, he's always got his nose in some book.

God is who He says He is; here in His Word, Luke continued; we don't have to wonder or guess, it's all right here.

Sig flicked on the turn indicator as the off ramp was now within a quarter of a mile; then he turned and said, it... when I'd read it, just never rang true Luke...maybe someday, I'll try it again.

Sig, are those your boys, he said pointing to the picture taped to the dash? Sig nodded and began downshifting the semi.

Sig...you don't want those boys to miss out on God's Kingdom, do you?

Sig turned toward Luke and pulled his hat down low. No Luke; I guess.... I guess I don't want that... Sig's words trailed off into the whine of the motor, and as he took his attention off the road for a moment, he noticed a tear in each eye of his young passenger.

Five minutes later, the truck completed the turn into the large gas station and food store; and Sig pulled in near the parking lot exit. As he unbuckled his seat belt, he felt Luke's hand on his arm.

Sig, can I just say a little prayer... for you and your boys, that you will begin to understand scripture as you read it again... in fact I would like to read some of what I've been reading?

Sig raised the bill of his cap off his nose, then tossed it on the dash: go ahead Luke; I'm listening.

"Precious Father, put these words into Sig's heart that he may know you and your son Jesus Christ...I read from Matthew Chapter 27 starting in verse 45-49 (NLT) as follows:

At noon, darkness fell across the whole land until three o'clock. At about three o'clock, Jesus called out with a loud voice, 'Eli, Eli lema sabachthani?' which means 'My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?' Some of the bystanders misunderstood and thought he was calling for the prophet Elijah. One of them ran and filled a sponge with sour wine, holding it up to him on a reed stick so he could drink. But the rest said, Wait! Let's see wether Elijah comes to save him."

Luke placed his hand back on Sig's arm and continued:

Then Jesus shouted out again, and he released his spirit. Matthew 27: 50 (NLT).

At that moment the curtain in the sanctuary was torn in two, from top to bottom. The earth shook, rocks split apart, and tombs opened. The bodies of many godly men and women who had died were raised from the dead. They left the cemetery after Jesus' resurrection, went into the holy city of Jerusalem, and appeared to many people. The Roman officer and the other soldiers at the crucifixion were terrified by the earthquake and all that had happened. They said, 'This man truly was the Son of God!' Matthew 27: 51-54 (NLT).

Thank you Lord, Amen, Luke said as he ended the prayer. There was a quiet moment for a couple seconds, then Luke spoke again: Well...thanks Sig; thanks for the lift.

Sig slowly reached for his hat and turning to Luke, and he smiled. Okay now, You take care, replied Sig as he stepped down from the cab.

Sig picked up his hammer to check his tires and looked for a moment as Luke walked toward the food store. There was a small cafe in there and Sig supposed Luke would be busing tables and washing dishes.

As he walked into the food mart, Sig asked for Eugene, only to learn that he was not due back from the Falls until late. 'Never mind,' Sig thought, 'I'll check with Eugene on Wednesday on my return trip and just see how Luke is working out.'

Sig's rig was soon on the way and less than six hours later, he rolled into the warehouse complex in Salt Lake City.

Salt Lake City - Wrangler Motel

It had been a long day and with a delay at the loading dock, it was after eleven when Sig made it to his regular hotel. He had talked to his wife and all three boys earlier in the evening, grabbed a bite to eat and rolled into bed after a short shower. Sig replayed the encounter with Luke for a short while; then fell fast asleep. As he slipped off into the darkness and the hum of the air-conditioner, Sig began to dream.

Clouds of dust rippled about him. People and forms shifted in and out of view. The sky then turned black and bristled with lightning and sand pelted his face as he crept low behind a rock. Something kept moving him closer and closer to the top of the hill. Some of the crowd that had gathered were beginning to leave and rushed past him, but Sig kept moving forward while occasional drops of wind-driven rain raked across his face.

As the people parted away from him, he was able now to see clearly; now less than fifty feet from the crest of the hill. At the top of the ridge were three crosses - and there was movement; and those impaled on the crosses were moving. Men were tacked to them like insects; like worms on a hook. Sig reeled gasping for air - every breath was like acid burning in his throat. He slowly rose to his feet and he stepped closer until he was standing near the centurion. The sentry's hands were huge and covered with dried blood.

As Sig stared up at the man in the middle, the sky became slate black; and then the man spoke - and as he did, bright white letters were pounded out in the surrounding darkness of the sky - letters, then words shown above and behind the cross:

My God, My God, why have you abandoned me? As a man ran forward to Jesus with a sponge on a stick, a voice beside Sig spoke: Son.

Sig turned, but could not see anyone near him. The white letters continued to be struck into the blackness of the sky pouring out the scripture from Matthew 27.

Then he heard the voice again: Now, the Son is separated from the Father, The One Holy God, the Father cannot look on sin - Jesus is making a way for all men who respond to the call of the Father. In this unknowable agony, He has taken all our sin on himself, for you and me, for your sons and mine. He is restoring our connection with the Father - Jesus in making a path for our righteousness and He has opened the door of Grace.

Then all was black, all movement seemed to grind to a stop. Sig could feel the darkness draping around everything. The white letters were gone, and there in their place, was a vapid, empty stillness and the air had become fouled with the smell of death.

The voice spoke again. Sig's body shuddered, suddenly aware now of his trembling as he gasped for breath. Sig's knees sank deeper into the mud and the ground shook again.

This life is now poured out for you, that you might have LIFE, the voice said.

Life, Sig questioned...life?

Yes, LIFE! Son... live in faithful expectation.

When Jesus had received the vinegar, he said, 'It is finished;' and he bowed his head and gave up his spirit. John 19: 30 (RSV). The Lord's last words slowly tumbled past Sig's ears as if they were whispered just for Him.

Sig struggled again to look up and as he did, he saw Jesus still as a stone and darkness was draped over everything. Sig felt the earth beneath him quiver and groan. Once again lightning lit up the sky... and there was blood and water running everywhere around him, now covering Sig's hands. He continued to shake and then he felt as if his chest was being pounded open and he began sobbing and couldn't stop.

Then Sig felt a hand upon his shoulder and as he turned, he was covered by light. His hands trembled as reached toward the light; and in the next instant, Sig felt a breath cover him completely. A moment later, a single flame stirred from some deep place inside him until it reached the end of his trembling finger tips.

Sig cried out an un-intelligible sound; then whispered loudly: Lord... Oh my Lord!

A moment later, the voice spoke out of the light:

Fear not, son of Ephraim, fear not; your old mantel has been cast off. You have passed from death unto Life.

Then Sig awoke. Tears still streamed down his face; his chest was still heaving. He turned over slowly and looked around the room. He felt his panic return again for a brief moment, as the room felt completely black. Then his eyes caught the small blue light on the dresser. The clock alarm read 3:33 am.

wednesday

Sig had got out of the city later than scheduled and it was almost seven in the evening when he stopped at the food and fuel mart in Idaho. Despite the late hour, he was hoping to find Eugene and to see how Luke was working out - even more importantly, Sig wanted to talk to Luke.

Once the semi was refueled, Sig walked into store and inquired of the clerk if Eugene was still in the building.

She looked at him and squinted her bright blue eyes, as if she knew him, but wasn't sure. Then she looked at the credit card receipt: Yeah Sig, he might still be in the coffee shop - he always eats late. Sig nodded, then walked past his favorite frozen milkshake machine and into the dinning area.

He glanced about quickly hoping to catch a view of Luke sweeping away someone's dishes. He did not see him, but spotted Eugene in the corner with a large rib-eye on his plate and the day's paper in his hand.

Eugene glanced up as Sig drew near. He rested the paper on the table. Sig, ya got time for coffee...dinner? My treat.

Sig considered the invitation and sat down. Maybe some coffee, he replied... just coffee and a little cream.

The waitress nearby hearing the request went for Sig's coffee. Don't mean to break up your dinner hour Eugene, but just wanted to check on this kid I picked up on Monday. How's Luke working out?

The waitress placed the coffee and creamer in front of Sig, and he began to add the cream; then looked to Eugene for a response as he was finishing a large bite of steak.

Luke? Don't got no Luke...Luke who?

Luke Maki, replied Sig.