Lisa ‘Gravel’ Nickels, in her black and white cheerleader uniform, and her husband Flanders Nickels are wading down a countryside creek on their last date together in this life. God is taking Gravel from him because of their disobedience to God’s will for them. God had told Lisa, “Stay single and continue drawing sketches for Me.” God had told Flanders, “Stay single and continue writing stories for Me.” But instead they fall in love, get married, and stop their work for the Lord. She had quit her sketches. He had quit his stories. Thus wife and husband backslid on the Lord in their ministry in Christ. After ten years of this happy marriage, God is now about to take Lisa home to Heaven as judgment upon willful sin. And, at a “lake” in a creek, Gravel comes home to Heaven in their last moment together in this life.
The Tale of the Tale
By Mr. Morgan P. McCarthy
“Just look at all these pieces of clay pigeons everywhere down here, Flanders,” said the young woman. “They’re all over—on land and in the water—here in this nice little valley.”
“I know all about them, Gravel,” he said. “Blue Rock, Black Diamond, White Flier, and Herter’s”
She picked up a piece that was from a middle of a clay pigeon, and she said, “This one says, ‘Blue Rock.’”
“The most common ones I find down here,” he said. He and his little brother used to scavenge whole clay pigeons from broken clay pigeons down here and sell them for one cent each. He looked up at the steep hill to his right. On top of that hill was a level clay pigeon shooting range. And the remnants of these skeet targets landed down here in this beautiful valley with the creek. And many landed down here, missed by the shooters and still whole and left behind and forgotten. Thus his and his little brother’s unique little private enterprise for a summer some time ago. Down here among the
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broken pieces of hard clay of red and of white were also little trees and wild plants and comely horsetails.
His girl Gravel had on for him today her old high school cheerleader uniform from over ten years ago: Covering her torso was a long-sleeved Orlon acrylic cheerleader sweater of black and white with a chenille emblem that read, ‘LISA’; covering her loins was a polyester double-knit cheerleader skirt, black with eight white box pleats in between; covering her legs were a pair of sleek black tights of Lycra and nylon; and covering her feet were black sneakers with white shoelaces and white rubber soles.
“Gravel, come back with me into the creek,” said Flanders. “I want to see your pleats drip water off of the edges of your skirt.”
Gravel coquettishly cocked her beautiful head beguilingly to the side at him. How fetching were her brown wisps of hair—straight and shoulder-length and across her forehead in perfect bangs.
How vivacious were her eyes of brown, exuding with the light of the Holy Spirit God does give his born-again believers. How delightfully white was her complexion so American and never tarnished with suntan or sunburn. She replied now to his flirt with a flirt of her own, saying, “I’ll jump back into the creek for you, Mr. Nickels, only if you marry me.”
“We are already married, Mrs. Nickels,” he teased her right back.
“Then I shall already be in the creek,” she said, and she ran up and jumped feet-first right into the creek in a big splash.
He paused to admire the creek water dripping off the edges of her pleats. He said to the cheerleader, “S-e-x-y!”
“And to think that this creek only goes up to my knees here,” she said. She looked down upon her pleats. “I’d say that the water must be dripping about six inches down to the creek.”
They both looked down into the creek. He said, “I think that I see something down there at the Page 2
bottom of the creek.
“What is it?” she asked.
“It looks like a clay pigeon,” he said. “And it looks like a whole one. But it is yellow, Gravel.”
“You told me that you two brothers only found two yellow ones that whole summer, Flanders,” she said.
“Well, here’s a third one,” he said.
“Ooo, bring it up,” said Gravel.
“Half of it is buried in the ground beneath the creek, and half of it is in the creek deep in the water, and it is right up against a big rock with its underside around it,” he said. “Gravel, I have never seen anything like this here before.”
“It must have been there since Noah’s days on the earth, Flanders,” she said.
“This one must surely be worth a lot more than a penny, Gravel,” he said.
“Pull it up and sell it for two pennies,” she said.
“I think that this one is too good to sell,” he said. “I think that I shall leave it alone right where it is.”
“Leave it down there for posterity,” she said.
“I’ll leave it there for the Millennial Reign,” he said.
“Good idea, Flanders,” she said.
Young man and young woman stood up straight now once again in these flowing waters. He paused to admire her Good Book that she held at the end of her cheerleader arm. He said, “I love it when you hold the Holy Bible, girl.”
“I love to hold the Holy Bible,” she did say. And she opened up the Scriptures and read to him most earnestly, “’For in the resurrection they neither marry, nor are given in marriage, but are as the angels of God in heaven.’ Matthew 22:30.”
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A grave spirit came upon their hearts. Somberness clouded their visages. Solemnity filled the air between them. This day would soon pass away from them forever.
Gravel spoke and said pensively, “Thank you for this walk with me, Flanders.”
And Flanders spoke and said wistfully, “Ir is what we need together, Lisa. It is what God has given us this day.”
“Psalm 118:24,” said Gravel.
And he recited this verse: “This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it.”
“We will be at ‘the lake’ soon, Flanders,” she said, looking downstream.
“’Our lake,’ Lisa,” he said, “where we got married.”
“I am afraid, Flanders,” she said.
“God is here with us,” he said.
“I know that my Redeemer lives,” said Lisa Nickels, “and He cares for me.”
“He will carry us through this valley of the shadow of…,” he said.
“What about you?” she asked. “What will you do?”
“The Holy Spirit will comfort me, Lisa,” he said. “You know what the Bible calls Him.”
“The Holy Comforter,” she said.
“Promise me that you will wait for me,” he said.
“I shall, Flanders,” she said. “I surely shall.”
In subdued silence, husband and wife went on to wade far and long down this countryside creek
through very familiar and various shorelines. This precious creek of these two waders was called “the Suamico River.” At long last they came upon an exceptionally wide and most deep span of this little creek here in wide open fields. It looked like a lake with a creek flowing in and the same creek flowing out. This was their special “lake” as they called it. Side by side, hand in hand under water, and in
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water above their bellies, Flanders and Lisa waded across the middle of this “lake” and right up to the opposite shore. Then they both climbed up out of the Suamico River and stood upon the warm sunny ground.
“Flanders,” she said, “now my cheerleader sweater is dripping creek water.” Both laughed in lightheartedness. Flanders sat down in the tall grass, himself also dripping from his clothes. He watched as his cheerleader began to wring out the water, first from the hem around the bottom of her sweater, then from the pleats around the bottom of her skirt. “At least my Bible did not get wet,” she said.
“Same here with my Bible,” he said. And sadness gave way now to gladness.
When she was done with her business, she then sat back down beside him here on the nice dry land. She set her Holy Bible on the ground to her side, brought up her knees, and hugged her legs. Flanders could see reverie in her eyes of brown as she looked out into their beloved “lake.”
Flanders said, “You wanted to tell me something important today right here, Lisa. We are here now. What do you need to say to me?”
“I had a dream this morning, Flanders,” said Gravel.
“A dream from the thoughts of your heart?” he asked.
“Maybe,” she said. “Or maybe from God.” He awaited her words. And she said, “Flanders, in this dream, I was alone in an eerie empty place. It was an open field in the middle of the countryside, and no one was with me—not even you. I was in the middle of a meadow of tall field grass. I was sitting, and the top of the grass was over my head. I stood up, and, behold, a large and wide circle of nothing but wild grass up to my shoulders, and beyond this large clearing a dense and thick forest three hundred sixty degrees around me far off in the distance. This ‘world’ was dim. I looked to be in the time of twilight. I could not tell whether it were twilight of the end of an old day or twilight at the start of a new day. I could feel this twilight inside of me just as I could see it outside of me. Yet I knew that
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Jesus was here. I looked out toward the distant woods, and I saw the great dark within, and the trees frightened me. Then I heard a divine voice call out to me from within that scary woods, ‘Lisa. Lisa.’
It was a voice as of many waters. I answered Him, ‘Here am I. Speak, Lord, for your handmaiden listens.’ He said to me, ‘Come into the forest, My daughter.’ I said to Him, ‘I am afraid, O Lord.’ He said then to me, ‘Be of good cheer; it is I; be not afraid.’ And I began my walk to the trees. When I got to the edge of this dark forest, I stopped and looked up toward the tops of the trees way high up to the first heaven. Then I prayed, ‘Your will be done, O God.’ And I stepped into the forest of twilight. Therein I heard the voice of my blessed Saviour saying unto me from within, ‘It is written, O Lisa Nickels, ”…, All men cannot receive this saying, save they to whom it is given. For there are some eunuchs, which were so born from their mother’s womb: and there are some eunuchs, which were made eunuchs of men: and there be eunuchs, which have made themselves eunuchs for the kingdom of
heaven’s sake. He that is able to receive it, let him receive it.” Matthew 19:11-12.’ I at once knew the message of this Scripture passage. And I fell upon my knees in the woods before this invisible God, and I prayed, ‘We have sinned. Forgive us. I am sorry.’ Then this Divinity said to me, ‘My daughter
Gravel, turn and behold the dawn of a new day in the Lord.’ I looked back, and I saw in the open field
just beyond this outer edge of forest the rising of the sun in the eastern sky. Then I woke up,”
“What was that dream telling you?” asked Flanders. “What did Jesus mean? What is that Scripture saying?”
Here at the “lake,” she blew nervously on her bangs; she ran her hands down her shins covered by her black tights; she took in a breath, took out a breath; then she said it, “You were never supposed to get married to me. And also I was never supposed to get married to you. These so-happy ten years we had together as husband and wife, Flanders, were never our Lord’s will for us in our lives as Christians. Jesus wanted us both to be single all of our lives. We sinned really bad against God, Flanders.”
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In thoughts out loud, Flanders Nickels said, “We started dating; we fell in love; we got married.
Neither of us prayed about it. Neither of us asked God what He thought about it. We both sinned at the wedding altar when we both said, ‘I do.’”
“You so love me, Flanders,” she said.
“And you so love me, too, Lisa,” he said.
“And this day God shall take me away from you,” she said.
“And I shall become a widower,” he said.
“Right here at the ‘lake?’” she asked to make sure.
“Right here at the ‘lake,’” he said. “According to my dream last night that I told you about.”
“Would you tell me that dream again, Flanders?” asked Gravel.
He told her again to the grief of the both of them, “You will be perfectly well all day on our last date together here. You will not feel sick or hurting in any part of your body or your mind. And you will feel the grace of God encouraging your heart. Until suddenly your time will come. And you will suddenly pass away. And yet it will not be like you die. It will be like you are raptured, instead. It will happen right here where we sit. And just like that, you will go home to Heaven, and I will be left behind down here. And we shall not meet again until the rapture comes for the whole church. You will leave me a lot like Elijah left Elisha. In that dream, I heard the Almighty say to me about your leaving me, ‘It is written, O Flanders Nickels, “And it came to pass, as they still went on, and talked, that, behold, there appeared a chariot of fire, and horses of fire, and parted them both asunder; and Elijah went up by a whirlwind into heaven.” II Kings 2:11.’”
“You told me your dream, and I found out that I am going to die today,” she said.
“And you told me your dream, and now I know why you are dying today,” he said.
“I feel like crying,” said Lisa “Gravel” Nickels.
“Can you forgive me, Lisa?” he asked.
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“I can, O Flanders, and I do,” she cried out. “Can you forgive me, Flanders?”
“I surely do, Lisa,” he said. “I love you.”
“And I love you, too,” she said. She leaned her head upon his shoulder and began to weep. He held her around her shoulders and comforted her in his arms.
Seeking happy memories in his heart, Flanders remembered in his thoughts that day he and Gravel had first met: It was at a store that was a haven for his writing supplies as a short story writer. This most cherished office supply store was his home away from home. And no other store or shop had more a hold on his heart in all of his young life that this store had. It was called “Racine’s Office Supply” and it was in the big city of Green Bay. This beloved little shop had everything—a bell over the door, an old creaking floor of wood, a very high ceiling, aisles that were both random and narrow, and a horn of plenty for any short story writer who loved to write for God as a favorite hobby. Here Flanders bought pencils and erasers and pads of yellow paper and typing paper and typewriter ribbons and typewriter correction tape spools and manila filing folders and large yellow envelopes and report covers and even a paper punch. He was picking out a small lot of colored pencil cap erasers from a little box on the shelf, when he heard the floor creaking behind him. Turning around to see, he saw another customer here at the same time. It was a young woman, her back turned toward him, a girl of sudden mystery and mystique. He could see the back of her head, and it was angelic in allure. In his lonely man’s heart, he wondered whether this woman were as beautiful in her front as she was in her back. He heard her voice speak to the merchant, “Sir, I was wondering if you have any drawing pencils
here in your nice little shop.” Her voice resonated with feminine undertones. The store merchant said to her,”Good, kind miss, follow me, and I can show you our pencil section. We have pencils of all numbers of soft lead, medium lead, and hard lead. Well indeed did Flanders know this pencil section the best of all the sections of Racine’s Office Supply! Her back still facing him, he saw her follow the merchant to the pencils. She spoke again, saying, “Ooo, Dixon Ticonderogas! The very best pencils,
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sir!” How many times had Flanders said the very same thing to his good friend the store merchant! She felt the same way that Flanders felt about that name brand. Then she said to the shop keeper, “I draw things. I’m a drawer in my spare time.” Still she did not turn her face around. She had to be an angel. Surely she was a foxy lady. No other woman could be as beautiful as she must be. Then the good merchant told her about Flanders, saying to her, “That’s good to hear, miss. My other customer here writes things. He is a writer in his spare time.” “A writer?” she asked. “I like that!” And she turned her face to look for this stranger to her who wrote stories. And Flanders Nickels could now see her face. And for him it was falling head-over-heels in love with a dream-girl at first sight! He saw this dream-girl looking at him, smiling at him, and speaking words to him, “Are you the good writer, sir?”
“I write short stories,” he heard his tongue say to her. “Are you the good artist, miss?”
“I sketch drawings, sir,” she did say, his ears hearing her.
“You sketch drawings,” he said.
“I make drawings for Jesus,” she said.
“I write stories for Jesus,” he said.
“Are you a born-again Christian, sir?” she asked.
“That I am,” he said. “I am saved by the blood of the Lamb.” Then he asked, “You, too?”
“That I surely am,” she said. “I have been a born-again believer now for some time. I, too, have Jesus as my personal Saviour.”
“We are both saved,” he said.
‘Yes, we are,” she said.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“I am ‘Lisa,’” she said. “Everybody calls me, ‘Gravel,’”
“Well, Lisa…or should I say,’Gravel,’” he said. “I am ‘Flanders.’”
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“Flanders, you are kind of cute, if it’s okay for a Christian girl to say that to a Christian guy,” she went and said to him.
“This Christian guy thinks that it is very much okay for a Christian girl to say that to him,” said
Flanders.
“I never said anything like that before to a fellow—just like that all of a sudden, that is, Flanders,” said Gravel.
“Believe me, Gravel, this fellow never heard a gal go and say anything like that to him before,” confessed Flanders Nickels.
“Well, Flanders, what do you think” she asked.
“What I think, Gravel, now that you ask, is that you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,” he dared tell her all.
“Really, Flanders?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he said, nodding his head. “That is so.”
“Well, then, if you feel that way about me, Flanders, then I can also say all to you and tell you that you are the most handsome man I have ever seen in my life,” she confessed now.
“Is that really so, Gravel?” he asked.
She nodded her foxy head and asked again, “Well, Flanders, what do you think?”
And he said, “What I think, Gravel, is that we should go out on a date as boyfriend-and-girlfriend-in-Christ.”
“I’d like that so very much, Flanders,” she said.
“Church this Sunday or prayer-meeting together you and I at my place or Bible-study together you and I at your place?” he asked.
“Oh, all three, Flanders!” she quickly gave answer. “And then after that, you can show me your stories and your pencils, and I can show you my drawings and my pencils!”
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“It’s a date for us then, Gravel,” he said.
“A date it is for us, Flanders,” she said.
“Maranatha, Lisa,” said Flanders Nickels.
“Maranatha, Flanders,” said Gravel.
Just then Flanders heard her speak at his side and say, “At least I am going to Heaven and not to Hell this day.” Flanders came back to this current world of “lake” and hill of grass and his loved one’s imminent death. Gravel spoke again, “Flanders, would you like to hear my story again of how I found Christ my Saviour?”
“I need to hear it again now, Gravel,” he said.
“Our Lord used a good man of our church to lead me to salvation,” she began. “His name was ‘Apollo,’ and he was my Sunday School teacher for the teen class.”
“Apollo…your first crush, Lisa,” Flanders said.
“Puppy love. I was just barely fifteen years old,” she said. “He was quite a hunk. Apollo was single, very godly, and knew everything about the Bible, and loved Jesus faithfully. I, on the other hand, was yet lost in my sins, and I was a silly girl, and I wanted to get Apollo to look at me. Knowing that he was really into God and hoping to make him like me as I liked him, I went and drew a picture of myself looking both like a spiritual girl and also like a desirable girl at the same time. Now what I drew with paper and pencil, Flanders, was a sketch of myself on my knees in prayer with my head bowed and my eyes closed and my hands folded—myself dressed in a women’s black one-piece swimsuit! That would surely make lonely Apollo want me to be his girlfriend. Well, Flanders, I worked up my courage, and, after Sunday School finished, I came up to him and showed him that. I did not ask him out. I assumed that that was implied in the giving of the sketch. I waited for him to ask me out. But you know what good Apollo went and said to me after he admired this for a long time,
Flanders.”
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“He said, ‘Jesus saves,’” replied Flanders.
“He missed the whole point of my sultry sketch, Flanders,” said Gravel. “Looking back later, I think that he saw myself in this drawing praying for salvation, and I meant it to be myself just praying,
because I wanted to be like Apollo.”
“But you were not disappointed long after he said, ‘Jesus saves,’” said Flanders.
“Yeah. You’re so right. And that was because I knew that he approved of my sketch and because I could tell from his long time spent looking at it before he said anything that he thought I was kind of a foxy girl in that swimsuit,” said Lisa.
“And I’d bet also because hardly any time later you yourself prayed and found salvation right there at church in your Sunday School dress, thanks to your would-be ‘boyfriend,’” said Flanders.
“Cute Apollo only had to share three Bible verses with me and the saving Gospel and then the question, ‘Do you want Jesus to save you?’ and, bang, I was ready to become born again,” said Gravel in reminiscing. And she quickly went on to tell Flanders here in the grassy bank all about it again to his delight: “He began by opening up his Holy Bible to John 10:9 and reading to me, ‘I am the door: by me if any man enter it, he shall be saved, and shall go in and out, and find pasture.’ He then explained this verse to me and said, ‘For you to be able to go through the gates into Heaven, to walk through Heaven’s door, you must do so through Jesus Christ, the Saviour of the world.’ Then he turned in his Bible to John 11:25, and he read this to me, ‘Jesus said unto her, I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live:’ And he taught the meaning of this verse also to me, saying, ‘If you believe in Jesus the Lord, when your turn comes to die, after, you will be alive, living forever in Heaven.’ And the last verse he told me about was John 14:6. He found this in his Bible and read this to me as well, ‘Jesus saith unto him, I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me.’ And handsome Apollo preached this verse to my eager ears, too, saying, ‘This tells us, Gravel, that Jesus is the only way to Heaven and that the only way to come
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to God the Father is through God the Son, Who is Jesus.’ Then my Sunday School teacher asked me, ‘Lisa, do you know what the Gospel is?’ I replied that I heard him talk about it lots, but that I had forgotten. Yet he patiently went on to remind me what the Gospel said, now that I was listening, declaring unto me, “Jesus died for our sins on the cross, and He rose again the third day.’ Now that I had been alone with Apollo all this while and not one of some in the official class, I found myself avidly attentive to his Bible teaching this time. And I remember now with you, Flanders, how I was thinking to myself that morning: If Apollo says this, then it must be true. And yet all that was taking place here after class with Apollo was much more. What was happening was, that I became aware of where I was going after I died, and what was going to happen to my soul, and where I was going to spend eternity. Nay, indeed the Holy Ghost was working on me in addition to handsome Apollo. And I became convicted of my sins, and I saw my need for a personal Saviour. I needed Jesus to save my soul right now and not a moment later. And then good and godly Apollo asked me, Flanders, ‘Lisa, do you want Jesus to save you right now?’ I quickly began nodding my head and saying, ‘Yes!’ over and over again. He then said, ‘Let us pray.’ And Apollo led me line-by-line through the prayer that got me saved. He called it ‘the sinners’ prayer.’ All I had to do was to ask Jesus to save my soul, and Jesus saved my soul! And now, here I am, Flanders, born again now for over fifteen years, and so on my way to Heaven.”
“Amen! Amen!” said Flanders here at the “lake.” Then he asked, “But what did he do with the drawing?”
“Why, he asked if he could keep it,” said Gravel. “And I gladly said to him, ‘I drew it just for you, Apollo.’ And he thanked me and put it in his Bible, right in the middle of the book of John, from where he had read those three great verses to me. I was flattered. He was grateful. Of course right then it dawned on me that I was not meant to be Apollo’s girlfriend and that he did not want to go out with me. And I felt all right about that. I had just become a born-again Christian. What could ever
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compare to that? “
“Even our death valley that we have to endure this day for you, Lisa, will have a happy ending, thanks to that Apollo,” said Flanders.
“I who shall be taken from you soon, Flanders, will be instantly in Heaven,” said Gravel, encouraged. “But you, Flanders, who shall be left, will be alone.”
“I know that we shall be together again, Lisa, when it comes my turn to leave this life down here,” said Flanders.
“I’m still a little afraid, though, nonetheless,” said Gravel. “What will it be like to take my last breath?”
“Our good Pastor says that dying, for a Christian, is like going to sleep, and waking up in Heaven, Lisa,” he said.
“The great blessings of everlasting life, O Flanders,” said Lisa “Gravel” Nickels. “I got to tell the happy story again of how I got saved. Could I hear the happy story again of how you got saved?”
“It would be both my pleasure and my privilege, milady,” he said. And he gave the testimony of his salvation: “I was by myself at a park not far from my house. I was both a teenager and a man
at eighteen years of age. I was lying in the short green grass, on a hill, and looking up at the sky and watching the big white clouds slowly changing. Suddenly I saw a face looking down upon me, the face
of a comely young woman with most unusual hair of looping coils of spirals going down the sides of her head like princesses or queens of Medieval days. I quickly sat up and this woman was standing right beside me. Even her dress was Medieval style with much abundant red fabric. The first thing I found myself asking her was, ‘Are you from the Middle Ages, ma’am?’ And she said, ‘No sir. I belong to the Society for Creative Anachronism. We are meeting today here at this park in a little while, off in picnic shelter on the other end. I just happened to see you here, and I am a born-again believer, and I love to win souls.’ ‘You win souls?’ I asked, not understanding. ‘I am a soul-winner. O good sir,
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for Christ most of all,’ she said. I stood up. She said, ‘My name is “Athena,”’ and she curtseyed in her
old-time red dress. I said, ‘My name is “Flanders,”’ and I bowed in my twentieth century shirt and pants. Then she went ahead and right out asked me, ‘Flanders, do you know Jesus Christ?’ I thought for a moment, then said, ‘No, no, Athena. I do not. What I do, and what I believe, in my religion, is that one must worship God the Father only—and not worship the Son at all.’ And what she said to that,
Gravel was, ‘Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.’ I was offended–you can bet on that, Lisa–when she went and said that to me. And I kind of snapped at her, ‘What’s wrong with my religion?’ And she asked me,
‘Would you like to hear what God says about your religion?’ and she showed me a little red pocket book. She then said, ‘This is my New Testament.’ I said, ‘I’m not sure that I would like that.’’ But she said, ‘If you won’t do it for God, would you do it for me?’ She was asking me to hear her read from her Bible. She could tell somehow that I found her beguilingly attractive. A young man in modern America does not have a comely Middle Ages European woman come up to him and talk to him every day. I kind of wanted her to tell me about her Bible, even though I did not like the Bible. And I nodded my head and acquiesced to her Scripture-reading to me. And she said, her little red Book before her eyes, ‘It is written, “Who is a liar but he that denieth that Jesus is the Christ? He is antichrist, that denieth the Father and the Son. Whosoever denieth the Son, the same hath not the Father: [but] he that acknowledgeth the Son hath the Father also.” I John 2::22-23.’ I never heard Words like that before that so disagreed with my so-sure religion. I asked her, ‘How can that be?’ And she said in ready answer, ‘How can God lie?’ I thought hard and held on to my personal theology, and I challenged her Christianity by telling her in the sincerity of my heart, ‘But, Athena, it was God the Father Himself Who told me not to worship Jesus as the Son of God. Whom do you think I will believe—you or Him?’ Yet she said, ‘The true Heavenly Father would never say anything that contradicts the Scriptures. I would bet that it was a devil who told you that, Flanders.’ I then asked, ‘Athena, is there another Scripture somewhere you might know of that says the same thing that you
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have just read to me?’ ‘Uh huh,’ she said to me, and she again opened up God’s Word to me: ‘It is written, O Flanders, “And we have seen and do testify that the Father sent the Son to be the Saviour of the world. Whosoever shall confess that Jesus is the Son of God, God dwelleth in him, and he in God.”
I John 4:14-15.’ I then asked her, ‘Athena, are you saying that this Son is the way to Heaven?’ And she said, ‘Oh, Flanders, this Son is the only way to Heaven.’ I said, ‘But I already have my way to get There.’ And she said, ‘Do tell me your way to get to Heaven, Flanders.’ I told her, ‘I believe in earning my way There.’ She asked not without some disdain, ‘Tell me how you are earning Heaven, Flanders.’ And I told her my religion of those days, ‘I’m learning to tip the balances of good deeds and
bad deeds in my favor. You see, Athena, I am fighting a war against myself. I always seem to get mad at the Lord when things go wrong, and then I end up yelling at God, and I end up saying curse words in my temper. I’ve really got to stop doing that. I don’t want to have to end up in Hell because of that. I’m bad, Athena. But I so love to thank God, though, when things go right. I stop and thank God for every cup of coffee and every cup of tea I have to drink each time I have it, Athena. In those times I am good. So to keep from losing my place in Heaven, I am learning to curse God less and to thank God more.’ She asked, ‘Flanders, how are you doing in this great war?’ I thought for a long while, and I said, ‘I’m not doing very well in my great war. I had a bad day of typing last night, and I unleashed a terrible tirade against God the Father, and He heard me, and I think that I lost my salvation again. I have to work hard to get it back again, Athena. More praise, less murmuring—that’s the key for me.’
But do you know what she said to me then?”
“I know. I know,” said Lisa Nickels here at the “lake,” She had heard her husband give the testimony of his salvation many times, and she loved to hear it every time. And Lisa said, “It was right then when pretty Athena asked you, ‘Flanders, if it were up to you to earn Heaven, then why did Jesus go to the cross?’
“My little religion had no answer to that,” said Flanders.
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“And then she told you the kicker,” said Gravel. “Ephesians 2:8-9.”
“Athena then recited to me, ‘It is written, O Flanders, “For by grace are ye saved through faith; and not that of yourselves: it is the gift of God: Not of works, lest any man should boast.” Ephesians 2:8-9,’” said Flanders.
“And you found out the truth about getting to Heaven,” said Gravel
“Yes, I found out that getting to Heaven is all completely free. The true Son of God made it free for me. The Lord Jesus made salvation to be accepted only by grace through faith. And I and no man can earn Heaven by way of balances. Jesus saves. I quickly confessed all of that to the Medieval Christian woman. And then I asked, ‘Does saying all of that to you save my soul, Athena?’ And she said, ‘Flanders, saying all of that to God will save your soul.’ I asked, ‘Do you mean that if I pray to God and ask Him to save my soul, that then He will save my soul?’ And Athena nodded her head and said, ‘Yes, Flanders. Do go ahead and ask for the free gift of eternal life right now, before the Devil says to you, “Not now. Later.” And I prayed to God the Father for my own so great salvation, and this time I ended my prayer with the words, ‘In Jesus’s name. Amen.’ for my first time. And when my prayer was done, I, too, was saved, just like Athena. Right after that, she said to me, “And do not be afraid anymore that you can sin and lose your salvation, Flanders. Being human, you will trip up in your new walk with Christ and indeed sin. But no sin you do will take away this salvation that Jesus has given you this day. Once you’re saved, you’re always saved. We Christians call that “the eternal security of the believer.” Ever rest in this truth now for the rest of your life.’ That, as you know, Lisa, is all about how I became born again,” said Flanders Nickels.
“Praise Jesus for eternal life,” said Lisa Nickels. “Praise Christ for good outspoken Athena.”
Then Lisa asked, “What ever became of her, Flanders?”
“God called her not long later to write hymns for Him,” said Flanders. “And we lost touch with each other.”
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“A Society for Creative Anachronism woman like her could make your twentieth century girlfriend jealous, Flanders,” teased Gravel.
“She could speak the English as it was spoken in the Middle Ages,” Flanders bragged on Athena. “That kind of thing tempts a man, you know.”
“I’m jealous,” said Gravel.
“I love it when I have two women fighting over me,” said Flanders.
“Especially when five hundred years separate your two women, Flanders.” flirted Lisa.
“I think that I will stay faithful to the ‘younger woman,’” flirted Flanders back.
“That is a good choice,” said Lisa. And he kissed her on the nose. And then they kissed each other on the lips. And they hugged where they sat.
Then Flanders said, “I see some papers you have in your Bible, Lisa.”
“Those are your favorite two drawings of mine, Flanders,” said Gravel. “I wanted to give them to you here before I go Up.”
“Ah, Gravel. Daniel 8:5 and Daniel 10:13,” he said. “May I look upon them again right now?”
“I’d like you to do that,” she said. “A wife loves to hear her husband glorify God when he looks upon her sketches.” She had sketched these two before she and Flanders had gotten married. She then pulled out her two papers and let Flanders admire them and say and think good things about her talent and praise to the God Who had given her her talent.
This one was the first of the two:
“And as I was considering, behold, an he goat
came from the west on the face of the whole
earth, and touched not the ground: and the goat
had a notable horn between his eyes.”
–Daniel 8:5
Alexander the Great—Emperor of Greece
Herein in this sketch was a juggernaut of a goat, its front legs stretched forward and its hind legs
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stretched backward in a fleet supernatural sprint. It was a brown goat with black speckles and spots and patches. It was running from west to east, here from left to right. It was running in a charge. Indeed its hooves were a good half a foot above the surface of the earth. The ground that it was running above was of dry grass-less earth with sundry little scattered stones and little dunes of dry sand. Coming out of the back of its head were a pair of gray horns. And coming out of the front of its head was one big horn, from just above its eyes and between. This big horn was black, twelve inches long, two inches in diameter at the base, and pointed and sharp at its tip. This most notable horn indeed was even more strong than this goat was fast. And this fell horn was lowered in assault. Above it and below it was an aura of great light. This goat’s eyes gleamed yellow in its countenance. Its nostrils were breathing in air and breathing out air. Its mouth was closed in the fierceness of attack. Its tail was
held up at a forty-five degree angle to its back end. Its hooves were burnished, shiny black, and gleamed in reflection of sunlight. Speed lines of great wind followed this charging goat. Far behind it where it was running was a running cheetah, the world’s fastest land animal, falling quickly way behind
this fierce goat. Flying above this goat was a chimney swift, the world’s fastest animal of the air, and this chimney swift was gradually falling behind this fast goat in its flight. This was the first of Gravel’s
two drawings here of Bible verses.
And this one was the second of the two:
“But the prince of the kingdom of Persia
withstood me one and twenty days: but, lo,
Michael, one of the chief princes, came to
help me; and I remained there with the kings
of Persia.”
–Daniel 10:13
Angelic warfare in high places
And herein in this sketch was the battle of good and evil among the demons and the angels. Satan’s fallen angels—the principalities and the powers—were fighting spiritual warfare against God’s loyal
angels—the cherubim and the seraphim. In this revelation from God to His prophet Daniel was opened
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up the invisible wars unseen by mortal men. And Daniel here, the man greatly beloved of God, was caught in the middle of this great wrestling among the angels. In this drawing, the evil angels were seen as winged and horned and serpentine angels, and the good angels were seen as winged and crowned and personified angels. One could see the spirit of the Devil in the ugly faces of the demons.
One could see the Spirit of the Lord in the handsome faces of the angels of God. As these spirit creatures did wrestle there was a tornado upon the ground, and there was a waterspout upon the water,
and there was hail and sleet in the sky. Behold, there stood Michael, God’s most powerful good angel.
He was dressed in a cloud. He had a rainbow on his head. His face looked like the sun. His legs looked like columns of fire. He had his right foot in the sea, and he had his left foot on the earth. And he spoke in this drawing with the penciled-in words, “God rebuke you, ye demons!” In this drawing, the demons were retreating, defeat in battle upon their hellish faces; and the angels were advancing, victory in battle upon their heavenly faces. This was the second of Gravel’s two drawings here of Bible verses.
These two Scripture sketches were the last two that Lisa had drawn before she married Flanders. After she became Flanders’s wife, she quit drawing pictures for God. And her conscience was pricked; but she let her conscience become seared, and she no longer listened to that still small voice.
Here at the “lake” of the little creek, Gravel said, “I see two pencils in your shirt pocket, Flanders. Those are not your Bible-reading pencils, are they?” Flanders loved his Bible studies every day.
He said, “No, Lisa, they are my old-time writing pencils.”
“I remember our dating days before we got married. You still wrote stories for a while then,” she said.
He took out his two writing pencils from his shirt pocket. He had brought them with him on
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this last date. “Number four lead,” he said. “Great for writing. The lead stays sharp. It doesn’t smear.
It does not need a lot of resharpening. Good hard lead.” Indeed it was these Dixon Ticonderoga number four lead pencils such as these that was in his heart the very symbol of his old time writing. And these two with him now, taken out of storage, were most familiarly scratched throughout their yellow paint. Some writers may bite their pencils. But the writer Flanders instead scratched upon them with his fingernails. He remembered now, and he laughed.
Understanding his laughter, Lisa laughed also with him and said, “My husband the man who files away at his pencils.” He did the same thing with his Bible study underlining pencils, which were number two lead pencils.
As Flanders relived his old writing life, he remembered his complement to his pencils—his legal pad of yellow wide-ruled paper. And he remembered his pencil cap erasers and his unmounted metal pencil sharpener and his writing references–his collegiate dictionary and his King James Bible and his thesaurus and his concordance. All of these was for his handwritten version of his stories, and these handwritten stories were only temporary in their illegibility and roughness and tentative form. The versions which were forever were his typewritten versions of these same stories. Upon typing these stories, the writer Flanders rendered these same stories now quite legible and smoothed out and fluent, making wise choices in changing the story as he typed it up, taking out the deadwood and keeping the relevant and improving the writing style into the story’s final version. In these typed stories, which he had had in storage these past ten years of marriage, he had used much his electronic typewriter and his much typing paper and disposable carbon ribbons and correction tape spools. Both in his handwritten versions and in his typewritten versions, Flanders took his time to do the best he could do at that point in his short story. Before each writing session every time, Flanders had remembered to pray, “Lord, help me to do the best that I can do to glorify Your Son.” In that way, God did guide Flanders’s writing for God’s own glory. And because Flanders did the best that he could do
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in each writing session, he was truly satisfied spiritually when he was done for the night. Were he to write hastily or lazily, it would have been no fun for him. Rising to the challenge of good writing had been truly fulfilling for him. Each of these many short stories were in storage in his wooden filing cabinet, individually stored in its own yellow envelope in turn in its own manila filing folder, all in chronological order of when it was written. His Christian short story plots were of two types—one type, where a lost soul got saved; and the other type, where a Christian had his prayer answered by God. His genre was “religious/inspirational, and they were both fiction and fantasy. None were non-fiction. Writing these many works made him dream of fantasy worlds of plot and conflict as he wrote
thus. He had hoped that someday God might use his stories to save lost souls or to edify and build up in the faith those who were already saved. Indeed none of these stories had yet been published, but maybe God could publish them after Flanders was raptured up and gone from the Earth. But then his love—“Gravel—The Fox”–came into his life; they got married; his story-writing ceased.
With a sigh, Flanders turned to look foxy Gravel in her beautiful face beside him. He put the former writing pencils back into his shirt pocket. He put his hand to his other shirt pocket. Yes, it was still there, intact and not spilled over. He said, “Lisa, I’ve got something else in my other shirt pocket.
It’s for you to look at now on our last day of days.”
“What is it?” she asked.
“Promise me that you will take it up with you to Heaven today,” he said.
“I promise,” she said.
And he pulled it out of his shirt pocket and held it before her. Her brown eyes lit up with a sparkling and a magic. It was a little ceramic vase full of round toothpicks. “I have not used one of these toothpicks; they are too beautiful to use on my dirty teeth; this is sacred to me.”
“You remembered, Flanders,” Lisa Nickels sang out.
“Our first anniversary, Gravel,” he said. “I have kept them safe in my safe deposit box at our
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bank all our nine years together since. I took it out of the bank to give back to you today.”
“I never knew how much this meant to you, Flanders,” she said.
“It was any husband’s best first anniversary present from any wife, Lisa,” he told her.
“I had no idea,” she said.
“The most beautiful woman in the world bought this vase of toothpicks for me. That is why it is so near and dear to me, Gravel,” he said. Back in their early years of marriage, money was scarce for them. They had to rest upon God’s grace to get by. And despite their poverty, Gravel had saved enough money to buy him this special little prize for a present to him on their first anniversary. He himself had treated her to a most sumptuous frog leg dinner for a present to her on this same first anniversary. She loved frog legs, but he loved this little vase of toothpicks even more so. Here in the grass of hill by the creek, Flanders went on to say to her, “Lisa, you are even more beautiful now than you were then.” She reached out her hands; he handed her that little receptacle of toothpicks; and she held it against her breasts in hug.
“You remembered, Flanders,” she sang out in ardor.
“I shall ever remember, Lisa,” he said.
Then staid thoughts came upon her countenance. A mute silence passed between them for a moment. And she said, “Flanders, before I leave you, I need to share with you a very important Bible verse passage that I discovered and tried to ignore. It is like our story and why we are here now.
It is a story of us. It says what we were supposed to be in the Lord in His will and what we willingly chose to be in the Lord against His will.” He knew. He knew. God had wanted them to be single; they had chosen to disobey God and get married.
“A story of our story, Gravel,” he summed up.
“A tale of our tale, you could say, Flanders,” said Lisa Nickels.
“’The Tale of the Tale,’ capital letters,” he added.
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“The Tale of the Tale, capital letters,” she agreed. And she turned to this Tale of the Tale that she had discovered in the Holy Bible, and she read it to her beloved husband, “Thus is it written: ‘But
I would have you without carefulness. He that is unmarried careth for the things that belong to the Lord, how he may please the Lord: But he that is married careth for the things that are of the world, how he may please his wife. There is difference also between a wife and a virgin. The unmarried woman careth for the things of the Lord, that she may be holy both in body and in spirit: but she that is married careth for the things of the world, how she may please her husband. And this I speak for your own profit; not that I may cast a snare upon you, but for that which is comely, and that ye may attend upon the Lord without distraction.’ I Corinthians 7:32-35.”
“I did sin when I got married and quit writing my stories and did backslide in my writing ministry,” confessed Flanders Arckery Nickels.
“And I did sin when I got married and quit sketching my artwork and did backslide on my drawing ministry,” confessed Lisa “Gravel” Nickels.
“Look up, Gravel. The little cloud above us is turning green,” said Flanders.
“My time is imminent, Flanders,” she said.
“This air right about us is suddenly very cold,” said Flanders.
“I am about to be taken up to Heaven,” she said, standing up now. He stood up beside her.
“I see a dark cloud coming slowly down here upon us,” he said.
“It is the mighty whirlwind of the Lord,” she said, looking up toward God’s throne Above. She motioned Flanders to back up a space for his own safety. Gravel then held up before Flanders that iconic little vase of toothpicks. She then said in joy of the Lord, “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.” And, lo, that little tornado descended upon beloved Gravel the Fox, grabbed a hold upon her with the power of God, and ascended back up to Heaven, taking her to Jesus with it. And, behold, as Flanders watched, the mighty whirlwind went back up to the sky just as it had come down from the sky. And all
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was suddenly quiet, and Flanders was strangely alone without Gravel, and Flanders was comfortingly alone with the Holy Spirit of God. It was done. Gravel was taken from him. Now he would resume writing fantasy short stories for Jesus Christ.
Flanders looked up toward Heaven for a long and wistful while. She was not coming back to him down here. But when the rapture of the church would come for all the believers, he was going to go to her Up There. Flanders then looked away from Glory and looked down upon the Earth where last her feet had been. There upon the ground was her cherished King James Version Bible. He picked it up. A still small voice of Goodness spoke in his head in encouragement for his new life, “Look up I Corinthians 7:7-8, my son.” Flanders obeyed and searched the Scriptures for I Corinthians 7:7-8, and he read it in this divine silence: “For I would that all men were even as I myself. But every man hath his proper gift of God, one after this manner, and another after that. I say therefore to the unmarried and widows, It is good for them if they abide even as I.”
With Holy Ghost wisdom, Flanders summed up this verse, saying up to God, “Being single is a gift.”
Having prayed this thus, Flanders then walked back home to write a story. It would be the renaissance of his writing ministry for the rest of his life for God. And the name of the short story would be, “The Tale of the Tale.”
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