Nanowrimo 2022

Day Break

American Kingdom: Day 22

Previous chapter

I drank a bottle of water, laid my head on my pillow and was instantly asleep.

With the first stirrings of the birds outside, I arose, found my way to the showers, and I was ready with the first chime of morning quiet: clean, pure, and dressed in my camos for the day ahead.

A beautiful day outside, the sky still dark but clear, the air fresh and cool. I glanced at “our” bench under the trees. Empty.

Bible in hand, I rapped quietly on Hazel’s door. No response. I peeked inside and the sound of contented, regular breathing greeted me.

With the curtains opened, she was like a baby, innocently slumbering, curled up, mouth slightly open, hair tousled.

Not entirely like a baby. The sheets had been tumbled down enough to reveal that her sleeping form was far more womanly than the average infant and she didn’t bother with sleeping attire.

Just like me.

I leaned over to close the curtains again — I’d have my quiet time alone in my room — when she opened her eyes.

“Oh, Molly, was that the chime for quiet? I was having such a dream.”

She paused. “And you were in it.”

“Oh, all good, I hope?”

“You were riding a bike through the streets of Heaven, singing songs about all the beautiful buildings and statues.”

“Well, that was pretty much my regular job until three days ago. You must have been reading my mind.”

“Hey Molly, I want to talk some more. Is that okay?”

“Sure. Just keep it quiet, okay?” I nodded my head to the wall separating us from Annie’s room.

She got up, the essence of femininity in a way I could never achieve in my more angular frame, slipped on a tracksuit and sat down in one of the two chairs.

“Can I just have a minute of prayer?” I asked. Kind of rude to talk about the Lord — if that’s what we were going to do — without saying good morning, at least.

She nodded and bowed her head.

I said hello, gave thanks for the beautiful morning, the refreshing sleep and asked for guidance in the day ahead. Anything else I need to say, I’ll raise my hand, okay?

And nothing more for a few seconds, letting my thoughts and mind come to rest. Amen.

“Molly,” Hazel said, opening her eyes and looking into mine. “Remember what we were talking about last night?”

“Jesus being in our heart and the hearts of everyone. Right here. Right now.”

“Have you thought about that much?”

“Just about every spare moment. It feels right to me, Hazel.”

“Me too. Our Lord, close as can be, close to our hearts, full of love. He gives me such comfort!”

“Ok. Here’s what’s bothering me. How does He speak to you?”

I considered this. I wasn’t too sure He used words. Sometimes He was silent, sometimes His message was clear as day.

“He doesn’t use words, well not much, but I know when he says something to me because my heart lifts up and the world is a brighter place, just for a moment. It’s right in a way I can’t put into words.”

“Mmmm, do you hear words in your mind? Chattering, offering commentary?”

“All the time, stream of consciousness babbling, yes, take the last piece of pie, oooh look at that fat woman, geez I’m tired, I wonder if I can lift these weights, what a hunky guy I wonder if he’d nibble my nipples, come on Nathan just ask, I won’t say no…”

“Molly!”

Ooops.

Someone rapped on the wall and we could hear Oscar’s voice. “Hey you two, it’s quiet time!”

We looked into each other’s eyes. Jesus looked out and waggled his finger. No criticism, be glad for the joy of others, rest in the moment.

“I have the same. I think everyone does. It can’t be Jesus talking to me because he wouldn’t say such nonsense.”

“Yes,” I said. “Sometimes my mind comes up with things that are inappropriate or flat-out wrong. The clerk gives me too much change and the voice suggests that I should just walk out and buy a Hersheys with the extra money because I like chocolate. Jesus wouldn’t tell me to steal.”

“Do you think it’s the Devil?”

“So we have Jesus living in our hearts and Satan living in our minds?”

“People often claim that the Devil made them do something bad. If our inner voice is telling us to do bad things then who else could it be?”

I thought about this. “Hazel, supposing I have lustful thoughts about a certain man who presses my buttons and I go on to marry him and have children and live a long and faithful life, going to church and doing good things all my life, then those lustful thoughts directing me toward a loving Christian man, are they sinful in some way?”

“Good grief, girl! I can’t look into the future! What if you have the same thoughts about a total snake who is only interested in well, biting your bits, and then runs off with an Uber driver or something? You could look back in hindsight and say it was evil led you astray.”

“Ok, well let’s leave it there. The voice of the mind is a foolish commentary, neither divine nor evil, just a sort of social media chatter that it would be best to disregard entirely.”

“And my question?”

“Jesus doesn’t talk to me in words. I have to go look for His wisdom but I know when I find it what He will say. And it’s always something good, useful, uplifting. It must be Jesus because I couldn’t come up with anything as perfect by myself.”

“Well then, what does Jesus — as distinct from the chattering commentary of your mind — say about Nathan?”

I didn’t really need to fall still and look into my heart. My feelings about Nathan were located in other organs of my body, organs not well known for divine, uplifting, or rational thought.

I could see Jesus shaking his head and saying that I could do better than be sucked in again. Hmm, poor choice of words there, Your Absent Majesty.

“I think that if I listen to Our Heavenly King — as represented in my heart — that Nathan is going to be nothing more than a friend. Unless I get overwhelmed and outvoted by my hormones, and that’s always on the cards, Hazel.”

“Thanks, Molly. That’s all I ask, really. If you are listening to anybody in your secret heart, then it’s best that it be the best possible advice.”

Okay. We’d probably explored that important topic enough for the moment. Next topic was something unashamedly not divine or uplifting or rational.

“It’s none of my business, Hazel, but you ask your subconscious as a quick little question for me?”

“Sure, Molly. For you, anything.”

“Right. What did you hear last night through the wall” — I nodded toward Annie’s room — “while you were dreaming of me?”

Next chapter:

The whole story:

Notes

Must be the season of viruses. I had a cold all last week and had just chased away the final sniffle when I got another, even worse.

RAT test negative, thank the Lord, but I’d rather not be feeling rundown and crappy when I’m trying to krank out a couple of thousand words a day.

The above might be just two women discussing the voices in their heads but its important for two reasons. Annie and Oscar hooking up — what did you expect when I left them drinking spirits in the club, just they and a bored bartender? — is a significant plot point in this book though we won’t learn its significance until later.

Secondly, the discussion on voices is important. In our lives, possibly the most important thing we’ll ever learn.

Don’t trust your thoughts.

The mind comes up with all sorts of commentary and the greater part of wisdom is ignoring the chatter. If there is anything of value in it, it is pure coincidence.

We all know people who listen to their thoughts. Former President Trump is possibly the most visible example. Love him or hate him, you have to admit he comes out with a lot of wacko stuff. All that nonsense about crowd sizes. Maybe from his angle taking the oath the crowds looked extensive but from a better viewpoint they were clearly lacking. Right from the start the closest members of his team had to deal with that distraction, the first step on a long path of chaos and deception.

The exact last thing you want when governing a superpower.

The same applies to governing the smallest human unit: a single individual. Focus, reason, truth, calm, acceptance: these are things that help us find a clear way through life. Dropping a few dollars on lottery tickets every day because the mind’s voice says that this will be the big one is a fool’s game. Entertaining, surely, and fun to dream of what you might do with all that money but ultimately you are just handing over money to the lottery company for no tangible reward.

Even if you do win a major prize, chances are that all that wealth will destroy you rather than lift you up. Two years down the track, the money’s gone, all your friends have left you, and you are alone in rehab with letters from lawyers and accountants and the IRS rolling in. Who needs that?

Nervertheless, there is treasure to be found within. I haven’t put the words on Molly’s lips — yet — but asking yourself “What Would Jesus Do” is a far better guide than all the entertaining chatter your mind comes up with to distract you.

If you are not a Christian, ask what would a wise person do, and the effect will be the same. You discover a wise and moral leader within yourself. Listen to them and consider their advice carefully.

And finally, I barely touch on it here but finding ways to still the chatter of the mind and to find calm and quiet is priceless. Some do it through meditation, or mindfulness, or just silent prayer. Focus the attention on something: a mantra, the breathing, the most distant of sounds, the everyday sensations of the body and let the monkey mind grow weary and hunt elsewhere for an audience.

This is where the subconscious does its work. You don’t have to consciously think about solving a problem; merely understanding it is enough. Your otherwise idle brain cells will think about it for you and come up with a solution. I often find that my best thinking happens in the shower when all the pieces of a puzzle fall into place.

And this is why I need uninterrupted time to see the next steps in the journey. Just writing writing writing whatever thoughts my mind throws up is not enough. That makes for a boring book because the reader can easily stay in step with the writer, even jumping ahead if the steps are too predictable. I need ways to come up with surprises for the reader.

And let’s face it, sometimes they surprise me. Don’t assume that because I’m writing all this stuff down that I know where it’s heading!

Molly