A Tale and The Gift

Vancouver

Many blue moons ago, when I was still living in a place called beautiful British Columbia (BC), I met this gal whose dusky - with long brown silky hair - exotic looks contrasting her fluid American posture caught my attention the first time I saw her. There was also an air of vulnerability about her that was heightened by her petite form. I remember staring at her in fascination the whole time we were having a bible study and by happenstance, I ended up taking a ride home with her. This started a friendship that would last to this day.

A year after meeting E, she decided to move back to the States where she had previously worked and settled in a marriage for a number of years. My stay in BC was never the same after she left. Adventuresome, she brought life and excitement to my otherwise groping-in-the-dark existence as a new migrant to the country. We frequented cozy and quaint cafes around pristine Coquitlam city where we both lived for after-dinner dessert (we shared the same love for syrupy dark chocolate cake) and coffee or cocktails. We loved heading off to the English Bay beach afterwards for a view of the more often than not, sparsely adorned sky at night and to listen to the soothing sound made by waters softly crashing against rocks. Those waters washed away shared soppy stories of our past.
Granville Island.
Salt Spring Island.

Most Saturdays, E and I would have our breakfast at the famed Granville Island (a public market and marina), where we usually feasted on assorted fresh European breads or other baked treats and a cup of hot chocolate. The sight and sound of buskers performing on a small stage swarmed with seagulls and backdropped by the water and sailboats while munching on our treats was quite a pleasurable experience. Long weekends brought us to Victoria and the Gulf Islands, most memorable of which was our stay at the Salt Spring Island, the arts and crafts capital of BC. While I gawked at the works of world-class artists of every type displayed in home studios, the potteries (I want to be a pottery artist when I grow up!) especially mesmerized me. I'll never forget this captivating scenery that welcomed us while driving around the island during sunset - bright golden, reddish and bright orangey hues playing against each other across the sky while complimenting the lush greeneries of meadows grazed by a smattering of cows and sheeps, silhouetted by the not so distant deep-blue and green ocean formed a perfect picture for a painter's canvas. I was gushing until the next day. Dinners were spent at a marina restaurant where the array of seafood fares were a feast to the palate. The salty smell of the ocean and constant sea-breeze flowing around did something to turn my mind and body into an ultra-relaxed mode. As an artist by heart, Salt Spring Island, in my book of travels (not extensive mind you! haha!) is one of the ultimate oases on the planet.

E's family lived in an old Victorian-style house where she roomed in the basement which pretty much covered the entire surface area of the place. The isolation of the pad from the rest of the abode, allowed us to let go of shameless, gas-belching raucous laughters and giggles (in) those nights that I'd sleep over. Its four walls were also a testatement to the discovery of a particular gift that stirred me to further my spiritual pursuits.

For all of E's gaiety and vibrant looks, I soon discovered that stored in her heart and soul are gut-wrenching experiences that made up very fragile emotions. One night while confessing about her kept-from-the-family impending divorce, I offered to pray with her for strength to bear the crisis. Now while I was familiar with warfare type of prayer, the kind that leaves a trail of "dust and gunpowder" from fleeing unseen enemies where sometimes physical manifestations would occur, I was not prepared for this other dimension I stepped into the moment I placed my hand on her back. Immediately, I saw images in my mind - images of fetuses crying from the womb, seemingly seeking to forgive. As if on cue from the spirit, I gently asked her "did you have two abortions in the past?" She bawled at this point, admitting to have been convinced by her husband to get rid of the children he was not prepared for at the young stage of their married life. I looked at her in the eyes and said, "E, this is my first time to experience this and it's overwhelming, but this sure is a sign that God wants to bring healing into your life." I went on to lead her into a prayer of repentance which included asking forgiveness from her unborn children. I continued to see images in my mind which told me that the Holy Spirit wanted to do a thorough cleansing of her soul and spirit - childhood traumas, times when she cursed out of extreme anger, even the time when she allowed a palm reader to predict her future (an abomination to God) and other disturbing events in her life - all of which she confirmed and released through prayer. That night brought the first deep and restful sleep E has had in years.

My friend enjoyed a time of spiritual refreshing for a number of weeks after that. I truly wish I could say it was a happily-ever-after ending story for her but sad to say, she went back to the extra-marital affair that totally ripped her marriage apart.

Jesus said to Mary Magdalene after being chased by a stone-throwing mob for accusations of adultery:

"Neither do I condemn you, go and sin no more." John 8:11.

E went back full-circle to where she came from, abandoning God's leading for her to live a clean life. Nowadays, in a constant state of relational anxiety, she calls me to ask if I could use my gift to "look" into her situation, which I always refuse - the gift is meant to be used at the instigation of God, for His glory and not for man's whims.

Soon after I left Vancouver for Toronto. The lady (whom I hardly knew) who manned the booksale counter at the lobby of the church I attended summoned me one time and whispered in earnest as if to warn, "B, I dreamt about you last night, God told me to say this to you:"

Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth, while the evil days come not, nor the years draw nigh, when thou shalt say, I have no pleasure in them…

It's a verse from Ecclesiastes 12, the very chapter I quoted in my Alumni Book upon graduation from university. God knew I was going to stray from his calling. To this day I ponder on the reminder and treasure it in my heart. Soon and by God's grace, I intend to fully heed to it - while I still have a portion of my youth and before the years draw nigh when I shall say, I have no pleasure in them.