Category Archives: Steel Chronicles
Awake my Soul! A Story of depression
The holidays are very hard for those of us who suffer from depression. I know. I have depression. My pastor and I wrote a book about it. I recently wrote this short, short story for storypraxis and posted it on the ink*well website. I want to share it with my readers. I hope you find it comforting or possibly even inspiring. If you suffer from depression, the holiday season can be devastating. I am praying for you. If you are the fortunate ones who never suffer from depression, there is someone you know; someone you love; someone you can help who is suffering from depression. Pray for them this season.
Awake My Soul!
I do not move.
I am quiescent and still.
Movement for me is pain. Life is pain.
The trees outside are harsh and bare. Winter has stripped them of vigor and life. Gray fingers claw at the even grayer sky. Even the clouds do not move. The air is still. No wind. No breeze. No life. My daughter has placed me here on the porch. I feel the sting of cold on my cheeks but I can ignore it. I have ignored all feeling for months now. Since Tom died, I have had no reason to move; no reason to feel.
My daughter has wrapped a scarf around my neck and tucked it into the woolen sweater Tom gave me last year for Christmas. I can still smell him on it when I choose to acknowledge my sense of smell.
“Why is she out there on the porch?” That is my son-in-law inside the warm house.
“I’m tired of her, Richard. I can’t take this anymore.” My daughter has tears in her voice. I cannot feel them. I cannot touch them. The tears mean nothing to me.
“She’ll freeze to death.” Richard says.
“That’s the idea.”
There is a profound silence. And then, subdued sobbing; quiet, subtle. A white flake shimmies down the still air and lands on my nose. I choose not to feel it melt. So intricate, so beautiful in its design — one of a kind — it dies on my cold skin. It dies on the already dead. For, she has left me to die out here alone; cold; still; frozen.
The sliding door opens behind me and a waft of warm air bathes the back of my head. I cannot feel it on my neck for the scarf. Richard’s shadow falls over me from the lights inside the house; lights that try in vain to chase away the gray.
“You’ll have to forgive your daughter, Mom.” He says behind me. “She is very frustrated and wants to leave you out here to die.”
“I’m already frozen.” I whisper and he leans over me. His breath touches my forehead.
“Did you say something?”
“I’m already frozen.” I say more strongly. “Let me finish dying.”
My lips pull apart and I realize they have frozen together. I feel the pain as the first real sensation I have experienced in months. Richard squats beside my wheelchair and for a second, I choose to notice the strong profile of his face; his angular cheekbones; his gently stubbled chin; his clear eyes. He is watching the trees.
“Winter is hard for all of us, Mom. Spring is coming. I want to tell you a secret. It is a deep and abiding secret that no one can know.”
More flakes are falling now and caressing my cheeks. I choose not to feel their gentle touch. One lands on my cornea and I blink involuntarily. I must not do that again. But, try as I might to ignore his statement, the attraction is there. What secret is he talking about? “What secret?” My voice is a bare whisper.
“Virginia is stressed out because we have chosen to take a journey. It is a long and tedious journey and we will be gone for weeks. She doesn’t know what to do with you during that time. She can’t leave you alone. And, she isn’t going to leave you out here to die.” His breath streams away from him, a living thing full of warmth and moisture and the snowflakes eddy and swirl.
“Journey?”
“Rawanda. In Africa. There is a little girl. She needs a family.” He turns his head to me and his gaze is full and hot on my face. Tears mingle with the snowflakes. “She needs to know her grandfather. She needs to know what he was like. Only you can tell her that.”
Another snowflake hits my eye and melts. The moisture runs along my eyelid and I feel a hot tear trickle down my cheek. No! I cannot let this happen! I cannot feel!
“Will you come with us to Rawanda? Will you come with us to get your granddaughter?” His eyes are full and round and wet and the snow is covering his bare head, peppering his shoulders.
I feel something deep within stir from a slumber of unforgiving anger and frustration. The black dregs of my depression begin to drift away as the warmth stokes itself in my heart. No! I want to scream. No! I want to hold onto the stillness; the inertia; the coming of winter’s death. I try to ignore Richard’s gleaming eyes and his warm breath and when I subtly avert my gaze a flash of bright red burns my retinas. A lone flower dares to challenge the grayness from my camellia bush. The snowflakes are covering it now and it wants to be seen; it wants to look upward to the hidden sun for life and warmth; it wants to live.
The chair creaks; the ice breaks across my knees and I push, push, push up and out of the heaviness of my crypt of sorrow and I stumble to the flower. I brush away the snow with shaking hands and my tears anoint the petals with life. With life!
Awake my soul! Awake!
I turn to my son-in-law who is standing with his mouth wide open and the snow covering his head and my daughter stumbles through the open door with her hands pressed to her tear streaked face and I feel the ice crack as I smile. “When do we leave?”
God is in Control
There is a haunting appeal to contemplating the unknown. Since the dawn of mankind, we have turned our faces towards the heavens and searched the brilliant stars and the shining moon for answers. Who are we? Where did we come from? What is our purpose? What will happen to us after death? Is this all there is to life?
My daughter insists she has seen an angel. When we drive into our gated community, go up the slight hill and around the curve beside the large pond, she always points to a certain tree growing at the edge of the water.
“He was right there, Dad. Really, he was.” She describes a lanky, thin man with a beard and long hair wearing jeans and a simple tee shirt. She saw him as we passed but in looking back, he was gone. There and gone. A brief encounter with the unknown. At that time in her life, she needed this encounter. Struggling with her epilepsy and the terrible toll it had taken on her life as a high school student, she needed to know that God was still in control.
I did not see the angel. But then, the visitation was not for me. It was for her. A quiet message of reassurance that God is watching. We may not understand why life happens as it does, but we must cling to the assurance that God is in control. All I have to do is look up at the universe wheeling and spinning around our little oasis of life and know that God is in control. He is holding it all together and directing the path of each star, each galaxy, yes, each atom.
The Son is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation. For in him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things have been created through him and for him.
He is before all things, and in him all things hold together. And he is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning and the firstborn from among the dead, so that in everything he might have the supremacy. For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross. Colossians 1:15-20
I received a lovely email from a reader of “The 13th Demon”. I know the book seems to be a frightening and potentially horrific tale, but it is only in our terror that we see the power of God and His incredibly redemptive acts. In my book, I give a major character an affliction. I don’t want to say more than that for fear of spoiling a reader’s experience. The author of the email loved the book, particularly the story of the caterpillar. But, she didn’t like the fact I had used her affliction as that of one of the characters.
I saw in her email a hint of the pain and struggle of anyone who wakes up each day with a chronic illness. I see it in my daughter, who at 24 has just now begun to awaken to the possibility she can have her own life. She has started back to community college and is actually looking forward to holding a job and having an independent life. My wife and I marvel at the sudden change and not a day passes that I don’t look over my shoulder for the oncoming train. To my email fan, I sent commendation for her bravery and her honesty. I am all too aware of the toll such disease takes on a life. But, God is in control.
In the days to come, I will share more information about the nature of God’s messengers, angels. The power and presence of these creations of God are at the center of my books and to grow in understanding of these creatures is to get a glimpse of the unknown; a passing glimmer of God’s grace; a tall figure of reassurance standing by the road of life.
The Ones Who Did Not Fall
I went to Abilene, Texas to talk to a man who came back from the dead.
I’ll call him Julio. He was a simple man injured severely in a tragic accident that almost cost him his life. I heard the story of the policeman who happened upon the scene of the accident only moments after it took place. They were on a long, dark highway in the middle of flat, empty plains outside of Abilene. They were literally in the middle of nowhere. The officer found Julio lying face down on the side of the road with half of his head caved in and half of his face missing. Julio was not breathing. The officer was convinced he was dead. The man in the other vehicle was unhurt. When the officer went to speak to the other man he noticed someone hunched over Julio.
This new arrival was a man probably in his late twenties in blue jeans and a jacket. The officer ran over to the man.
“Who are you?”
“Just a friend.” The man started clearing grass and dirt out of Julio’s mouth. Suddenly, Julio gasped for breath and the officer ran back to his car to radio for a helicopter. After the call, he found Julio alone on his back on the side of the road. The “friend” was nowhere in sight. The police officer believes the “friend” was an angel.
I sat across from Julio in a TexMex restaurant just hours after meeting him and hearing his extraordinary story. I had never met this man. He knew nothing about me. I had been asked by my close friend, Mike Licona to come and interview Julio and evaluate his story and his medical records to see if there was objective proof of his story. Julio had never seen me, never talked to me, and knew nothing about me. Mike had only met him the evening before and during their conversations never mentioned my name or anything about me.
Julio suddenly looked up from his plate and looked over my shoulder as if listening to someone. I turned. There was no one there. He looked back at me.
“What do you have to do with demons?” Julio asked.
I blinked in surprise. “Why do you ask?”
“Dad told me to ask you.” He referred to God as Dad. He looked over my shoulder again and then back at me. “And why are you using the number thirteen?”
At this point in my writing career, I was finishing up the final draft of “The 13th Demon: Altar of the Spiral Eye” for Realms. Mike didn’t know I was doing this. And, Julio certainly didn’t know. I was stunned. “I’m writing a book called ‘The 13th Demon’ and it is about spiritual warfare.”
Julio just smiled. “Dad said you were doing His work. You need to tell the world all about demons and angels. And, Dad told me to tell you not to worry. You have three guardian angels to protect you.”
I got the shivers. I trembled all over and looked over my shoulder. “Where are they?”
“Right behind you. I can see them. You have important work to do and God sent them to watch over you.” He went back to his enchilada and acted as if nothing supernatural had happened.
That wasn’t the end of Julio’s amazing knowledge. But, it was both a chilling revelation and also a comfort to know that I had a guardian, no, three guardian angels. I have spent a lot of time talking about demons. The word is in the title of my book. But, we have to remember that demons are fallen angels. The good guys are still there resisting Satan and his army on our behalf.
Do I believe in guardian angels? You bet I do. In the coming weeks as we prepare for Christmas, I will devote some time in my blog on the subject of angels. In the meantime, why not take the time to make some comments on how you feel about angels. Have you ever encountered an angel? Do you think you have a guardian angel? If you have something to share that is too long for a comment, just email it to me at my contact tab on this page. Let’s talk about angels as we prepare for Christmas!
The Church I Drenched in Blood!
I remember standing beneath the concrete stairway leading up to the sanctuary of Blanchard Baptist Church, my hand firmly gripping my mother’s hand as I looked down the stairs into the creepy, shadowy, basement where all children were confined.
The hallway was long and led directly beneath the aisle in the sanctuary above. Bare bulbs hung from electrical wire dangling from the ceiling and you could hear people walking around above us. My mother handed me off to one of the children workers and I was absorbed into the strange, creepy basement of Blanchard Baptist Church. No wonder I still have nightmares about the place. And, no wonder I chose that building as the setting for “The 13th Demon: Altar of the Spiral Eye”.
SPOILER ALERT: I promised my readers I would put together a video of the history of that “white” building that I would one day cover in blood. The video contains some spoilers about the book so if you haven’t read it, you might want to wait until you have. I recently visited my old church and interviewed my good friend, Kevin Sandifer. Kevin reminded me of the Halloween I dressed up as a mad scientist, stretched him out on the pool table in the youth ministry “house” and proceeded to fling blood and guts on the kids who ran through the room. I guess back then I had a promising future in not only medicine but the macabre. Kevin Sandifer is now the Historian, Media and Archival Center’s director at First Baptist Church of Blanchard. So, as promised, a video visit to the location of all that blood and evil spilled out in “The 13th Demon”.
Of Caterpillars and Death: “Oh, my!”
Steel looked away. “I feel like I’ve only lived for two years, Claire. I can’t remember most of my life. I’m not ready to die.”
He felt her hand on his cheek. “Silly, I don’t want to die, either. I said I’m not afraid to die. Imagine you’re a caterpillar.”
Steel raised an eyebrow. “A caterpillar?”
“Just go with it, Jonathan. Your whole life is spent crawling along a leaf and eating. That’s all you do. You have no appreciation of where the leaf is. You have no idea of how far you are from the ground if you were to fall. You never see the bird that swoops down to devour you. Your appreciation of the universe is limited. And then, one day you feel this horrible sensation of dread. You feel a change coming. You’re going to die. You dread it. You fear it. You go on eating and crawling pretending it’s not going to happen. It happens. You spin yourself into a cocoon of death and know no more.” Claire’s eyes were wide with emotion. The night air grew still and close, thick with humidity. Time seemed to slow.
“And, then Jonathan, you awaken. Your body stirs and you realize you’re no longer dead. Your cocoon falls away and you spread out huge, luminous wings. You crawl away from your death shroud and you take to the air! You’re no longer a caterpillar. You’re a butterfly! You fly through trees and fields of flowers. You see the sun and the stars. An entire universe you never could have imagined is yours to appreciate. And suddenly, you spy a caterpillar crawling along its leaf. You watch your former self and you wonder how you could have ever wanted to stay like that.”
“That is death, Jonathan. We’re fat, clumsy caterpillars waiting for the day of metamorphosis. We fear the cocoon. But, when we emerge on the other side, we’ll look back from God’s eternal perspective and wonder how we could ever have wanted to stay like this.”
I’ve been overwhelmed at the response to this one passage in “The 13th Demon: Altar of the Spiral Eye”. Some say it is “profound”. Others say it is “comforting”. But, why?
Just yesterday, we learned from a very moving testimonial to the life of Steve Jobs by his sister that his last words were “Oh wow. Oh wow. Oh wow.” What did he see? Did he emerge from a cocoon and see his new form as a “butterfly” free from the confines of this earthly shape? Or, did he see the Creator in all of His splendor, majesty, and grace? No one can say for sure. But, he did see something.
This weekend, I also watched “The Captains”, a documentary by William Shatner interviewing all five actors who have played a captain of a starship in the Star Trek franchise. The most odd person was Avery Brooks who spoke in lilting metaphors and piano riffs and made very little sense whatsoever. The most concrete was Shatner himself, taking every opportunity to tell his own story of his life and how it was affected by his stent as “Captain Kirk”. But, what was most disturbing, most troubling was the answers he elicited from those he interviewed about God and what happens after death. Most answered, “I don’t know.” And, Shatner’s answer was his final lines as Captain Kirk in the ill fated “Generations” Star Trek movie that bridged the gap between the classic Star Trek universe and the Next Generation universe. As Captain Kirk lay dying his final words were, much like Steve Jobs’, “Oh, my!” I guess Shatner was expressing his desire that he hoped something was out there and whatever it is, he will be surprised.
Recently, the Discover channel premiered a show “Curiosity” and the opening episode answered the question, “Did God make the universe?” The physicists and cosmologists on the show were emphatic. There is no God. We don’t need God. The universe made itself. Even Stephen Hawking proclaimed there is no God and heaven is a “fairy tale”.
How then to put all of this together? I would say that each and every person listed above is nothing but a fat, clumsy caterpillar. Of course from our limited perspective, we can say there is no God; no transcendence; no afterlife. After all, what is our greatest desire? As a caterpillar it is to eat more leaves. In fact, give me a rain forest of leaves without predators and all of eternity to eat leaves! Wouldn’t that be the best existence? And, to defend such a Choice, for it is ultimately a choice; a worldview; a personal decision what to believe; yes to defend such a Choice we must say there is no butterfly! There is nothing beyond the cocoon. That makes all of THIS more important; more desirous; more under MY control. For the butterfly lies beyond my control in another dimension of reality that many would called the realm of “fairy tales”.
Steve Jobs triumphed the adage, “Think Different”. It is time for us to think different; think beyond the leaves and the clumsy state of existence and realize there is something beyond us; something that brought all of THIS into existence and something that has prepared an existence as fantastic and unimaginable as a butterfly is for a caterpillar. We are destined for that far country where we will fall at the feet of our Savior and say “Oh wow! Oh wow! Oh wow!”
Welcome Christian Fiction Blog Alliance Blog Tour!
I want to welcome the reviews of the Christian Fiction Blog Alliance Blog Tour! They will be reviewing “The 13th Demon: Altar of the Spiral Eye” over the next two days and you can find the list of websites performing reviews at this link.
Good or bad, reviews are there for you, the prospective reader to check them out.
Two things.
First, I will be reading an excerpt from my book, “The 13th Demon” this Saturday, October 29th at the Barnes & Noble on Youree Drive in Shreveport, Louisiana from 11 A. M. to 1 P. M. and I will be giving away free tee shirts. More information is available at this link. I hope to see you there! Bring you Nook and you can buy the electronic copy of the book right in the store!
Second, I promised to begin to release some special “Extras”. Check under the “Extra” tab for two things: Deleted Chapters and my short video on the history of human sacrifices and how we, as Christians should respond to such a horrendous practice.
A Book Review Day 1 — The Bone House by Stephen R. Lawhead
Just back from my book signing in Austin and I had time to finish up the latest book by Stephen R. Lawhead. Here is the first day of my review:
It wasn’t that long ago I accompanied my 20-something daughter to an Anime convention. I thought I knew what to expect. My daughter had talked to be at length about her fascination with Anime but this conversation did not prepare me for what awaited. Walking into the hotel/convention center in Dallas, Texas I was instantly immersed and, yes, assaulted by every sensation in the book. There was the raucous sound of heavy metal rock with Japanese singers wailing away at some song whose meaning totally escaped me. I could feel the hot, humid moisture in the air from thousands of bodies crammed into the building. I could literally taste coconut in the air from one of those scented fog machines. And the sights! Colors, faces, bodies, abnormally distorted weapons, leather, feathers, wigs, you name it. I had never seen anything quite like this. It was disturbing and quite disorienting. And, finally, there was this odd mixture of the odor of makeup, latex, leather, and body odor — I instantly dubbed “Anime funk”. I was so disoriented and confused, I hunkered down in my hotel room and made sure my daughter checked in with me every hour while I tried to ignore the confusion raging outside my door!
I bring this up because I had the same initial reaction on opening up and beginning to read Stephen R, Lawhead’s newest book, “The Bone House”. I have been waiting for the next book in the series after “The Skin Map” by Stephen R.Lawhead for a year. That book was fascinating but left me scratching my head and dangling from a cliff almost as abruptly as the time I sat in a darkened theater and watched Boba Fett fly off with Hans Solo in carbonite and realized I wouldn’t know anything for another 3 years!
Whoo! That was one long sentence. And so is the beginning of “The Bone House” by Stephen R. Lawhead. I will divide my three day book review simply into Beginning, Middle, and End. For each section of the book had a decidedly different effect on me.
Beginning
First, let me say without reservation that if you have not read “The Skin Map” you will be instantly lost at the beginning of the “The Bone House”. It literally picks up right where that book left off. No preamble. No backflash. No shortened explanations. You just dive right in.
Mina, who reluctantly accompanied her boyfriend Kit through “ley” lines into parallel dimensions and ended up in Prague of 1607 was last seen in her coffee house/pastry shop having glimpsed a strange device constructed by an alchemist for the villainous, Lord Burleigh. Kit was last seen trapped in an underground treasure room of an ancient Egyptian tomb with his dead great-grandfather Cosimo and his friend, who had located the tomb where the mysterious “skin map” had been hidden only to discover it had been stolen. And, that book ended with Mina suddenly and unexplainably appearing at the locked gate to the treasure room to free Kit, who she had not seen since arriving in Prague.
Confused yet? Not if you read “The Skin Map”. But, you will be if you don’t. So, go read that book immediately or you will be totally lost. It helps that there is a prologue of sorts, “Previously” that does summarize the events of the first book. But, even reading through this and the list of characters did me little good for some of the beginning. Suddenly, we were meeting some new characters such as Archie, the orphaned bastard child of aristocracy. And, Dr. Thomas in Egypt of the 1800’s. Oh yes, and a mystical pharaoh/priest of ancient Egypt, Turms,the Immortal, the very one whose tomb Kit was subsequently locked in centuries later.
Now, don’t give up on me. Lawhead’s command of language is exquisite. The words roll along on the page like a musical melody. His descriptions of historical settings are so spot on, you can see and hear and smell all of the sensations. And, his dialogue is very witty and distinctive. It’s just there are so many characters coming back into the picture from “The Skin Map” at different locations and at different times in their lives, you can get very confused. I found it hard to keep them all straight.
But, if you stick with the story, it all begins to come together in the middle, which I will talk about tomorrow.
In summary, the beginning of “The Bone House” is a direct sequel of “The Skin Map”. I would highly recommend the reader read the first book before diving into this book. The author assumes the reader understands “ley” lines and “inter dimensional” travel and the concept of parallel universes all with striking similarities but slight differences. If the reader has not read the previous book, there will be a temptation to set the book aside and there is simply too much “magic” in this story to not enjoy this second book. It does get more understandable and all is explained in the middle of the book. Also, the spiritual “message” of this book comes to light in the middle and it is a fascinating discussion. You don’t want to miss it!
By the way, I have accompanied my daughter to 5 other Anime conventions and they no longer disturb and confuse me. I look upon them as a wonderful opportunity to explore a complex array of humanity and mine those depths for characters and stories. You should feel the same way about “The Bone House”. Enjoy and explore the complexity of this wonderful story!
Come back tomorrow and I will show you what you will miss if you turn away from the door to “The Bone House.”
Now, for all the links:
In conjunction with the CSFF Blog Tour, I received a free copy of this book from the publisher.
Book link – http://www.amazon.com/dp/159554805X/
Author’s Web site – http://www.stephenlawhead.com/
Participants’ links:
http://noahsreads.blogspot.com/ Noah Arsenault
http://tessbissell.wordpress.com/“> Red Bissell
http://www.oerkenleaves.blogspot.com/“> Thomas Clayton Booher
http://rbclibrary.wordpress.com/“> Beckie Burnham
http://morganlbusse.wordpress.com“> Morgan L. Busse
http://csffblogtour.com/“> CSFF Blog Tour
http://jeffchapmanwriter.blogspot.com/“> Jeff Chapman
http://carolcollett.wordpress.com/“> Carol Bruce Collett
http://www.kcreviews.blogspot.com“> Karri Compton
http://www.scificatholic.com/“> D. G. D. Davidson
http://tweezlereads.blogspot.com/“> Theresa Dunlap
http://projectinga.blogspot.com/“> April Erwin
http://vicsmediaroom.wordpress.com/“> Victor Gentile
http://going-greene.blogspot.com/“>Tori Greene
http://realmofhearts.blogspot.com/“> Ryan Heart<
http://fantasythyme.blogspot.com“> Timothy Hicks
http://www.christopherhopper.com/blog/“> Christopher Hopper
http://thequietpen.wordpress.com/“> Janeen Ippolito
http://thewriterssword.blogspot.com/“> Becca Johnson
http://www.spoiledfortheordinary.blogspot.com/“> Jason Joyner
http://www.molcotw.blogspot.com/“> Julie
http://carolkeen.blogspot.com/“> Carol Keen
http://krystisbooks.blogspot.com/“> Krystine Kercher
http://mharvireads.blogspot.com/“> Marzabeth
http://www.katie-mccurdy.blogspot.com/“> Katie McCurdy
http://www.shannonmcdermott.com/?page_id=189“> Shannon McDermott
http://rebeccaluellamiller.wordpress.com/“> Rebecca LuElla Miller
http://www.bookwomanjoan.blogspot.com/“> Joan Nienhuis
http://www.chawnaschroeder.blogspot.com/“> Chawna Schroeder
http://reviewsfromtheheart.blogspot.com/“> Kathleen Smith
http://www.mindsinger.com/“> Donna Swanson
http://www.rachelstarrthomson.com/inklings/“> Rachel Starr Thomson
http://www.epictales.org/blog/robertblog.php“> Robert Treskillard
http://christiansf.blogspot.com/“> Steve Trower
http://frederation.wordpress.com“> Fred Warren
http://christian-fantasy-book-reviews.com/blog/“> Phyllis Wheeler
http://www.theravenquill.blogspot.com/“> Nicole White
http://finishedthebook.blogspot.com/“> Rachel Wyant
Are Demons Real?
I often get asked if I believe demons are real.
I was an intern just seven months after my graduation from medical school rotating through the emergency room. It was a cold February night and a raging icestorm had transformed Shreveport, Louisiana into a crystalline wonderland. Unless you were driving in the stuff or if you were homeless. Dozens of people were crowded into the emergency room waiting room trying to stay warm. The ER was divided into the surgical side and the medical side. If you were a victim of the “knife and gun club” you came to the surgical side. If you could walk through the door under your own power, you came to the “Walk In Clinic”. This is where I found myself on that cold, frigid morning.
“Groundhog, it’s your turn to see the next psych patient.” One of my team members informed me. I never figured out why my nickname was Groundhog, but it was appropriate given it was Groundhog day, albeit only 2 A.M. I reluctantly got out of my chair and headed to the far hallway where we kept the crazies. My job was simple. Evaluate the patient to make sure the “psychotic” behavior wasn’t induced by a medical condition and if not, then call the psychiatry resident to come and admit the patient to the psych ward.
I should have known something was up the minute I rounded the corner of the coldest hallway in the winter. Two policeman were leaning against the wall and neither one would meet my gaze. In fact, they were nervous, if not downright frightened. I looked down the hallway toward the examining room and noticed a sheen of water on the floor. The fluorescent light fixtures had been broken and shattered tubes hung from exposed wires sometimes sparking as I made my way through the inch deep water toward the examining room.
The door to the room was ajar and when I stepped it, I was met by chaos. The sink had been partially ripped from the wall and water was gushing onto the floor. The mirror had been shattered into a million pieces and mirrored glass covered everything. Something sharp had ripped open the cover to the examining table and its stuffing filled the air with particles. Our “Wood’s” light, a black light used in the diagnosis of skin fungus, hung by a wire and the black light made the gases from the broken fluorescent light bulbs glow with an unearthly purplish hue. And, there wasn’t a patient in sight. However, from behind the examining table in the back corner I head a raspy, deep throated breathing.
It was a rapid breathing, a guttural exhalation and inhalation like some rabid beast was waiting to rip out my throat. Slowly, I stepped around the end of the table. Crouched in the far corner was a tiny African American girl probably in her early twenties buck naked with her back to me. Her rib cage was retracting with each beastly breath.
“Ma’am, I am Dr. Hennigan. How can I help you today?” I said with trembling lips. My heart was racing and my mouth was dry.
She spun around quickly and with a twisted, feral look on her face hissed at me and shoved her clawed hands at my face. I will never forget the sound of her deep voice or the look of absolute madness in her eyes. But, more than anything, I will always remember the unmistakable sense of evil that emanated from this tiny girl.
I stumbled my way out of the room and fell in the cold water. The policemen came and dragged me from the hallway. With shaking hands, I dialed the psychiatry resident and informed him of his new patient. “You might want to pick up a priest on your way down.” Was the last thing I told him.
Later on, I learned the girl had no drugs in her system and once she reached the psychiatry floor, she calmed down but continued to exhibit bizarre behavior. She did not fit any prescribed psychiatric profile and I never found out what happened to her.
Since that time, I have learned to listen to the still, small voice within me that groans and moans in the presence of evil. I believe it to be the Holy Spirit. There have not been that many incidents in my life like the one above. But, they have happened and I am convinced beyond any shadow of a doubt that evil is real and I have dwelt for a moment in its presence.
Do I believe demons are real? You bet you, I do. I have met them. I have faced them and run away. I have struggled in the presence of their evil auras and I have fought them away with prayers and scripture. This is why I write about demons and angels. We must understand who are enemy is. We must be aware of the war that is raging around us for our very souls. To deny evil is real; to ignore the existence of the Enemy’s soldiers is to have already surrendered the world to the forces of evil. The question is: Do You Dare Look Evil in the Eye?
The fight goes on. Whose side are you on?
Don’t forget I will be in Austin at LifeWay Christian Book Stores this Saturday, October 22, 2011 from 1 to 3 P.M. and here is a flyer with the information:
Book Signing this Weekend in Austin!
I will be signing books at the LifeWay Christian Store on MoPac and here is the flyer for the event:
AUSTIN_Bruce Hennigan Book Signing_MP(2)
If you are in the Austin area come by and see me. I’m giving away free tee shirts with each book purchased.
Here is my daughter, Casey, modeling the tee shirt.
I’ll see you there!!!
Who Should Read “The 13th Demon”?
This past weekend I spent driving from Birmingham, Alabama through Talladega, Alabama up through Chattanooga, Knoxville, and on into Lexington, Kentucky. I had the honor of meeting some very dedicated and wonderful people at Crossroads Christian Church for the “God in the Dock” Apologetics Conference. I had the pleasure of meeting the organizer of the conference, Clint Field and watch his joy as people showed up and mostly filled the seats in the auditorium.
Clint had invited me to bring my book, “The 13th Demon” to the conference since portions of the book are based on apologetic principles. For more on apologetics, click on the tab labeled “Apologetics” on this page. Now, I knew this was risky. I have organized our own conference in Shreveport and I’ve been to my share of larger conferences. Fiction books are not the usual fare at these conventions. The books that are sold at the vendor tables involve science and doctrine and theology and logic and philosophy. And while many atheists would call any connection between the God of the Bible and sound science and history “fiction” these books are far from something you would curl up with in front of a fireplace with a cup of hot tea.
However, I did manage to sell a few books and the questions about the books caused me to pause. Who is my audience for my book? Who would want to read “The 13th Demon”? Here are my answers to that question for those of you still wondering if this book is for you.
Who Should Read my Book?
1 — Men, in fact, manly men, tough men, men who dream of being tough, in fact anyone who enjoyed any of the Bourne movies. I told one person at my table that Jonathan Steel was like a “Christian Jason Bourne”. Jonathan Steel is one tough, angry man with skills that will definitely protect him against just about any assailant. But, he does have a soft side. He is a Christian. He thinks!
2 — Women will enjoy this book. I told one teenage girl there was a “bit of romance” in the book and her mother jerked it out of her hand. I shook my head and told her it was in anyway related to the “Twilight” series. There were no doe-eyed girls mooning over sparkly skinned guys. But, there is a growing love story in the book. Four very strong women populate the world of Jonathan Steel and one of them is very evil!
3 — Teenagers will enjoy the book. Why? Because one of the main characters is a teenager and he will become a recurring character. As my editor told me, “every teenager is a hero is his/her own mind”. So, if you are a teenager, check out “The 13th Demon” and ask yourself how you would react if you were chased by a giant . . . sorry, “Spoilers, Sweetie”!
4 — Median and Senior Adults will enjoy this book. Two of my favorite characters surface in this book and will be with us in the future. One is Jonathan Steel’s mentor, a Yoda like Einstein look a like with a definite attitude. The other is one of the warmest people you will ever meet, Dr. Liz Washington. If she doesn’t melt your heart . . . sorry, I don’t want to give too much away.
There, I hope that gives you some idea of the broad based appeal of my book. I know it is a bit scary. It is supposed to be. It is, after all, about spiritual warfare and the forces of evil. But, the story is ultimately about forgiveness, sacrifice, and unconditional love. It is worth facing the creatures that lurk in the dark shadows of Jonathan Steel’s world to see the Light that God brings to that darkness. Take a chance!
Bruce Hennigan 
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