Bishop Jonathan Blake
After mainly frivolous chat to passengers for three weeks, absconding from humanity for the day seemed like heaven. Shut in my cabin, I edited my new book on cancer therapy, ‘The CREATE Program for Cancer Patients’.
Evening dinner was formal, black tie. ‘More frivolous chat’, I thought. ‘I’ll abscond from that too and grab a quick buffet.’ But the Gods sometimes have other plans...
Due to the formal dinner, the usually packed buffet room was empty apart from three ladies. I plated a buffet and walked past them. ‘Hello,’ one said. ‘I watched you painting last week. Your art work is really good’.
‘Thank you’, I said. It seemed she wanted to talk. ‘But if you don’t mind, I’m writing a book and am absconding from humanity today.’
‘So are we’, said a red-haired lady. ‘We’re absconding from humanity today too!’
My ears prickled. ‘Was this co-incidence,’ I thought ‘Or...?’ I looked at the black-haired lady. I knew her. I recognised her features and physiognomy. Deep eyes, to seek in the dark. Deep furrows on brow between eyes, to focus longer on mystical secrets. And deep awareness of my every movement, to check me out. ‘Are you a medium?’ I asked.
‘How did you know?’
‘I teach mediums. It takes one to know one.’
‘I’m Gaynor Thompson,’ she said. ‘This is Lyn, my student, this is Monica. She teaches healing therapies and partners me in ‘new age’ shops, conferences, and other ventures.’
Soon, conversation was the opposite of frivolous, as deep as her eyes. We struck at the hearts of angels, therapy, and psychic nature. ‘So many people come to us feeling lost,’ the teacher said.
‘I’ve written a book and lecture about people who feel lost. Many are angels on earth.’ I can feel her instant disbelief. She doesn’t believe in angels on earth. ‘I’ve lectured on angels on earth in many countries. The last one, in Mexico, was to about 400 people. I live in Margate,’ I added.
They looked at each other intently. ‘We’re not far from Margate,’ said Gaynor. ‘Our website is http://www.miraclesandmagicbexleyheath.co.uk/ . I don’t believe in earth angels, but I knew something would happen towards the end of our cruise...
The three women chatted happily. I felt Gaynor not believing in me, or in earth angels. I listened politely, until Gaynor said, ‘Last month, a priest came to me. His eyes were so Christ-like, I fell in love, you know, nice love. He said I’m like him. I said no I’m not. He said yes you are.’
That sounds like Bishop Jonathan Blake. Without saying a word,I opened my laptop, and opened a photo. I covered others in the picture, and to show Jonathan in full bishops’ garb. Gaynor is a chatty lady, but her mouth fell wide open for a long minute. She shivered, then shook, then cried. ‘What... how...’ she eventually spluttered. ‘That’s him! That’s him! That’s the priest! Look at his eyes!’ She turned to me. ‘How did you know?’
I didn’t reply. I simply uncovered the rest of the photo, showing eight other dog-collared priests. ‘But, but that’s you! How come...?’ She shook and cried again.
I simply said, ‘He’s a friend.’
‘I believe you now,’ she said. ‘And maybe I believe in earth angels now too. We’re holding a conference in April, and have turned down many people who want to speak there. You’re the one. It’s you we’ve been waiting for. Would you like to lecture on Angels on Earth at the Halo Retreat, at the Inn on the Lake on April 22nd? That website is http://www.haloretreats.com/ ’
We’d both absconded from human frivolities – which sometimes creates space for forces ‘above’ to guide our lives to better purpose and goodness. Maybe more absconding is needed by most of us?
Evening dinner was formal, black tie. ‘More frivolous chat’, I thought. ‘I’ll abscond from that too and grab a quick buffet.’ But the Gods sometimes have other plans...
Due to the formal dinner, the usually packed buffet room was empty apart from three ladies. I plated a buffet and walked past them. ‘Hello,’ one said. ‘I watched you painting last week. Your art work is really good’.
‘Thank you’, I said. It seemed she wanted to talk. ‘But if you don’t mind, I’m writing a book and am absconding from humanity today.’
‘So are we’, said a red-haired lady. ‘We’re absconding from humanity today too!’
My ears prickled. ‘Was this co-incidence,’ I thought ‘Or...?’ I looked at the black-haired lady. I knew her. I recognised her features and physiognomy. Deep eyes, to seek in the dark. Deep furrows on brow between eyes, to focus longer on mystical secrets. And deep awareness of my every movement, to check me out. ‘Are you a medium?’ I asked.
‘How did you know?’
‘I teach mediums. It takes one to know one.’
‘I’m Gaynor Thompson,’ she said. ‘This is Lyn, my student, this is Monica. She teaches healing therapies and partners me in ‘new age’ shops, conferences, and other ventures.’
Soon, conversation was the opposite of frivolous, as deep as her eyes. We struck at the hearts of angels, therapy, and psychic nature. ‘So many people come to us feeling lost,’ the teacher said.
‘I’ve written a book and lecture about people who feel lost. Many are angels on earth.’ I can feel her instant disbelief. She doesn’t believe in angels on earth. ‘I’ve lectured on angels on earth in many countries. The last one, in Mexico, was to about 400 people. I live in Margate,’ I added.
They looked at each other intently. ‘We’re not far from Margate,’ said Gaynor. ‘Our website is http://www.miraclesandmagicbexleyheath.co.uk/ . I don’t believe in earth angels, but I knew something would happen towards the end of our cruise...
The three women chatted happily. I felt Gaynor not believing in me, or in earth angels. I listened politely, until Gaynor said, ‘Last month, a priest came to me. His eyes were so Christ-like, I fell in love, you know, nice love. He said I’m like him. I said no I’m not. He said yes you are.’
That sounds like Bishop Jonathan Blake. Without saying a word,I opened my laptop, and opened a photo. I covered others in the picture, and to show Jonathan in full bishops’ garb. Gaynor is a chatty lady, but her mouth fell wide open for a long minute. She shivered, then shook, then cried. ‘What... how...’ she eventually spluttered. ‘That’s him! That’s him! That’s the priest! Look at his eyes!’ She turned to me. ‘How did you know?’
I didn’t reply. I simply uncovered the rest of the photo, showing eight other dog-collared priests. ‘But, but that’s you! How come...?’ She shook and cried again.
I simply said, ‘He’s a friend.’
‘I believe you now,’ she said. ‘And maybe I believe in earth angels now too. We’re holding a conference in April, and have turned down many people who want to speak there. You’re the one. It’s you we’ve been waiting for. Would you like to lecture on Angels on Earth at the Halo Retreat, at the Inn on the Lake on April 22nd? That website is http://www.haloretreats.com/ ’
We’d both absconded from human frivolities – which sometimes creates space for forces ‘above’ to guide our lives to better purpose and goodness. Maybe more absconding is needed by most of us?
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