Chapter Twenty-Two
The Glove of Heaven
…As I approached the well-lit
dam, more joy, and fascination ensued.
It was about five o’clock in the morning or close to that time. The night sky appeared to encompass me like a
glove of heaven. It’s cool, crisp air
embracing me so deep, I could feel it in through my eyes and in my blood.
I had heard deer leaping in the wooded
areas surrounding the path I took. Yet,
I did not see one. It was as if they
were running beside me. I actually have
had a deer run with me as I ran, once.
It was miraculous:
Leaping deer…
It was early one morning. This buck with a full rack, ran side by side
not more than twenty feet from me, leaping over fences as if to keep up with
me. My friend, Brian McCourt, was
running to my left and the buck was running in sync with us to Brian’s
left. This was for a good hundred
yards.
Brian didn’t notice it till the end of the
run with the buck. Brian as usual, was
hammering me, pushing our pace as he ran, now warmed up. My quads started to scream. I knew the pain would continue for miles as
always. Then depending on how soon I
felt my right leg start to collapse out from under me. It would buckle and then I’d try to drive the
body with the left leg and my lion’s heart.
When I’d get to this point, just moving my head would make me trip or
fall over. My balance seven years before
was not good. Back then, I thought no
one knew this. I figured if I avoided
the subject, I could win my legs and my health back.
My thoughts digress about where my body had
been before today, before all of this peacefulness. I ran back then to conquer illness and injury. To get past and increase my energy to twenty
thousand cycles per second, and to explain myself to God, and to rid myself of detained
rage.
Rage?
Oh, everyone has rage embedded into their soul. Most of us are in denial. I had a few men make me face it, one for bad,
many others for good. If you don’t rid
yourself of the toxic levels of rage, your immune system is suppressed. You become diseased. You become an addict. You’re no longer enthused and perhaps no
longer marveling at life. Then you lose
the joy of your life. Not the tangible
finite part. It is the worst you
lose. You lose a little piece of the
eternal part. The sacred intimate
relationship you have with your Maker.
And that is what Hell is.
The glove feelings I’ve had while outside
my home, running, at times fighting for my life or for what is right, the
gloved feeling has come in many forms. Sometimes
from the late night air; the desert late day breezes of heat, yet over one
hundred twenty degrees fahrenheit, it still feels good. I wondered as I feel the glove of heat from
the desert, if this is how one feels, if they were to be such Biblical
characters as Moses or Christ wandering in the desolation of a desert terrain.
Those early mornings in spring-time when,
only the first tweets of birds are heard in the stilled darkness just before
light. And the secure gloved feelings
I’ve had near times of death. The times
I thought I’d be dead, I became somehow masked from, and felt the protection of
God’s essence. Something perhaps few
have felt. Even seemingly dying, was
replaced with calmness of the glove of heaven, then I re-arrived back to earth.
I’ve had other experiences such as these,
fighting for dignity or what’s right.
That day you raise your hand, and swear on a Bible. Walking into a courtroom to testify, when you
know you’re the truth and all else evil must fall at your feet. Because you know you are just a spec of sand,
yet the glove of heaven secures your task at hand.
Now this all was past, and I ran knowing
for now as much as I’m on amber alert
probably forever, I’m still progressing forward. I’m feeling every spec of air as I run and
pull away from the lighting of the Monksville Dam. The darkness increases.
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