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Previous: The Breaking Of Bread

While his brother slept peacefully, Josh had a torrid night. He tossed and turned as he thought over what Hosh had said, and it didn't let him sleep.

Then he quietly got out of his brother's bed, went to his room and crept into his own.

'Shine, Jesus, shine,' he thought, thinking of the Christian poem written in 1987 by Graham Kendrick.

Lord, the light of your love is shining,
In the midst of the darkness shining.

'Shine on me,' he thought, 'cos I don't understand. I don't understand what has happened, and I don't know what to do. It makes me afraid.'

Shine, Jesus shine
Fill this land with, the father's glory
Blaze, spirit blaze,
Set our hearts on fire

Flow, river flow,
Flood the nations, with grace and mercy
Send forth your word
Lord, and let there be light.

As he lay thinking, the words of the poem sounded loud and clear, almost as if he was in chapel singing the hymn with others.

'What do I care about most?' he thought.

And it came to him suddenly, 'I don't want to lose my father.'

'Yeah, give him strength,' he prayed, 'and give him serenity. He needs it. Hold him Lord and lead him. From darkness to light, from death to life, from ignorance to knowledge.'

'Asato Ma Sadgamayaa, Tamaso ma jyotir gamayaa, mrityor ma'amritam gamaya
असतो मा सद गमय, तमसो मा ज्योतिर् गमय, मृत्योर मा अमृतम् गमय

Surprised at his sudden recollection of this sanskrit Brihad-aaranyak-Upanishad (1.3.28) shlok, his mind wandered to the mantra's source. He only knew that this oldest Upanishad was contained within the Shatpath Brahmana of the Shukla Yajurved.

'He must be freed,' a thought spoke inside his head, but his reason countered, 'He is happy here. He is already free. This is a free country.'

'He must go back to his roots,' the thought spoke again, 'or he'll die. Therein lies his freedom. And the freedom of the knowledge within him and of his spirit.'

God rays in IsraelAnd then it was gone. Suddenly. As suddenly, as it had arrived.

Leaving him baffled and still at sea. Completely.

He searched for the shores but they lay beyond his vision.

'But why?' he battled, disoriented again.

'Mirrored here, may our lives tell your story,' the hymn sang in his little head as he gradually knew peace that night.

Sleep silently crept up on him and cradled him away from worries. Far away. Far, far away. Into a foreign land, that he had never seen before.

Next: Rebirth Of Eagle

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