The Fight at the Gas Station

It was Mother’s Day. It was one of my favorite days this year. It was a day where I got to be myself. They were always my favorite moments. It started not the way it ended. I had found myself in a weird energetic spot with the HOW TO BECOME A CHRIST zoom group that I had been frequenting for some time. I hadn’t yet put my finger on what inside me had shifted to make this group not a place where I was any longer feeling vibrational resonance. But I got to have a sister experience to that energy, that turned out to be very significant to my learning.

I was on a new zoom group. It was Sunday, Mother’s Day. I took a recommendation from someone, and showed up online, doing my best to stay in divine curiosity. The group was supposed to be three hours long, and within 45 minutes, there it was, that vibratory sensation coming through again. So I was willing to say, “hey I gave this an open shot and this group just isn’t for me” I closed the lid to my macbook.

Now what God? It’s Mother’s day, my kids are not here and I’m stuck in an empty tiled bedroom room filled with boxes. I’d made myself a nice little bundle of blankets to sleep on with a pile of books by the foot of my blankets. Roberts neighborhood wasn’t really a walkable neighborhood, but I didn’t care.

Go for a walk right now. Well I’ll shower first?

No, just go for a walk.

K.

I wanted to stop at the Lady of our Assumption Church along the way and sit with the mother Mary statue there for a while, but God wanted me to keep walking up the street past it. I was high up in the energies now, it felt good to forgive how the day had started a few hours earlier. Maybe I went a mile past the church it was hard to tell.

Cross the street.

I turn to look across the street to see where the next corner would be to cross. Rather than finding one, my eyes fell on a gas station parking lot. There were four people, 2 people were watching something, what were they watching? They were watching the other two men. What were they doing? They looked like they were maybe horsing around, but one of them was waving something around and swinging at the other man. They were yelling. “Come closer, Fuck you”……

Walk across the street, I’m going to come through all the way okay? Okay. In that moment my personality, the jazz part of me stepped aside. My body is swiftly but calmly moving in the direction of these two men. Now I had a clear picture. One man was hitting another man with a black object. But what was it? A gun? No. It looked like one of those police weapon thingy’s. They call them baton’s I think.

Now I’m a few feet away to the two men. I approach the one who is still hitting the other man. “Hey.” I say so calm it immediately sent golf ball sized holes of love into the violent energy that had just been present. The man looks up. His eyes were red. Maybe a popped blood vessel, but in the moment that he looked up, they were hollowed with hatred. Our eyes locked and the hatred pouring out from him just a moment ago, disappeared, and just then he transformed into a hurting man. I could feel how much he loved God.

“Would you come for a walk with me?” The words rolled of my tongue with no thought.

“Yes I would.” There was no delay in his response. He let out a sigh of something, and locked his fingers with mine.

Yes, I would. Just like that, you ask someone to go for a walk and they go from harming someone to taking your hand and walking away. The other two people stayed at the gas station to help the other man who appeared to be okay. “My name is Dorian.” I smile. “I’m Jazz.” I go to interlock my elbow with his as we scurry across the street to make the light. I look down, his hand still clutching the black weapon he was using was bloody. “Your’e hurt” I said, wondering if he even noticed. “Here, take this.” He gives me the black thing, still unsure of what it was exactly, I held it in my hand.

I ask him with pure curiosity in my voice, “So, what was all that about?” He started to cry. I’m not sure if he answered the question. He started to talk about his drug addiction, the persecution of his native tribe, and his eight years of being homeless. He looked no older than 30. “What you just did. Are you an angel? You’re an angel. your’e my angel.” His words were slurring. I put my arm around him. He stops walking and looks at me as if to remember something. “You have to take this. I look behind us as he stops in his tracks and I see the cops were on their way to the gas station that we had just left. “Take my jacket.” It was 90 degree’s outside in Albuquerque. “Oh you’re leather jacket, are you sure you don’t need it?” I knew it was his way of giving something to me he cared about. “Yes, I insist, I need to give this to you to repay you. You just saved that guys life. You saved my life do you understand? And I was so MAD! Had I stayed…..” his voice trailed off.

We keep walking. God did all the walking and talking. “We are just here to help each other. Say, do you believe in God?” Of course I knew the answer. He gave me a funny look like he had something to tell me. “Check out the gift I left you in my jacket. I reach in to his coat pocket. It was a book. I read the tattered cover, Jesus Cares for you-Here’s Hope. We walk some more the cop cars now just pin dots behind us. “I look in the mirror everyday, and I see God.” He goes on to say. The book looked like he might’ve read it three times a day for the last five years. “It’s my everything. Jesus is everything to me, I don’t know what I would do without Jesus. I pray for him to help me.” I didn’t say much more as we walked, and I knew what he was saying was from his heart. My heart was encapsulating my whole body. “I love you Dorian.” I looked at him. I knew it was time for me to be on my way back home.

“I’m going to head home now.” He seemed sad to hear the news. “I will never forget you. I love you so much.” We hugged, he cried some more. Little did he know that he restored my faith in humanity that day. I thought of all the people I’d met that I couldn’t be myself around. I could just do what I wanted to do which was just to love him. He didn’t know me, he didn’t ask me where I’d been or where I was headed. He trusted me to let me love him and that meant I got to express myself fully in his presence. I got to watch his heart change because he let God in.

Now I’m at the corner to where it started. I’m so hot, walking, and now carrying this heavy jacket. The ambulance were now at the gas station. I walked back to Robert’s. Getting rid of that odd black weapon thing, but holding on to the leather jacket and Jesus book. I went home, came down from the energies a bit, and adrenaline started to kick in from what had just happened. I called my mom, I called Michael. I layed like that for the rest of the day. Dreamy. It’s a dream. It really isn’t real. All of that. That was pre-planned. It’s all God. If you could just send me to hearts like that one God. It doesn’t matter what they’ve done, or who they are. I just want to meet hearts like that heart. An open heart. One that will let me love them.

He restored my faith that day. My faith to know that there is a home in the hearts of some for God. I liked days where I changed the most. I changed a lot that day.

Published by TheEnlightenedRebel

My story

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