Hadassah's Watchman Trilogy, Evangheline Farcas [red scrolls of magic .txt] 📗

but I want to make sure I get someone to show you the rooms we have prepared for you and Raphael.” He was looking at his phone again getting ready to dial, but was stilled by Hadassah’s arm on his hand.
“We’re staying here? But we have a room at the h--” she began
“No my dear Arwen,” he winked, “You will be staying here, where our advisors in in all things having to do with charity will be at your disposal… and where I may also catch a glimpse of you.”
He lifted his phone to his ear not giving her a chance to protest. Soon a servant entered the library awaiting to escort Hadassah.
Philip lifted her hands once more and kissed them, sending butterflies flying in her stomach, “Until tomorrow, please Hadassah, make yourself at home and don’t hesitate to as for anything you may need.”
With that he introduced her to a kind-faced servant dressed in an elegant uniform, then with much reluctance left the room.


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When Hadassah recounted to me her time with the Prince with the eagerness of a child in a dream, I couldn’t help but rejoice. Sure, she didn’t know, but the keys to many doors had been opened on this very door and I smiled. Soon those very keys would be needed to provide protection for so many, yes, very soon.
For even as I had been walking in the perfectly kept gardens my eyes saw darkness prowling, taking the shape of a lion. Yes indeed, the Dark Ones were prowling like a roaring lion, even now seeking whom they may devour.


CHAPTER EIGHT

Isaiah 62:1 For Zion's sake I will not keep silent, And for Jerusalem's sake I will not keep quiet, Until her righteousness goes forth like brightness, And her salvation like a torch that is burning.


“Today not only in philosophy but in politics, government, and individual morality, our generation sees solutions in terms of synthesis and not absolutes. When this happens, truth, as people have always thought of truth, has died. “---- Francis Schaeffer


Bucurest, Romania December 7, 2010

The vicious lion prowled hungrily, it had a strong desire, indeed it had a strong need to devour. Yet full of malicious intent it was amazingly patient biding its time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike its unsuspecting prey.
Seraph could see this as he watched and prayed as angels fought demons over this small country as they had for thousands of years. As the watchman of Romania he had been present the year communism fell and freedom was breathed back into this beautiful country. Through the years stories passed down of how it was in the time of evil Ceausescu, of the anti-religious decrees and propaganda that had lead to many countless deaths and others tortured. It had been this country’s holocaust in so many ways. At the beginning of communism it had been subtle as evil always is, it began slowly in 1947 with non-communist leaders those who had opposed the very idea methodically and tactfully being eliminated from political life, they no longer had a voice. Under severe pressure King Michael had abdicated the throne and was forced into exile along with his family in the harsh winter of December 1947. So the battle had started and raged and then victory had finally come after much suffering in December 1989. Freedom, the word this country had not known in what had seemed like a lifetime had finally been birthed.
But as with all hard-won liberty the struggles and the price that had been paid to gain it were slowly forgotten. The right to practice religion without fear was underestimated, they did not see the Dark Ones crouching at their doors once more, for they came as angels of light.
So it had began with Ionatan, the zealous young preacher from Alba Iulia, with him taking a stand for a battered abused woman and her children, that battle had been won, yet the next one took his breath away.
Seraph had watched him closely, his hazelnut eyes were always full of burning passion as he spoke the truth to each one around him, he was always brimming with such love and even those who disagreed with him could not deny that if Ionatan spoke correction it was always because he cared to deeply to be silent.
Indeed nothing would have come to pass had not a person full of contempt overheard him speaking to his long time friend Lazar, but needless to say he was overheard.
It was summer when it began, they were sitting at a café in Alba, debating as the friends loved to do, but also being entirely truthful with one another.
“I realize that you condemn my life style Ionatan, but it is who I am this temptation as you call it, there I times I want to overcome it but I cannot.” said Lazar
Ionatan listened with traces of sorrow in his eyes, “It may be cliché to say this, but when you are weak then He is strong, you believe that don’t you?” he asked.
Pain was an evident response, “Don’t you find it strange that I do believe that? That I do long to serve Him as you do? That I long to sing in that worship team of yours and come to church and not be condemned for what I am?” he lamented.
“I know you do, but you know where the church stands on this, where God stands on this. Of course you may come, we will not condemn you Lazar, you are welcome and we will help you if you ever would like our help” said Ionatan with such sincerity.
Lazar sighed, “You’ve shown this to me by not turning your back on me like some when I told you,” he paused in thoughfulness, “I’ve been thinking long and hard, and I want to change, some would say I cannot change but I do, I really do, but I’m afraid, what if I fail, what if I fall back into my lifestyle, what will happen then?”
Ionatan smiled a brilliant smile, “Then, my friend we surround you and help you get back up, don’t think for one minute your more of a sinner then I am or anyone else in that church or on this earth for that matter. Lazar, there will be times you will fall, but God always waits for you to take His hand, He wait for you to let Him help you.”
So the conversation went, as what seemed impossible was becoming possible, yet each word spoken was being stored away in the mind of Congressman Ioan, who clearly saw this as brainwashing hogwash of religion, an infringement on Lazar’s rights, not fully accepting that Lazar did indeed make his own choice.
With a passionate hate he petitioned for laws to be passed, the hate speech laws, the laws that soon prohibited religion to be discussed in schools, it all came slowly at first. It all had began with Ionatan’s trial, which was lost due to it now being against the law to preach against what the church believed was wrong, like homosexuality, abortion and such. It didn’t matter that the church did not force anyone to enter it’s doors, it did not matter at all, and Ionatan was imprisoned, sentenced to five years in prison. Yet that would have been nothing compared to the onslaught Ioan had brought back upon his country. Soon the anti religious decrees and propaganda began once more, equality was preached again that each person was entitled to only what the government said was good and that meant the same wages for all, rations, but most horribly persecution came back to Romania.
Seraph saw it all, and looked towards the heavens, he had sounded the alarm with his aroma of prayers. Yet he could not make the choice for all to listen to it, Pastors of the churches each were faced with choices to compromise and preach only what was allowed and what was pleasing or speak what they believed and face prison and surely even torture. Still the angels fought, the Dark Ones mocked as some of the humans succumbed to their whispers, yet still Seraph continued in intercession, for surely help would come God would surely raise one to save these people. He saw the ones led away each day from their families with tears staining their eyes, alongside them walked the angels draped in brilliant white robes carrying alabaster bottles that soon soared to heaven’s throne.


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I walked with Hadassah through the halls of Drottningholm Palace, my violin in my hands, our feet clip clopping along the marble floors, soon we reached our favorite place to unwind and relax, where books upon books tempted us and soothed us all at once.
She had a pleasant smile on her face, of one who may perhaps be falling in love. The Prince and Hadassah had been inseparable as often as possible drawing closer each time they united their hearts in Nobody’s Child Outreach. Each time he saw her holding a woman that was battered and bruised and without hope, each time she wiped the tear of an orphan, each time they provided together new homes for the homeless their bond strengthened. Though their times together were not as often as each would have preferred still the moments they had were priceless treasures.
We sat in the comfortable loveseats closest to the window, and it tore at my heart that her smile may soon falter.
“What will you play this time Raphael?” she asked.
Unclasping the case and with much care and love I took out the ancient violin, “Listen Hadassah, pay attention to the images you will see, they will call to you, your purpose only now begins, but it is your choice whether to hear. The melody is called First Cry.”


CHAPTER NINE


“We all know that books will burn -- yet we have the greater knowledge that books cannot be killed by fire. People die, but books never die. No man and no force can abolish memory…” ----Franklin D. Roosevelt


John 15:20 "Remember the word that I said to you, ' A slave is not greater than his master ' If they persecuted Me, they will also persecute you; if they kept My word, they will keep yours also.


Hadassah listened enraptured by the melody, she could swear she heard more then just Raphael’s violin, it was as if an entire orchestra had joined in. The notes soared high, some of the notes seemed like piercing screams, others were low and heart-breaking, still others were sweet and comforting. But it was not only what she could hear, it was what she could now see, she blinked yet the images refused to fade, in fact they became clearer, the focus became sharp almost as if she was there.
First there was a regal woman, her beauty was unfathomable, she had rich dark flowing hair similar to her own, her eyes were a luscious green, like a rainforest. Her clothing was ancient it seemed, she was draped in rich silks white with intricate gold designs throughout the sheer pattern, on her head rested a beautiful crown shaped like lilies of the valley that looked so delicate and perfect. Though it was clear of what her stature was there was a fear in her eyes, and her chin trembled as she tried to subdue it.