Chapter 27: The Emmaus Walk
This is a really amazing miracle. The Emmaus Walk. Ahnora called, out of the blue, and asked if I would be willing to attend a three-day seminar at a church. I hadn't been in a church in years. She said it would be on a weekend. I'd go in on Friday night and leave on Sunday. She gave me the dates. She explained the retreat is called The Emmaus Walk and I could only be sponsored by one who had been on one, which she had. I asked what does the walk mean and what’s the purpose. She said two men had been walking toward a town called Emmaus after Jesus had been crucified. A third man joined them and proceeded to explain what their Scripture truly means. The Old Testament. His wisdom astounded the men. They arrived at their destination and made lunch. The moment they broke bread, the men's eyes were opened, and they saw they had been talking with Jesus. He vanished. A miracle.
She had no idea if I would benefit from the retreat, she knew several who had. I agreed to attend. The weekend came, an elderly gentleman picked me up at home. The church was forty-five minutes west. There was a beautiful sunset. I asked him what people had derived. He explained I would learn something, he had no idea what. We arrived, and they collected our cell phones and watches. We would have no idea of time and would be awakened by hand bells. People on social media have suggested the reason they took our phones was so they could be hacked, thus explaining the following miracle. This was not possible, I’m a good judge of character from years in big-ticket sales; these giving and caring folks were far too sincere. There were seventeen of us, all men. The minister informed us that volunteers would be continually praying for us in the chapel. Around the clock. All food was home cooked. Let's say you wanted a Mountain Dew, and they didn't have it, you would have a Mountain Dew shortly. Incredible service. Saturday morning came, and we all met in a conference room and broken into groups. There were five in my group and we were asked to assign a spokesman. The minister explained we would be listening to speakers who had experienced traumatic events and how they survived. We were to take notes. Late Sunday afternoon, our speaker would explain to all, what our group had learned. Two speakers I remember. One man had been sodomized by a priest for several years when young. The other was an elderly, big man with a deep voice. He’d been head minister of a large local church. When his trauma started, he was in his sixties. One morning, he was holding a toothbrush and had no idea what it was for. His wife found him sitting on the kitchen floor, crying. He went through months of therapy for deep clinical depression.
Sunday afternoon came and the five of us explained individual lessons learned. A mutual decision was made about what our spokesman should explain. I had told my group about Mary Jo, after a moment, I said, ''Gentlemen, I’ve never explained to a group what our family experienced and how we survived. I’d be honored to do so now." All agreed, our turn came. After talking for about twenty minutes, the minister plus several others shook my hand. I explained I was a messenger, simply trying to help others understand tragedies they’ve experienced. Two men explained what they had been going through. One was elderly and taking care of his wife, who was dying of cancer. What I had said about death being an illusion, and we live forever, touched him deeply. The other was a married young man with three children. He said he had lost his job and his employment was about to expire. I’d explained that worry does nothing but rob us of peace. I’d also briefly talked about our ego and how it wants us to be either living in the past or worrying about the future. In doing so, we’re not living in the moment and talking to God now. The young man shook my hand and said, "Thank you." “You're Welcome”. I simply told the truth.
Saturday night we went to the empty sanctuary where services were held. The auditorium was huge. Communion was offered, certainly not mandatory. All of us accepted. Sunday evening was when the miracle occurred, several were astounded, as was I. We again went to the sanctuary, naturally expecting it to be empty. When the doors opened, there were hundreds of people holding candles. All for the men who had just completed The Emmaus Walk. I experienced a wave of Indescribable Love. Much greater than when I had said yes to Jesus, years before, with Chuck. We walked to our seats and this is when I met Ahnora. The church had paid for her flight from the Carolinas to meet me, this was an absolutely beautiful gesture. The congregation left, and we were advised to take communion. This time we were instructed to put something on the bread no longer wanted and someone else would ingest. I placed on the bread that I wanted complete healing of the pain of losing her. I was totally and forever healed.
We were packing and a young man I had met last night came over. He was married with three children, worked two jobs, and a gifted guitarist. He said, “Mary Jo was blond, right? "Yes." "And she enjoyed dressing in black?" "Yes." “Who is Travie?" "Our nickname for our son, Travis.” ''And you have a favorite picture of Mary Jo's, you're lying on your back with a baby on your chest her name starts with a T, Who's that?" Tara." I was amazed and asked, "How do you know this?" Mary Jo had come to him in a dream. She also said she would visit me twice in time. She was pleased with how happy our children are, and I was doing a good job. Folks who ask for proof that God exists, now have it. How could he have possibly known that information? The driver drove Ahnora and I back to my apartment. She flew out, and I haven't talked with her since. I do follow her on Facebook. She more than made up for starting our past relationship out with a lie, the picture. She had been an author, if you will, of the greatest and perhaps final miracle of my life.
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