CHOSEN
It all takes place in the very far north
Where majestic dragons fly back and forth
And in the Land of the Midnight Sun
You’ll learn much before we’re done.
The midnight sun was just beginning to settle behind the tallest jagged peak of the rocky mountains. It's brilliant light beams radiated across the great expanse of sky, reflecting neon pink onto the thick rolling cotton clouds above and a soft soft pink hue on the mountains below as far as the eye could see.
Willow’s deep forest green eyes soaked in yet another spectacular sunset. She’d witnessed many of these. Yet with each one she’d so carefully examined, none were the same, each one seemed better than the last. This fascinated her.
This was a gift from the Father of Lights. He played this lullaby often when closing the daylight curtain for this realm.
The Father’s gift was offered free to everyone, but for one to be a part of it, one had to always be alert, always watchful, for it was fleeting. If one was sidetracked with some trivial thing, one could completely miss the splendor unfolding right before them. In a few moments, it would be gone forever, never to be repeated in the same way.
As Willow’s contemplative thoughts of the universe swirled about her mind, she felt hypnotized by the beauty before her. Her lids grew heavy. As the sun finished tucking itself in for the night behind the majestic mountain, her lids followed its downward descent.
As her eyes fully closed, her mind fully opened…
into the dreamscape.
Within the soft sleepy dreamscape, Willow sensed her body becoming light, along with a lifting sensation, almost as if she were a graceful little feather gliding on the gentlest breeze. She felt herself drifting in and out of consciousness, teetering on that ledge just before one slips into a deep sleep.
Sometime later, or so it seemed, as she had no sense of time passing, Willow began to wake. Her mind came into focus a bit at a time and her vision began to clear.
She became aware of his luxuriously soft, glistening, almost transparent crystal white feathery fur surrounding her body. Its incredible softness seemed to envelop her entire being like a giant heavenly hug.
Genesis …Willow quietly breathed out his name in a pleased and relaxed sigh.
She sleepily stretched her body out fully across his strong back. Nestling deep into his protective softness, she felt such incredible comfort, such warmth, a feeling she only felt when she was with him. Her mind tried to find the right word to describe it. It felt more like…belonging.
Genesis was magnificent. To Willow, he was beyond her mind’s comprehension. Though she had studied him in great detail, written about him, designed him into her art, her mind simply could not fully take in and process all she knew when she was in his presence.
Genesis was thee single constant, consistent companion in Willow’s life. He was her one loyal friend and the love of her life. He was thee only being she’d ever been able to completely trust, to believe, to count on. He’d been there with her from her beginning.
Genesis was her guardian angel. And Genesis was a dragon.
Whenever Genesis transcended his spiritual realm and physically appeared in hers, Willow knew a very special journey was about to take place…a growth journey. She didn’t know it yet, but this visit would prove to be one of the most important journeys of her life.
The heavens above were dark. Willow lay on her back soaking in the rays of the giant super moon that proudly shone above them. A million stars twinkled. Shooting stars raced one another with glowing trails behind them. Sparkling mist danced beneath them like waves on the ocean.
Rolling over onto her stomach, Willow propped herself up on both elbows. She peered down over Genesis’ strong muscular shoulder and his magnificent wing. She saw a winding landscape below just coming into view as they silently glided through an opening in the sparkling mist.
Willow was in awe. She didn’t speak a word. She didn’t need to. She felt as if they were descending down into the most perfect enchanted Christmas card she’d ever seen.
At the base of a mountain, Willow could make out a tiny cabin with wispy smoke softly billowing from its chimney. The land surrounding it was covered in fresh fallen snow. Delicate ice crystals hung in the air, like tiny stars, glittering in moonlight. The air was still and silent.
As they came closer to the cabin, a large covered porch attached to the front came into view. On it hung a beautiful porch swing. Next to the swing stood a fat little evergreen Christmas tree wrapped in glowing tiny white lights. The lights illuminated the porch in a warm happy glow.
Willow suddenly found herself standing on the porch, directly in front of a large, heavy, intricately hand-carved door. The design was of a tree…a willow tree…inside a circle…the shape of the Tree of Life. Swirling branches enveloped natural knots in the wood so as to look like leaves. Winding roots coiled downward, wrapping around the bottom and continuing to the inside.
One branch reached far to the right, encircling the door handle. The handle was ornate crystal, so clear and smooth it looked to be carved of ice. The white lights reflected in it, making it glow. Its shape was a 7-pointed star, like the Swedish star Willow had put on her atop of her Christmas every year. Between its points were smooth spaces just the right fit for Willow’s fingers.
Willow shivered as a gust of frigid north wind suddenly whipped about her body. She quickly reached up to grasp the loose hood of her long green cape and pull it snug around her neck. This was her first realization that she now felt the cold.
As Willow glanced about her looking for Genesis’ whereabouts, the door in front of her opened a few inches. Through the opening, she could see the bright glow of a now very welcoming fire in a tiny, glass-front, cast-iron wood stove.
A second wind gust hit the porch so forcefully that it seemed almost to push her into the opening. The wind whipped at her long green skirt. Snow swirled about her knee-high black snow boots. Willow practically jumped inside and abruptly closed the door behind her.
Whew, where did that come from?! she asked herself. She brushed her long, red, windblown curls from her face. Squinting, she waited for her eyes to adjust to the soft, low indoor lighting. She loved lighting like this. It was so relaxing.
In her mind, Willow knew she didn’t actually know where she was, yet somehow she felt that she did. She felt so calm, at ease, so peaceful, as if she … belonged … here … as if she were … home.
The inside of the cabin was tiny, but even more enchanted than the outside. It was incredibly warm, cozy, and so inviting. Soft piano music seemed to float through the air from somewhere in the background, perfectly synchronized with the crackling of the fire.
In the center of the room, facing the small wood stove, sat a large, heavy, hand-sawn wood-framed rocking chair. In it were large, overstuffed tapestry-covered cushions, in natural earth-tones, with wildlife and evergreen motifs woven into the fabric and trimmed in rich burgundy. Tossed over its back was a soft throw blanket.
At the base of the rocker rested a new pair slippers. Willow blinked back what felt like tears in her eyes. The slippers were Scandinavian ankle boot-style, the exact style and size Willow had always loved and worn. To her, they may as well have been Cinderella slippers.
A quick shiver nudged her back to the reality of the moment. She removed her cape and hung it on a hand-carved wooden hook near the door. Then she sat down on a handmade rustic log bench beside the door and removed her boots, being careful to keep the now melting snow out of the walkway.
Wearing a pair of knee-high Swedish reindeer stockings, Willow padded over to the rocking chair. She sat down and almost disappeared into it. In rustic Cinderella style, she slipped her feet inside the slippers. They fit perfectly. Incredible softness and warmth surrounded her chilly toes.
She twisted around to examine the throw, gently running her hand over it like she was petting a soft kitten. It was thee softest soft she’d ever felt, second only to Genesis. She tossed it over her shoulders, wrapped herself up like in a cocoon, and leaned back into the rocker.
A wooden plaque hung on the wall above the wood stove. Carved into it was a single word…Lagom…Swedish for not too little, not too much.
This was Willow’s word that, for years, she had tried so very hard to live by. Throughout much of her life, she’d had little difficulty with the not too much part, as all too often she had barely enough to live on. She had discovered that it took a great amount of effort and an awful lot of hard work just to survive.
As a soft piano lullaby surrounded her, and the mesmerizing flames danced behind the glass, Willow again she found her eyelids becoming uncontrollably heavy.
She felt as if her body were so warm, cozy and content that she was literally melting into this surreal Christmas card scene.
As she drifted off, snuggled in her dreamy cocoon, she once again entered into the dreamscape. She began to dream that she found herself in a dream where she was dreaming…
In this seemingly endless dreamscape, she could hear a gentle, loving voice quietly whispering her name. It was like a soft whisper on the wind.
Willow awoke and looked around the little rustic room, but saw no one. The large carved door was closed tight.
But she felt a presence, something she hadn’t noticed when she had first arrived. It was a good presence, a kind, loving, comforting presence…as if it guiding her.
Genesis? she whispered. I know I’m here, her mind spoke to itself and to Genesis. I know I’m awake, yet it still feels like I’m in a dream, like I’m watching myself inside my own dream.
Still swaddled in her cocoon, Willow examined the room around her. For the first time, she noticed the large carved trunk centered on the wall to her left. Beside it stood a tiny Christmas tree, just like the one on the porch, but unlit.
She heard it again … the gentle whisper of her name.
Slowly, she unwrapped herself from her cocoon and stood up. Curiously, on quiet slippered feet, she approached the trunk. As she did so, the little tree began to glow. With each step, the lights seemed to become a wee bit brighter, as if to illuminate her path and the trunk itself as she approached.
Willow stood in front of the large trunk. Oh my, this is amazing, she gasped. It looks like…like…a real treasure chest.
The trunk, as the door, was handmade from solid, heavy wood and ornately hand carved. Its design was also the Tree of Life, with sweeping branches stretched around its sides and up over the top. Long tangling roots wrapped and disappeared around the bottom.
Centered on the front, where the lid and trunk body came together, was a clear, ice-like 7-pointed star handle, a miniature of the one on the cabin entry door.
It was a magnificent piece of art. It must’ve taken years to complete. How had she not noticed this?
It reminded her of many memories growing up, where she’d dreamt of having a chest similar to this, a hope chest, made especially for her, by the hands of a great artist. She would use it to carefully protect and store her most beautiful things, special things, magical memories…life’s true treasures.
This one, however, was far superior to anything in her imagination had ever shared with her.
So why was she here? Why was this here? Why was it calling her name? Was this actually hers? Was this to be her very own hope chest she been dreaming of for so long? What could be inside? What secrets does it hold?
Willow could feel her heart beating inside her chest. She knelt down and tested its lid. Surprisingly, the large, heavy lid moved quite easily on heavy silver hinges. She squinted her eyes tightly closed. She lifted it ever so slowly, with growing anticipation of what lay inside. Then slowly she opened her eyes…
The inside of the incredible giant treasure chest was filled with…paper…?
Paper? Seriously…paper… Willow mouthed the word repeatedly and questioningly to herself. She felt the twinge of yet another disappointment. Though she tried to be optimistic, this tended to be the norm in her life.
So paper it was. Tidy, sorted, very organized stacks of white copy paper stared back at her. Stacks upon stacks. Each of the top left corners were paper-clipped together, separating each stack into smaller sections within the stack itself, as in a filing folder held in a filing cabinet.
On the front of each of stack, carefully tucked under the paperclip, was a simple scrap piece of paper on which was written a single date.
Willow’s brows narrowed with concentration. She gently bit her lip as she surveyed the odd discovery.
Instinctively, she reached out her hand to lightly touch the paper, as if it would help her see it more clearly. As she did so, she noticed her hand was trembling a bit. She didn’t know why really. After all, the papers didn’t look scary. She didn’t feel scared. She did feel a little…confused.
Willow paused to look around the cabin. Everything still looked normal. It was still warm and cozy. The fire still crackled happily in the tiny wood stove.
She reached in and picked up the first stack of papers off the top. Again, she ran her fingers over the paper, as if she maybe could soak in some knowledge of what lay inside its pages.
The top page was just a blank white cover sheet. But there was something about the dates on the notes.
Her eyes scanned over the ones she could see laying on the top of the trunk. The dates were … the same … all the same … except for … the year. Each note had a different year written on it. There was something familiar …
Willow, still holding the papers in one hand, let out a small gasp, instinctively covering her mouth with her other hand.
Oh, my goodness! It’s … my … birthday!
Willow shook her head as if to clear it. Then she began carefully rifling through the stacks of papers. They seemed to go deeper and deeper into the trunk, the changing years going further back in time.
Genesis? she whispered again, staring into the wooden trunk. No answer.
Show me, she whispered.
Though she couldn’t see him, she knew Genesis was very near to her. He always was. He had been since the beginning of time. Though often she couldn’t see him, he was only a whisper away. And he was very protective of her.
She noticed what looked like a bit of charcoal ash on the blank cover page in her hands. Instinctively, she gently blew across the page to remove it. Instead, it began to swirl about the page. As she watched, it looked as if the charcoal had been taken up by the invisible hand of an artist. It began to take on the shape of something… The black smudges and lines were turning into … into a … a dragon! Not a beautiful dragon like Genesis. This was an ugly sinister dragon.
A single word formed below the evil creature …
ABANDONED
Willow threw the papers back into the truck, yanked her hand back and held it tight against her body, as if she’d just been burned. She sat frozen, starring into the trunk.
WHAT IS this? her mind raced.
You said, ‘Show me’, came the answer in her mind. ‘You must look inside.’
Now, Genesis was Willow’s guardian angel dragon. He was most magnificent beyond description. His muscles pulsed with the strength of the heavens themselves. So she feared nothing with him beside her.
The problem was, at this moment, Willow couldn’t actually see Genesis beside her. After many years, this was still the hardest part for her.
Yes, she trusted him. Yes, she knew he was there for her. However, she liked it much better when she could physically see and touch him beside her. Because when she couldn’t, her head would try tell her otherwise. Questionable thoughts would try to invade her mind … doubt … fear…
Willow realized she’d been holding her breath. She breathed in deep, held it, then blew it out slowly through pursed lips.
Okay, she said aloud a bit unconvincingly, but trying to sound courageous to herself, to Genesis, as well as to anything that may be in listening in the trunk.
All the while, her mind was second guessing her decision … asking her questions like, What if that message wasn’t actually from Genesis? What if that thought was from someone or something else?
Listen only to my voice. You are chosen, Genesis had told her over and over again.
Listen only to my voice, Willow whispered repeatedly to herself.
As her mind focused and became fixated on the contents of the trunk, it began to shut out everything else in the room.
Sitting on her knees, she leaned forward, and once again picked up the papers. As she looked at the date, and then at the dragon, and then at the word …
she felt her mind begin to fog.
Again, a soft dreamscape formed around her. Once again, she felt as if she was in a continuous dream, inside a dream, in an endless dream. It seemed she could see herself clearly, both consciously and unconsciously.
Though her mind knew she was still in the safety confines of the cabin, she seemed to be watching herself … leave …
Willow watched herself as she got up and walked over to the door. She put on her warm winter clothes … first her boots, then cape, the gloves…
She watched, and felt, her gloved hand reach out, grasp the door knob, open the heavy door, step out onto the wooden porch, and close the door behind her.
Standing on the porch, she looked around the snow-covered yard. Carefully she stepped off the porch, and, with the snow crunching under her feet, made her way across the yard to a covered carport.
Stepping under the carport, Willow saw a car. This was not just any car, but … it was her car … the first little car that she ever owned. It was a little candy-apple-red Dodge Colt. Willow had so loved that little car.
As a child, she had always wanted a red-haired horse, to match her own red hair. She had never been able to have her own horse. So when she got the little red Colt, she had decided it was the next best thing.
Willow now watched herself get inside of her little car. She remembered every little detail of it…the smell, the colors, the upholstery, the dash… The key was in the ignition. She took hold of it. She recognized the feel of it in her hand. She knew the purr of the engine, the vibrations, the whirring of the heater, the glow of lights…everything.
Willow watched as she backed out from under the carport, turned the little red car around, leaving deep tire tracks in the snow, and as she drove away … away from the enchanted Christmas card cabin…
To go … where?
Willow seemed to know where she was going, but at the same time, she didn’t.
The weather was getting worse. It was getting much colder. The wind was picking up. The snow began to blow hard against the car’s windshield, making it difficult to see.
In the distance, she could make out the glow of lights of a city. The little car turned and wove through some residential streets. Finally it came to a stop, pulling up alongside a snow-covered, cracked concrete sidewalk in front of an old rental house.
Willow parked and turned off the engine. She hesitated a moment, not wanting to leave the heated interior of the car. But she knew the warmth wouldn’t last long. So she leaned her shoulder against the inside of the car door and pushed it outward, just as a blast of frigid winter wind fought back to keep it closed.
She stepped out, wrapped her cape tight about her, and walked up the sidewalk to another large covered porch at the front of the house. Instead of stepping up on the porch, she turned sharply to the left.
Following a narrow path alongside the house, she stopped at a beat-up, rickety screen door. The wind ripped at her cape. As she opened the screen door, the sharp creaking of the hinges could be heard over the wind. Standing between it and the stinging windblown snow, she fumbled with the rusty loose doorknob. Holding it in one hand and jiggling the key with the other, the sticking key finally went in and the lock opened.
She cautiously made her way down a few primitive wood steps, closing the door and setting the bolt lock with an echoing thud.
Inside was just like she remembered. Stark, empty, cold…a place no one should be charged so much money to live in.
She stood near the only furnishing in the basement apartment … an old, rundown electric stove stuck against the wall, looking as if it were resurrected from the dump and should go back there.
Across the kitchen was a very narrow doorway leading into a tiny, musty smelling, dark bathroom with no windows or ventilation.
To the right was a doorway leading into the living room area, where a bare lightbulb hung from the discolored ceiling and a small window looked out through cobwebs at the dirt and weeds underneath the covered porch above.
To the right was one more doorway that lead into a bedroom, which had a second window with matching under-the-porch view.
In the event of an emergency, such as a fire, the only exit was the single door at the far end of the basement kitchen.
Willow remembered this place with the same vivid detail as she did her little car; only the feelings, the emotions, that rose up here were far from the same.
This place was one of thee worst, saddest places Willow had ever lived. And she had forgotten about it…until now. She could once again physically feel the past emptiness, hardness, coldness, hunger, poverty, misery…
The apartment had been empty of all furnishings when she lived there, with the exception of a single thin mattress on the bedroom floor.
She remembered him, the lies, the deception, the mind games, the selfishness, the pain both emotionally and physically, the empty words of caring and love that turned out to be completely the opposite…
Willow felt burning deep down in her throat and fought back the urge to vomit. She really didn’t want to go into that dark bathroom.
Standing alone in the living room, Willow suddenly sensed a difference.
She turned her back to the bedroom door and toward the living room again. The lightbulb hanging from the ceiling strangely illuminated a single piece of furniture that hadn’t been there a minute ago.
It was the beautiful ornate trunk from the enchanted cabin. Its beauty sat in stark contrast to the ugly harshness that surrounded it. Yet, somehow, it was supposed to be there.
She stared at the trunk for a few moments. Then she heard it…the sweet whisper of her name…
She walked up to and positioned herself directly in front of the beautiful chest, exactly as she’d done inside the little cabin. In a familiar smooth upward motion, she lifted the lid and propped it against the dirty discolored wall.
She repeated Genesis’ words over and over in her mind…Listen only to my voice. You are chosen.
Then she removed from the trunk the first packet…the one with the word ABANDONED. Carefully she removed the paperclip, the note, the coversheet, placing them in order on the floor beside her.
Under its coversheet were pages filled with lines upon lines of notes…notes of memories long ago, many forgotten, many now vague, some only in bits and pieces..but now all with vivid details sprawling out in long, run-on endless sentences before her…page after page after page after endless page.
Each new packet she picked up went through the same process. Each bore her birthday of a different year. Each conjured up a new evil dragon, the word ABANDONED, which summed up every relationship Willow had ever had throughout her life in this realm, along with a new nasty label.
The more she read…the more thoughts appeared…and the more vivid the details became…
The deeper down in the trunk the pages went, the more disgusting they became, the stronger the stench, as the contents were mildewing and decomposing, and the more vile each dragon became.
As each new dragon reared its ugly head, a new prison bar arose with it. On each bar was etched yet another scathing, scaring label, a summary of all Willow’s failures of that particular year.
Endless … endless … endless … was the flow…of things forgotten long ago.
The skin on her hands was cracked and blackened from the filth and scorched from the heat of the words they held. Sweat poured from every pore of her body. Fever burned within her. Her hair was tangled and matted.
The hurt burned through her mind, heart, and soul. It was so deep, she felt she was dying from the inside.
Mountains of memories were unearthed from their depressing depths, having been buried deep in the dark caverns of her mind of years gone by. All were now being resurrected and forced to the surface like boiling lava exploding from the core of the earth.
A dizzying depression welled up like a tidal wave. Her mind fought to stay focused. The putrid thoughts swirled around her. The darkness was suffocating. Its stench grew like black surfer smoke filling the room until it felt as if it was about to swallow her whole. It felt as if her entire being was being strained to her innermost core.
She felt herself falling…into a prison she was building, with her own hands, though her own thoughts, in her own mind. She felt insanity taking hold.
With all her might, she forced one last thought into her mind…
Genesis…I understand. I listen only to your voice…
_______
Willow awoke to the sound of the happily crackling fire, soft piano music coming from somewhere in the background, wrapped in her cozy cocoon, in the overstuffed rocking chair, in the tiny cabin.
Her cape hung on the hook near the heavy tree-of-life carved door. Her boots, now dry, stood underneath her cape.
Willow squeezed her eyes tightly closed, then quickly opened them again. Everything looked the same. She was back! Oh, how thankful she was to be back in the little enchanted cabin!
She pulled her hands out from the blanket and looked at them. Her skin was soft, clean, light and freckled. She reached up and touched her face. Her skin felt fresh, clean, dry. She touched her hair. It was clean, soft and silky. Never had cleanliness felt so amazing.
She turned to look at the large ornate trunk. There it was, perfectly in position, where it had been for many years, since the day of its completion by the master artist’s hand.
She heard Genesis’ rhythmic breathing coming from the floor beside her chair. Looking down, she found his majestic form, from head to tail, completely encircling the chair she lay in…like the circle around the Tree-of-Life.
My dragon, my guardian, my guide, my best friend…she thought as she looked at him. Thank you.
Carefully, in reindeer stocking feet, she stepped over him. She quietly padded over to the massive trunk. Kneeling in front of it, she wrapped her arms around it as far as she was able in a heartfelt hug.
Willow understood now.
Willow said a silent prayer of thanks. Happy tears of joy streamed down her cheeks. She was sooo happy to be home.
She began listing all the things she was thankful for. With this focus, she was surprised to find her list was now endless.
You learned well, my daughter. I’m proud of you, Genesis said, looking up at her with a beaming smile. This was your most difficult journey.
The mind is powerful. It is the only thing that can speak to and examine itself.
Trials are part of travel through this realm. Lessons learned are hidden treasures buried deep within. We’re to save the lesson and remove the trash. For our mind to activate the power of the lesson, it must continually review it. The more this is done, the more life in the lesson.
Great problems arise when no lesson is learned, so only the trash is saved. The mind will review and activate whatever we store inside it.
Willow nodded knowingly. She could see so clearly the vision as Genesis explained. She ran her hand over the trunk in front of her thoughtfully.
Genesis continued… The mind is like this trunk. Wherever you move, you take it with you. As you journey into the future, you will be guided by part of your past. What you choose to save from the past guides where you travel in the future.
Just as this little cabin needs daily cleaning and maintenance, so do our minds. We can’t store trash deep inside ourselves without it having dire consequences.
Now…open it one more time… Genesis gestured to the trunk.
Willow big green eyes beamed with excitement. Slowly, with optimistic anticipation, she opened the majestic top. Its intricate detail looked even more amazing to her on this day.
All the papers were gone, along with the memories they had held for so long. Out came the aroma of fresh new cedar. The inside was now filled to the brim with the most magical memories, enchanted Christmases, and wonders beyond Willow’s wildest imagination…
Across the inside of the huge lid was hand carved a single word:
CHOSEN
On the very top of all the treasures lay thee most beautiful book that has ever been, designed and created by the master artist himself. Its wooden cover was cut and crafted from a single piece of wood born of the Tree-of-Life itself. Each page was hand planed from its wood thin as paper.
On the cover was a single hand-carved word:
CHOSEN
Willow hugged Genesis and squealed,
I want to live in this enchanted Christmas cabin with you forever.
This is what I’ve always dreamt a real home feels like, a forever home.
Genesis laughed and answered,
You’re chosen. You’re home. This is your forever home.
And forever banned was the word ABANDONED from her realm.
You have not given me a spirit of fear, but your spirit of power, love, a sound mind ~ II Timothy 1:7