Chapter 24- The Big Finish

Yay! I made it. I know you're all busy getting ready for Christmas, traveling, running around doing great things for people and probably don't even have time to check in today, but in case you do, in case you be broken-hearted if I don't get this post up, I finally got a chance to break away and pull this scene together.

It was fun chatting last night on Twitter. We'll have to do it again. I feel like we chat every day here on the blog. But live back and forth is a different experience. Let me know if you're interested and I'll schedule another live Tweet.

Tomorrow will be my last post before Christmas. I hope you're all getting ready for a wonderful holiday.  I'll be back next Monday, December 27th--but we'll discover Aunty Jaz together tomorrow, before I leave you.

MICHAEL’S DIVE LOG – VOLUME 10

Dive Buddy: Leesie           

Date:  06/18

Dive #:

Location: Grand Cayman

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Comments:

            Leesie wants one of those blessings things like her dad and Jaron did back in the hospital before I take  her to Aunty Jaz’s. All the sudden she’s moving in with a sick old lady. Aunty Jaz's fish shack was my dad’s favorite place to eat on the island. A dump from the outside, but the best fish—spicy and moist. It’s sad she had to close the place. The woman’s a perfect stranger to Leesie. But the way her and Pres. X talk about Aunty Jaz, she really is an aunty. Sister this and Brother that. I got sort of used to that when I was in Provo before Christmas last year, but it still sounds weird. Especially, Brother Walden. That sounds the weirdest of all.

            I don’t mind slowing down. Making sure Leesie thinks this through. If this blessing gives her a chance to do that cool. I’m curious to watch it again.

            Pres. X invites a second dude to join us. This guy is short, sunburned, mostly bald with a buzzed blonde fringe. He smiles at Leesie, runs his hand over his head. “I like your 'do.” He speaks with a British accent. He and Pres X make quite the odd couple.

            “This is Bro. Y.” Pres. X’s eyes rest on my face. “He’ll assist.”

            Bro. Y has a silver cylinder on his key chain just like Jaron did. I feel totally useless. If he was here, he could do this for Leese—instead of these strangers—brothers or not.

            Bro. Y opens the cylinder. “This is olive oil, like they had at the time of Christ, that has been consecrated”—he notices the puzzled frown creasing my forehead—“blessed for the healing of the sick.”

            “She isn’t sick.”

            Bro. Y and Pres. X stand on either side of Leesie’s chair. Pres. X grasps the back of it. “Physically, she is well. But spiritually . . . ”

            Leesie whispers, “I’ve got a long way to go.” She closes her eyes.

            “Can I stay?”

            “Please do, Brother Walden.”

            Bro. Y puts a drop of oil on Leesie’s head. He and Pres. X place their hands on her head, too. Bro. Y says a few rapid words I don’t catch, their hands lift off her head a beat and then rest down again.

            “Leesie Marie Hunt.” Pres. X’s rich Caymanian accent fills the room. “By the power of the Holy Melchezedick priesthood which we hold, we place our hands on your head and give you a blessing. . . . ”

            The rest is intimate, personal, holy. I don’t feel right writing it down. I couldn’t if I tried. He blessed her with health, strength, and the power to conquer temptation. Does that mean me or just sinning with me? I get a strong impression that it doesn’t mean me.

            He says stuff about the accident and Phil. Her family loving her. God loving her.

            And then he says, “You’ve found the love of a valiant son of God. Cherish that love. Build upon it. Eternal happiness can be yours.” My first thought is he’s talking about Jaron. Dump this jerk and get home to your destiny. Then a powerful force hits me in the heart, and I know that it’s me. Pres. X is calling me that. A son of God. Valiant. Me?

            I don’t recall anything else in the blessing after that.

Leesie can be eternally happy with me? I didn’t think that was possible. I thought I was against all the rules—even if we got married.

            I can’ t marry you if you’re not a Mormon. How many times has that echoed in my mind since I proposed the first time, and she threw my ring back at me? That’s not fair. She cried. It hurt her as much as it hurt me.

            What’s changed now?

            What’s so different?

            That power speaking to my heart whispers--

            You.