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Prophetic Endurance

Le Petit Prince

I used to deliver papers for the night shift, and met a good many people and characters. It was a small comfort that Walt Disney had once done the same. I thought of it as my prophetic territory, and it extended for the last three out of ten years from Hill Tout to McKenzie. I would travel through the night, and deliver as many as 200-300 papers. It was a job I took for over a decade, and working with the media was fast-paced and helped me move up in the job market. I eventually got the position of assistant manager at the depot in Mission and was there doing paperwork and the redelivers for over a year. It was watching the skies for rain among our motley crew, trading paper delivery skills, or venting while they swore and smoked that kept me aware I had to be street smart and not so perfectionistic. No newspaper carrier can stay a perfectionist; delivering in rain and up to two feet of snow, alone in the middle of the night is not work for the thin-skinned. I wore second-hand clothes, or old jeans that would eventually get torn. They were my sackcloth so to speak. It taught me patience, because that is the virtue most needed to be successful at working the night shift seven days a week for ten years. 

Some of my customers would get up in the middle of the night to get their papers, some of them would wait for me to tell me I made their day. At Christmastime I would get a hundred Christmas cards and usually half my earnings in tips. It made ends meet and helped me carry on my other job during the day, for which I made little pay. I was a professional writer and my books did not sell enough to pay the bills. I only wrote them as an obsession, somewhat like my addiction to newsprint, the smell of ink, and the new stories each day. I liked to think I knew everything at one o'clock in the morning. 

The sky by morning was a coloured streak of light. It was by delivering my metaphor of the "Good News" that I became aware that it is bad protocol to read people's mail in the prophetic. People are getting more and more able to come up with other people's real or contrived personal information, and call it the prophetic. This form of divination I strongly discourage, as it is invasive to people's privacy. If I opened someone's mail in their mailbox instead of giving them the news, I would be arrested. 

In the 80's and 90's it was considered, in the prophetic gifts, an admirable feat to "read someone's mail". This is how it was referred to. They also got impressions and they were related to different body parts, and involved announcing the word to the congregation in the ministry time at the end of the service. If someone identified with the symptom or disease mentioned, they could come up and get prayer. Usually the word was just an excuse to pray for the real emotional issue, and so that people could get met at a heart level, and feel Jesus cared for them. But this is a new time, where we are to use the Bible to deliver the word. Speaking the truth in love, we grow people into maturity using prophetic signs that confirm we are in the center of God's will, positive images, and metaphors or word pictures. 

In the middle of the night, there was an old pilot who used to watch the skies. He would sit out all night, and knew the plane routes, from a website he had. I would talk to him as he stayed up to get his paper, sometimes at 3 in the morning. I think he had even flown in the war. One night I asked him if he had ever seen a UFO. I had been seeing something strange in the mornings that flew over Abbotsford. It looked like a circular disk with lights and could move back and forth, in directions a plane could not. He said he had been watching one every night for a year, traversing over the Abbotsford skies--about the same time I moved to Abbotsford. He had taken a few photos, but his sister had seen it in Langley and taken a photo, so I started taking photos too. You would think this would sound strange, but if there is a realm where UFO's are visible, who would be able to see them? I hired an Indo-Canadian boy who was disabled to help me, and he could entertain you for hours on end, by making up malarkey and seeing if you believed him, then laughing uproariously. It was the funniest thing if you took him seriously, but he thought this was a good job. He could also see the flying object. That was what made me think it wasn't just me.

I began to think it was the Little Prince. But I resigned my position over six months ago now, and am not outside at night. It seems, the only ones who noticed it appear over Abbotsford were an old pilot with two missing fingers, a disabled newspaper girl and a disabled Indo-Canadian teenager. 


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