Here’s a small taster from my book, it’s unedited and a bit ropey but it will give you an idea about what it’s like.
I walked down towards the old market, now at the end of the day in the sunset. The deserted colourful market awnings that hung in front of the old sun-bleached tables fluttered in the gentle breeze like large children’s kites tamed by wooden poles on each side.
There was a large man sitting by one of the fruit stalls looking at me approach. The sunlight behind him glowed and while any other man would be silhouetted by the sun it was as if the sun was shining right through him, like he was made of glass. I sheltered my eyes as I drew closer, meaning to walk on past him without staring at this bulky figure slumpd on the path, cross legged. His sheer size made me think that he must be a gladiator but his face was kind and welcoming not one that would be associated with fighting or war.
“Go down to the dessert road, the one that leads to Gaza.” He called out in a monotone that reminded me of a river rushing over rocks, powerfully flowing yet the same pitch.
“Excuse me?” I said.
“I said, go down to the desert road, the one that leads to Gaza.” Again I heard his words but this time I felt them more, they rushed through me like water would fall between your fingers as you scoop to drink from your hands. Each word fell through my very being and I felt this deeply within me rather than upon the surface of my skin.
I tried to look into his face where he sat but squinted, holding up my hand to shield me from his countenance. His face shone, with gold flecks mixed in with his brown flesh of his rugged face and while I saw stubble and some small scars it was clear that this man really wasn’t a man at all. He opened his mouth and with each word bright light shone from his mouth as if a small fire must have been blazing deep within:
“I’ve been sent to instruct you to leave right now, down to the desert road.”
And with that he stood from crouching down. He was enormous yet his height didn’t frighten me and as he reached out his hand towards me rather than stepping back I somehow instinctively stepped forward to receive what he needed to give me. I lifted my head to look up towards his face. His hand on my shoulder sent a burning sensation down the right side of body. Each burning was like a pulse of a heart and with each one power filled me and as it did I bravely stared deeply into his eyes.
What I saw within his brown and gold eyes were mysteries and other lands and a kindness of the Father that I had seen when Jesus breathed upon me and spoke of my call as an evangelist. His eyes carried sadness, like the eyes of an older man who has seen too much pain, yet they also looked like the eyes of a newborn child, seeing for the first time deeply innocent and drinking in the environment. He didn’t say another word as he stood with his hand upon my shoulder. He didn’t need to rather I knew that it was futile to argue about going rather all I needed to do was simply obey his instruction.
Then I thought of Sarah and like a thump to the stomach that winds, the thought took the powerful encounter and changed it into a deep pain in my chest.
Surely I couldn’t leave her again, I dropped my gaze from his and looked down at my dusty feet. The ground around the market stall was littered with bits of rotten fruit trodden deeply into the dust, making colourful smears around my feet from the day’s trading mixed with rotten splodges from previous days.
I looked up again to ask how I would be able to leave Sarah and go, but no one was there. He had gone.