I am going to tell you that this story is a work of fiction.
You shouldn’t believe everything you read.
The year was 2019 and Donald Trump was in office. I lived near the city of Portland, OR and have spent 95% of my life in the area. Political tensions were high and every weekend in the summer seemed like a powder keg according to the news. It was the month of June.
My life was going nowhere. I’m not a very sociable person and I spent most of my life outside of work going to movies and passing time. I was living with a roommate at the time but we didn’t really know each other all that well.
I had just started to pay attention to political items in 2017 but didn’t really understand what was happening around me. Cable news channels were my main form of information intake. The news had me worked up to the point that if I thought of wearing a MAGA hat in the world that the beatings would commence.
That’s when I was given a vision. It was given to me in an instant that buckled my legs and fell to the floor in tears. This was an unbreakable contract between me and my Maker and it was completely my choice. The first option presented was I could ignore the directions given and I would remain nothing, however, part of the vision was falling victim to a disease and dying a slow agonizing death. The directions given were straightforward and specific. I was to put on a MAGA hat on the third Sunday of August at approximately noon and walk by myself from The Oregon Museum of Science & Industry to the Fox Tower and watch a movie and then walk back. This was also accompanied by a vision of my death by imaginary opposing forces. I was instructed that it had to be me because of who I am.
I had been tasked with something I did not want to do. The next week was spent in prayer and reading Scripture. Surely, this is some fantasy and God does not really give visions to mortals any more. I had active conversations with something, or someone, over the next week. I can only describe it as a form of telepathy but I’m kind of an idiot so maybe that’s not the best description. I didn’t tell anyone about the task for a while.
This was to be a test of my faith.
I came to the conclusion that if my sacrifice could bring about any amount of healing to the city of Portland it was worth committing to the task at hand. I was told to bring a witness to trail behind by about 50 feet and for that I asked my father to be that person. I asked him to go on a camping trip for an overnighter where I could discuss my plan away from my mother who worries about such things a little too much. We went through old family photos, discussed family history and then I put forth my plan. My father, a real man of God, raised no objections and just said that if this is what is required of me that he would be glad to be by my side. I had only told him what he needed to know for his role and much of this story will be a surprise to him when he reads it.
A few days after I decided that I would complete this task the largest scheduled rally with the Proud Boys and Antifa was scheduled for the day before. Violence was expected. Every major network was going to be there. That’s when the fear really began.
I am not an adventurous person. I don’t take risks. I don’t try hard at anything. I’ve given up on way more things than I have completed. For some reason this was inescapable
I made my plans. I bought a bump cap for my hat. Had an extra hat in case someone snatched the one I was wearing. I wrote the Scripture reference for John 15:13 inside the bill of the MAGA hat and made my peace that I was in God’s hands and following His will, even if I didn’t understand why it needed to happen.
I chose the movie we were going to see and it was Blinded By the Light at the Fox Tower at about 12:30. The walk was just over a mile in one direction through downtown Portland. I was glued to the TV the day before and my anxiety was high. There was some violence, I remember a dumpster smashing someone between the dumpster and an iron gate, but it was not to the level expected. The media seemed to be cheering for a carnival of violence.
The next day my father picked me up and we proceeded to drive to OMSI. I donned my cap and we were off.
The city was quiet. Real quiet. It’s as if the city tuckered itself out and they were all sleeping late. The walk was uneventful. The movie was mediocre. We walked back together. There wasn’t a single time throughout the day that anyone even mentioned anything about the hat. Was this a waste of time? What was going on?
Things were not as they appeared. That was the lesson I had to learn first hand. This was only the first step into something much larger for me.
The real vision was yet to come.
(Part 2: Very soon)