Scanning the skies (Jesus and me (2))

Much of my childhood was either spent in  tandem with my grandparents or in relative isolation - with my books. I sought, to a certain extent, solitude and found it as often as I wished.

In stark contrast to my brother, the outdoorsman, athlete and music adept, I found home turf in the world that only exists in our imaginations. I seldom would voluntarily venture outside our front yard, most often only when walking to and from school. And apart from our holidays and visits to relatives e.g., on ordinary weeekdays my attention would gravitate towards letters; letters that make up sentences, sentences that make up paragraphs, paragraphs that make up chapters, chapters that make up books, books that make up cosmoses of fact and fiction.

I would feel at home there, as nothing would usually threaten to sever the ties to the imaginary or real, past or prest or future worlds that I could visit at will. In my mind I was the great explorer of ancient cultures, the divulger of untold secrets, the distiller of truths that had hitherto escaped humanity. What I could not, or dared not, attempt in the real, outside world, I was here at total liberty to pursue and attain. And so my daydreams became the drugs that kept me afloat, the escapist highway where I would roam free and unfettered.

THE WORLDS I KNEW

Dinosaurs, the distant galaxies and alien life forms. Those were some of my cherished past-time pet interests. Whenever or wherever I could lay my hands on information, in books or articles, I would soak it all up like the insatiable knowledge-sponge that I was. Too much was never enough, as my curiosity could apparently never be overcharged or overstimulated. Learning something new meant new wood to the fire, which would burn as intensely by day and as by night.

I particularly remember one author, one Erich von Däniken. This Austrian (I believ) has for decades been somewhat of a beacon and source of inspiration, to those - like me back in the 70s - who feel this inexplicable pull towards the mysteries pertaining to the field of extra terrestrial life. It was through his books that I first became familiar with the Hebrew prophet Ezekiel of the Old testament. In von Däniken's opinion, the strange visions Ezekiel had by the Chebar Canal in the year 621 BC, which he later would chronicle in the book that bears his name, were actually recordings of aliens visiting earth.


Von Däniken's speculations were priceless gems to my inquisitive mind, and in a definite way fuelled my search for meaning in a universe that at the time didn't provide much in the way of fulfillment or sense of security. Scanning the skies and progressively learning more about the vast cosmos we inhabit, also drove me towards hours of contemplation: there must be life out there. It's illogical to presume differently.

WORKING BEHIND THE SCENES

My grandmother and grandfather on my mother's side were both Christian, and from them I got a children's Bible before the age of ten. But apart from that, and the brushes with Church that happened trivially and regularly each Christmas, the input from God seemed scarce and haphazard. But each drop of truth, each little glimpse of reality beyond my humdrum existence, was in fact a solid step towards what would transpire later in life, age 16. And behind the scenes all throlugh those years, forces were conspiring to bring about change, as it were, as prayer upon prayer would go up to God on my behalf.

I don't know what my grandparentæs knew about my search for truth, but as they certainly were aware of my loneliness and troubles, they were probably very concerned about their chubby little grandchild. And without behaving intrusively or coercively, they cared for me the best way they knew how: by praying that I would someday come to contentment and faith in Christ.

It took years before their prayers were answered. But in the meantime God would exploit my craze for Star Trek or Star Wars, and push me towards the point where I was ready to respond.