HAD IT REALLY HAPPENED? THAT NIGHT AT ELEVEN forty-five Brandon sat alone in the corner of his Dallas hotel room, the only light coming from the small lamp on the desk in front of the mirror, the night flashing through his head, part of him wanting to come down from the rush of what had happened, part of him wanting to live in it forever. Part of him freaked out by what he’d seen and wanting to pretend it hadn’t happened, part of him astonished at the power of God.
His cell phone rang and he picked it up, willing it to be Reece. He glanced at the caller ID. Yes. Brandon turned on his Bluetooth, slipped it over his ear, and answered.
“How are you?”
“Freaked. Thrilled. Mind blown. Stunned by what the Spirit did, and feeling everything else you can imagine.”
“That was a wild ride.”
“Actually, I’m a lot freaked.” Brandon sat again and tapped his foot on the carpet triple time as the images of the vine filled his mind. “That . . . that . . . that thing . . .”
“Relax, bud.”
“I am relaxed.”
“Good. Talk to me.”
Brandon scratched his head through his thick blond hair. “When you said my eyes would be opened, I didn’t think you meant I was going to see so vividly.”
“Uh, yeah, I could see the vines.”
“Could you see us?”
“Like the best holographs I’ve ever seen. Only better.”
“Amazing,” Reece said, more to himself than to Brandon. “So when I turned and yelled at you, you heard me?”
“I didn’t hear you, but it wasn’t hard to read your lips,” Brandon said. “This night will be a turning point for me. I feel like I’m back and farther down the road than I’ve ever been.”
Reece went silent.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“I’d love to say it’s over for you. But it’s not.”
“You mean the vine? You destroyed it.”
“That one. Yes. But there will be others. At every concert.”
“What are you saying? That vine has attacked me before?”
“Many, many times. Just because you haven’t been able to see it before now doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.”
“I think I’m going to barf. That thing has shot into me like it did into Anthony?”
“Think, Brandon, what was your bass player’s reaction when it entered into him?”
Brandon replayed the scene in his mind and it made him sweat. “Pleasure. He liked it.”
“Yes. Have you asked yourself why?”
“Not until now.”
“It’s a critical question.”
“It gave him something. But it was evil.”
“Think about where the vine started. Where did that vine come from?” Reece said.
“The people.”
“Yes. Man was made to worship. And the enemy will twist that desire till the object of their adoration slides away from God and lands on someone they can more easily taste, touch, and feel. And there is a part of all of us that is hungry for that sort of admiration.”
Brandon swallowed. So true. He’d often feasted from that table.
“You have to know who you are, Brandon. The enemy will constantly try to make you forget, which leads to the need for adoration and the praise of man.”
“Who am I?”
“A king. An emperor. Unlike Maximus, you lived. And now you must live in who you are.”
“Me. A king? No. Musician, yes, king, no.”
“You are a king, Brandon. Your audience is your kingdom. Your band number among the ones you have been called to lead. You have been called to war for them. You must battle for them in the heavens. Now you know your name. But knowing your name is never enough. You have to learn to live in it.”
Brandon listened to the hum of the phone as Reece’s words seeped into his heart and he considered their implications. “I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”
“You don’t have to be. Your training and healing and freedom are far from complete.”
“What’s next?”
“Can you be at my house this coming Sunday evening?”
“Sure. For what?”
“We’re going after Marcus.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I’ve been seeking God on what’s next, and I believe on Sunday night the Spirit wants to take us into the soul of the professor.”