Spiritual Autobiography 15

I returned from Europe August 14, 1991, age 35. I had a lot of work ahead of me with the two old women (ages, 47 and 63, it's all relative). We were all living together in the farm house in Richmond by October, when the protegee and sometimes lover of the younger woman decided to trash Shiloh House and it became unlivable. The younger old woman was extremely bitter and resentful that we had ruined her ministry. Thus began the difficult and long process of learning to be a community while we are already entering the death throws of our ministry. I found part-time work in home support and the younger older woman followed suit with the same organization, making us colleagues on yet another level. We all coped as best we could but the conflict and tension wasn't doing any of us a lot of good. This went on for another three years, finishing in a house we had to move to in Southeast Vancouver. We still continued providing a Christian presence in the same places downtown. We continued reaching out to people in need. We no longer had overnight guests as too many had abused our hospitality, though the younger older woman still wanted us to keep doing this and would often have meltdowns and temper tantrums when we ruled against her. We were still with the Anglican Church and still usually at St. James as well as visiting other parishes. The younger older woman moved out in August 1994. I had already been to Costa Rica in late June and early July, where I had a fresh meeting with God in Monteverde, knowing that my life direction was soon to change. After the younger old woman left, a very unhappy and dysfunctional man in his early thirties took her place and drove us crazy: a spoiled rich kid with a huge sense of entitlement. He left in February and was replaced by a humbler, friendlier and more house-broken fellow who actually stayed with us for that final year of our community. On November 9, 1995, age 39, my change of name was legally approved, and ever since that date I have been legally Aaron Benjamin Zacharias, just a week before the Old Woman was approved for a seniors'affordable apartment in a renovated mansion next door to St. James. We all went our separate ways on the cusp of my fortieth birthday. I found a small eastside apartment that I could hardly afford, since the workplace had changed during my eight years in community and I was not able to cope. During this time in August 1996 I had an angelic visitation. I was going through dental problems with etreme toothache pain and no resources for dental treatment or effective pain relief. While I was sleeping I had this nightmare about entering through the gates of Babylon and being surrounded by caucaphony and chaos when I woke from the dream into a vision. There was a beautiful young man with huge dark eyes full of depth and light and golden curly hair and high cheekbones dressed in a white robe sitting before me on my bed. He said, you are troubled, tell me all that is troubling you. So I told this beautiful youth everything about my life, from infancy to the current moment, and I felt relieved and cleansed. Then I asked him, who are you. and he replied with a ittle smile, you think I am twenty-two? and then I said, no, you are older, much older than that, and I saw a number of eighty thousand years. I clung to him crying, please don't leave me, don't ever leave me. The vision ended, I was back in Babylon, then just sleeping peacefully. When I awoke that morning I went into a trance and saw all the planets evenly aligned from the sun then I heard the angel's voice speaking to me, "You can never get far from me. I am with you always." I woke up weeping. That same day in the library downtown not even looking for it, I found a book about angelic visitations. I took it home and read it and it totally confirmed my experience as authentic. I was also for the next two weeks in an incredibly heightened and joyous state. I spent the next two and a half years struggling to find enough employment to pay rent, sometimes getting help from welfare, sometimes not able to eat properly, while struggling to promote and market my paintings. I also spent time in the spoken word community, publicly reading my poem cycles to very positive reception. But it was clear that all the pressures, stresses and traumas I had been through, including many, many deaths, had left their impact. I was traumatized and exhausted. Unable to pay my rent, I lost my apartment and spent most of the next year homeless.