Faith IV

If you missed them, check out Faith I, Faith II, and Faith III

He unbuttoned the cuff of his dress shirt protruding from his jacket sleeve, then rolled both up to his elbow, presenting his bare forearm. An array of gashes colored his skin in red, the layout identical to my previous self-harm. I extended a finger from our persisting handshake to alight on the nearest laceration. The texture was an exact replica to mine.

“What is this?” I asked in horror.

“This is a father finally protecting his son, rather than a master sacrificing his prodigy.”

He pulled away while I remained frozen, dumbfounded. The concoction of solace and horror churned in my stomach. The abrupt love and loss of a father within the span of minutes was more than any mortal could be asked to handle. Any other human in this moment would succumb to grief. Yet I needed to be more. God needed me to be more.

He had marched halfway to the formidable door before my wits returned. I rushed after him, clung to his arm, and fell to my knees. Remorse from deep within crept to the surface and, bowed at my father’s feet, I wept, my remorse inconsolable.

“This is my sin. I deserve to be punished,” I pleaded.

“I now bear the scars. The burden is mine.” He brushed his fingers through my hair. “Someone has to be punished for this and now someone will be.”

“Let that someone be me."

“You always have to be the one to make sacrifices, Jesus. Isn’t it about time someone made a sacrifice for you?”

Disarmed by his resolve, my clutch dropped away and I collapsed before him, too contrite to speak. My sobs prevented any intake of air and my vision spotted.

God remained standing beside my lamenting heap despite my lost hold on him. With my eyes closed, I could still sense his presence.

Once my thoughts formed into words once more, I asked, “What am I supposed to do? Where do I go?”

“That’s up to you.”

A creak elsewhere in the room prompted me to lift my head. In the back of the courtroom, where the spectators would enter and exit, the door swung wide. I spotted distant greenery and sunshine through the opening and recognized the phenomenons that could only be present on Earth. Another sound shifted my attention to the door behind the judge’s bench, the entrance in which God had come. The brilliance shining into the room, a light with a life of its own, was the celestial signature known only to heaven. The blackened, ominous entrance to hell opened last, but this was not for me. This would be my father’s departure.

My legs were too unsteady to support me so God hoisted me to my feet. Once upright, I cast my arms around him. Setting aside all divine dignity, he embraced me back, pressing his cheek against the top of my head. I buried myself in his broad shoulder, my tears soaking into his jacket, savoring this first and last moment of intimacy. The warmth that emanated from him was more soothing than any mortal could ever imagine. For this glorious, endless instant, God truly allowed himself to be a father and I was his son.

“Thank you,” I breathed.

With this, he unfolded himself from my arms and started toward the darkness. He only gained two steps before my heart shattered at the sight.

“Wait." Calm and at peace, he paused for my sake. I approached him with my head and shoulders bowed. “I know it won’t make a difference, but I think I’m ready to repent now.”

A small, doting smile teased at his lips as he placed a hand on my shoulder. “And I will gladly receive it.”

Allowing his touch to guide me down, I knelt before him, slumping in defeat, the burden of corruption finally proving too much to carry. I truly understood how unworthy I was to be in the presence of this being, and yet he never treated me as such. He was saving me, whether I deserved it or not. I longed to disintegrate into nothing. I wanted my unimportant existence to no longer trouble my father. All problems were of my making, yet he volunteered to pay the price. No words would soften my guilt, but words were all I had.

“Dear heavenly father, I confess to my sins. You set a promising path before me and I refused to follow it. I receive you into my heart and I ask that you cleanse me from unrighteousness.”

When I showed no intention of rising, he hooked beneath my arms and stood me up level with him once more. Ensuring that my eyes locked with his, he pronounced, “All is forgiven.”

The profound honesty and graciousness in that gaze captivated me. His astounding ambience of goodness could somehow convince me that all was well. His forgiveness dissipated much of my misery. He was saving me in more ways than one.

Caught up in the contentment that he granted me, I vaguely noticed my father kneeling to the ground in front of me.

“What are you doing?”

Settling onto his knees, he said, “Repenting of my sins.”

I scooped under his arms in the same fashion he had raised me up, but his sturdy, powerful form would not be swayed by the likes of me. I continued to object with words, “You don’t have any sins. You’re not capable of sinning.”

“Yes, I am. You made me see that.” He pulled my fumbling hands away and clasped them in his. The God of all creation groveled at my feet. “You were right. I may have fulfilled my plans for the whole of humanity but I neglected to think about you. I failed to be your father.”

 He released my hands so he could further lower himself, and confessed, “I failed you. And if you can find it in your heart, I beg for your forgiveness.”

I brushed away my tears, though a new stream swiftly replaced them. Since I was incapable of standing him up, I dropped down to join him. My mind exploded with words, but my mouth would shape none of them into being. I simply observed the journey of teardrops that mirrored my own, carving a shimmering, breathtaking path down the face of God.

Sensing my inability to talk, he asked nothing of me. He cradled my cheeks in the immense softness of his palms and said, “You may have lost faith in me, but I will never stop believing in you.”

He placed a small kiss on my forehead before climbing to his feet. His majesty and might were more pronounced than ever. He held his head high and faced the blackened oblivion with pride and fearlessness. He hesitated only a second at the opening.

I finally regained my voice when he was a step away from vanishing forever. I managed, “Goodbye, Father.”

Despite the fact that it only came out as a pitiful whisper, he heard. With his undefinable, thunderous timbre, he said, “Goodbye, my son.”

His last footfall crossed the threshold and the swirling darkness curled around him. The tendrils cloaked him in their wispy, predatory grasp, bit by bit, until his silhouette melded into it, indistinguishable. Pleased with the offering, the doorway shut itself with a satisfied crack, sealing my father away from me for the rest of eternity.

I sprawled on the floor and doubled over, the pangs in my stomach unbearable. As my sobs echoed back to me from the wood surfaces of the chamber, they sounded alien, detached from my existence. I was supposed to be the one gone, and every twinge of pain, every sound, every tear seemed unreal. I was not meant to be.

A droplet alighted on my wrist and cruelly yanked me from my sorrowful revery. The tiny bead of water slid down the thew of my pristine forearm, untouched by the slashes that should have been there. My father had granted me a second chance and I was choosing to wallow in the impossibility of it.

The remaining two doors still stood open for me, different degrees of light pouring onto the hardwood from both. My future resided behind one of them, but I had no idea what that future would hold for me. If I went back to heaven, I could be ruler due to my father’s absence. Or I could be shunned by the heavenly host for my misdeeds. If I returned to Earth, humanity may still refuse to accept me. Even with my father’s sacrifice worth it, there was no guarantee that anything about the universe had truly changed. With God gone, there was no one left to promote goodness.

A fresh determination seized me. No matter my decision, the one element I was set upon proving was that his sacrifice was not in vain.

I pushed onto my feet, and marched toward my new home.

© 2020 by Kelsey Garber