Eighty-Five

Once,
Friends seemed far away and those who were near seemed unfeeling and uncaring. The job to which I was committed seemed to set off my weaknesses in sharp relief. The values which so recently had seemed dazzling now appeared, upon closer inspection, tarnished and meaningless. The world in which I lived lay deep in its own mire of deceit. My eyes swept life as I knew it, in bottomless disappointment. And so I rejected it. I decided to turn my back on this futile world and try to find life's meaning elsewhere. I stepped outside the world's fence and vowed to be blind to it for as long as I would live.

I went looking for God.

I wandered and I searched. I prayed and meditated. Unencumbered with the pulls and pains of my old world, I felt light and free; I searched for my God. I grew apprehensive, and doubt seeped in, for I could not find him.

Then,
I glanced over the fence I had so firmly rejected. I saw again the futile, faithless world. And there, deep in the midst of the pain stood God, talking, listening, and holding a dying child in his arms. He looked at me. I saw that to find him, to get close to him, I would have to re-enter the world I'd found so worthless. I'd have to make my way through all that I'd rejected if I were to meet God. I felt deep anguish as I stood by the fence. His eyes were upon me, and he saw my heavy heart, and his eyes never left me.