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“Surething.”
WhenIreturn my attention toEvan, his gaze is still locked on me.I’mnot sure he even acknowledgedSarah.
Hiseyes roam down my body and across my face, assessing me carefully.Ican see the internal push and pull.
Ilean closer and whisper. “Idon’t bite, andIhave no one to tell your secrets to.Ican see you need to unload, so use me.I’msafe.”
Thereis a long pause as he considers telling me something, anything.Heis stubborn and so full of life and possibility that it hurts.Ithurts because it is so far from the reality of my existence.Hereminds me thatI’mslipping away and detaching myself from this world.Somehow, he has drawn me in, like a bee to nectar, starved for his extreme emotions, and a soul that is so alive and full of vigor even if he is rife with turmoil.
“I’mnot whoIshould be inGod’seyes.Imean…I’mtrying to be.”
Inarrow my eyes at him. “Andwho doesGodwant you to be?”
Heblinks for what feels like the first time and looks out the window. “Normal.Wife, kids…”
“Whatis normal?Idon’t have those things.Doesthat make me abnormal?”
“No,Ididn’t mean to imply that.”Heis quick to apologize.
“ThewayIsee it, all of us are different, individual, and possess unnatural tendencies of one sort or another.”Pickingup the small square container on the table,Idump out the sugar packets.Iturn it upside down and knock it across the table.Itlands between us. “Let’ssay that is normal.”
“What?”
“Thiscontainer represents everything that is normal.Wherein relation to normal isGod?”
Heblinks at me and furrows his brow. “He’severywhere.”
“DoesGodhave a wife and kids?”
Hesmirks at me. “Hehas aSon.”
“Througha marriage?”
“Wellno.Jesuswas born toMary, a virgin who was betrothed toJoseph.”
“Anotherman’s intended.”
Heis smiling now. “Thisis absurd.”
“Isit?Seemsto me,Goddoesn’t fit into that normal box,”Isay pointing to the container.
“ButHeisGod, andHiscommandments…”
“Yes, and what aboutJesus’sforgiveness and sacrifice?”
Theconfidence leaves his demeanor. “Youknow about this stuff?”
Ibark out a laugh. “Knowit?”Iwonder how he would react to knowing only 345 years separateJesusand me.ThatIhave fought in religious wars and bled for theGodhe is trying to put in a box. “Yeah, kid.Iknow all about it.”
“You’rea believer?”
“Ofcourse,Iam, but you’re missing the point.Ifyou can’t putGodin this box that was created by man, then why do you feel you have to fit into it?YouthinkGoddoesn’t love you despite your sins?Doesn’the love people despite their sins of alcoholism, hatred, jealousy, or lying?”
“Yes, but…”
“Butwhat?Youhave sin.Hecan’t love you in spite of it?”
Hegasps, shocked at being smacked with the truth.Ittruly is frustrating how closed-minded people are.Godis so big and has created so many different beings, and they still expect everyone to conform to this debilitating standard.Iwonder howEvanwould react to my truth, that he isn’t even talking to a human being right now.
