This is the 10th entry in a series entitled God the Love Story Autumn
Having been humbled, more like cut to the quick, by the commander and a troll I was determined to devote the rest of my trek to memorizing and contemplating the commands with the intent that I would follow each one to the letter, even if it killed me. Which I was sure it would. Repentance, metanoia, conversion, change of mind and heart, though a slow and grueling process for me nevertheless became true. The realization that the road to immortality required the cross of obedience made sense. My daily willingness to die to my natural self for God’s sake slowly became my quest because He too was willing to die. He was even willing to die to being pure God, willing was He to convert into a poor vulnerable babe not for Himself but so that I may live in peace with Him and my fellow immortals forever. How ironic that I must die so that I may never die.
These thoughts occupied my mind along the pebbled road when to my surprise a large figure of a man wearing a tunic and carrying a long staff stood in the distance on my path. “Who are you?” I asked as I approach the man like a car approaches a red stoplight. Actually to say this man was large is an understatement. Standing next to him made me feel like I was the troll. When I think back on it I can’t say for sure whether he was a giant of a man physically or whether his importance made him seem so much bigger than me. He had long gray hair, a very long gray beard and he wore a tunic. His eyes were hazel green, like marbles, not big but deep and clear. His face was unusually smooth and rosy for a man so old.
“I am Abraham. I am here to teach you how to see.”
“Father Abraham!” I exclaimed. “What are you doing on this road to Christmas? You are already immortal.”
“Where else should I be, child? I live on the road to Christmas as long as this sun and moon force me to. Shall we keep walking while we talk? You are running late you know. In your country the people will soon celebrate the day of giving thanks to God for His providence to the early settlers. That day opens the door to the Christmas season. As well it should. How beautiful is the orchestration of these twin holy days. First you Americans thank God for protecting the bodies of His people, your founders, when they were most vulnerable and in danger, and within weeks, you lay gifts at His feet when He deigns to become one of you, hungry and defenseless. This infant could give nothing but hope. Yet those who knew how to see with their spiritual eyes welcomed and honored him as God’s only begotten Son! Yes, let us be on our way to Christmas together.”
“Father Abraham,” I replied, “I am not so sure I am ready to see. I am still perplexed by the concepts of grace and mercy. You had no commands to follow, neither the Ten Commandments nor the Law, nor the commands of Jesus. Forgive me father, but when and how did you start to see?”
“Ah my child, as I asked you to walk faster, now I must tell you to think slower.” He replied, spewing the milk of human kindness with each word. “First let me ask you, what is this death you are so afraid of?”