At the Altar

Safety

I was born blind. Not in the literal sense, though. I could see everything around me just fine. Perfect vision in fact. But that isn't what I mean by blind. This type of blindness leaves you seeing a strange "nothing." Deep down inside of me, there is no light. There is no dark. Just nothing, and that's all I can see. Because this blindness isn't on the outside, but on the inside. Just the same way everyone is born. It's not like I mind the blindness, though. It keeps away seeing all the bad, painful truths. I don't have to see the "dark" things of the world. After all, if I am in nothing, what is this dark and light other people see? Nothing is definitely better.

It is the same with deafness. I was born deaf on the inside. This one is a bit weirder to explain. You know how people always joke around about the angel and demon on your shoulder? Or how they talk about this little voice that tells them what to do? I don't hear it. I just do whatever I want, when I want. Isn't this the best way to live? It's so exhilarating and as long as you avoid the consequences, there's nothing bad about this life style. I mean, you can do whatever you want! Who needs those little voices whispering what is right like other people claim to have? This world is too full of life to worry about that. The only voice I hear is mine. Quiet is definitely better.

This hasn't only affected my senses. I am also lame. If you haven't noticed yet, none of this is on the outside. That place inside with all the nothingness and quiet? I am completely still. I can't move. It's like my legs are broken. I don't mind it, though. This way I don't have to make a choice. If there is nowhere to move, I cannot make the wrong movement. Without the ability to move, there's no real way for me to make a mistake. Being still is better.

All of these - being blind, deaf, and lame - are better. I am safe this way. Nothing to worry about but enjoying life and getting where I want in life.

That's what I told myself, at least.

Which is why I cannot understand why I always feel so empty.

Or why I am holding a knife and staring longingly at my wrist.

If all of this is better... Why am I searching for an escape?

If all of this is better... Why hasn't the parties or friends or drugs made the hole go away?

What was I missing?

I was so close to dragging that knife across my skin. So close to searching for something - anything - to just make the hole go away. I didn't want it. This life was mine to live, and if that meant doing something desperate to make it all feel complete, so be it.

Before I could, though, something happened that shouldn't have.

My entire life I have been blind. Yet for the first time, I suddenly saw something. I saw a man walking toward me, an aura of light around him. He wore a white robe with a purple sash. Everything else about him was strangely blurred. Maybe the blindness wasn't fully gone.

That wasn't the only thing that began to slip away - I was moving. I was stumbling away. After so long of not walking, though, I staggered. Something pulled at my legs, trying its best to pull me back to it. The darkness, maybe?

Then the final safety slipped away. I heard - for the first time - a voice that wasn't mine.

"Hello, my child."

It was terrifying. So very, very terrifying. I wanted to curl into a ball. I wanted to squeeze my eyes shut and cover my eyes. All of this was just too new. I couldn't take it. My senses were overwhelmed.

The man - as his voice identified he was - crouched down in front of me. As he did, I screamed. The light that was around him had illuminated what was around me. I didn't like it. There were these shadowy shapes. They had hungry eyes trained on me, the occasional brave one reaching a clawed hand toward me. The moment it came in contact with the man's light, though, they would hiss and pull back.

I heard words coming from them. Their voices stunned me, because every single one sounded just like my own. They told me not to trust this man. They told me he would take away my safety.

"Someone has been praying for you," the man said, gaining my attention. "They know where you are in life, and they have made sure to ask me to keep my eyes on you, my child."

As he reached forth a hand, a gesture I didn't quite understand, the puzzle pieces fell into place. His clothing, his words, and the hole in the hand he offered could only represent one man. That Jesus Christ I heard some weirdo Christians talking about.

Weirdos like my grandma.

The man nodded to the shadowy creatures. "They're right, you know. I can take it all away. I make the blind see. I open deaf ears. And I heal the lame." He gestured around us. "Both in body and in spirit."

I tried to get away again. "I don't want those gone! They keep me safe!"

This guy - Jesus, I suppose - smiled sadly. It was one of the few features I could make out. "I can walk away right now. You can do as you wish. You can allow these demons to gain power over you again. You can forget about me. But I shall never forget about you. The price for you was paid long ago."

All of this sounded scarily like what my grandmother had told me, back when she could drag me off to church with her. But that hole had never fully been gone. This man was just a lie. Just a figment of my imagination.

It was as if this man could hear my thoughts. "For me to fill that hole, first you must let me. I gave you a chance. Can you not do the same?"

Before I could take off, I heard something new. Something that I hadn't expected to hear, for I had made sure never to again years ago.

"My lord, Your child is so lost. I have done everything to keep Your child safe, have shown Your love, but I cannot do this on my own. I need You to move. I need You to save Your child. Do not let this world take control. Steal back Your child, Lord. I will not stop this fight until my grandchild is safe. Save them, Lord. Please, I beg of You, just save them."

As my grandmother's voice rang out in what I had once thought was nothing, tears began to flow. I had forsaken her long ago, believing her as nothing more but a babbling fool with crazy beliefs. I had gone as far as to say this to her face.

Yet she had not stopped reaching for me. Begging to a God I had sworn off long ago. No matter where I searched in my life, that love had never been one I had seen. I had made her nothing. But I had still been on her heart.

Jesus still stared down at me, His wounded hand still outstretched, not wavering in the slightest. He didn't have to come. Just like she hadn't had to pray for someone lost like I was. Yet He had. And even when I told Him to leave, He didn't.

Just like she had always told me He wouldn't.

"I ask for you to believe in Me. Do so, and You shall win this battle. Finally win this battle you have believed was safety."

I moved without too much thought. Her words and His appearance had taken too much of an affect.

I took Jesus's hand.

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Cover above made by Kayla-Writes