Thursday, April 2, 2015

The One He Loved (Holy Week series, Part 1/5)

The three years.

When his stark humanity slipped and the eternity leaked through, John was afraid.

The brilliant, warm man who laughed and ate and sang with him, he felt like he could stay. John wanted that, for the days of them all together to stretch on and on. But in those pauses, those cracks in the days that let the brightness through, their moments suddenly felt frail -- short and small and always slipping away. At any moment that something else beneath the surface would snatch him away, and leave John in the old world, before come with me and I will make you....

So secretly he treasured the ordinary moments more than the miraculous ones. He lost himself in the laughter and the shared meals and the raised voices and dirty feet, and he pretended that it would last. But then he would look up, and see those still, ancient eyes in the carpenter's sun-worn face, and he would feel again the moments ticking by.

Someday He would go back, and John did not know what he would do then.

(To be continued tomorrow in 'The dark day' )

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