First Love Part 1

I thought that He was dead.

See, it had just been so long since I had heard from Him. Months. Years, even, but I have forgotten now what the former days were like. Some memories shine brighter than others, but the ones that glow with truth are the ones with Him.

Running together in the field. Laughing until tears rolled down our cheeks and we couldn't breathe. Singing songs of love, first me to Him, and then Him to me. Sitting by the fire in the dead of night.

But those things had faded along the way, somehow, and I was left only with a shadow of Him. He didn't say He was going away, I just woke up one morning and He wasn't there.

And that was the day Fear came to live here instead.

Fear was a bitter friend. I tried everything I knew how to make him leave. I tried shouting at him, cursing him, pleading for my life, but he would not leave, and I conceded that perhaps he was meant to live with me for a reason, to grow my desire for my Love, perhaps. But instead, my desire began to wither and my heart began to forget what Love looked and felt like.

I wrote to my Love. I pleaded with Him to come back, to tell me where He had gone and why He had left me. I wondered if my love had been too weak to make Him stay. I wondered what I had done to make Him go. He was all I could think about, but He seemed distant, a memory that became more foggy as the days passed.

People would come to my house and ask me why I didn't just tell Fear to go, if I didn't like him so much. They said that maybe it was a blessing in disguise, being able to live with someone instead of being alone. I told myself I would rather be alone, would rather die than live one more day like this.

Sometimes people were kind, and would bring me letters from my Love. They did not tell me anything about where He had gone or why He had left. They just handed them to me with tears in their eyes, as if they had seen Him.

All He spoke of in the letters was our love. I would weep as I read them, as my heart was torn with longing for Him, and would keep them in a box above my fireplace. He only said He loved me so much He couldn't take it. He said He longed for me like all the longing of all the lovers in all of history combined. He said that He couldn't wait for the next time we could be together, that He could hold me in His arms.

The days turned into months. I had forgotten that He was good, the highest form of beauty.

The months turned into years. I had forgotten He was alive. He had become a shadow of the past in my head, a fantasy, they said. They said He wasn't coming back, that He had more important things to do.

One day Fear hit me, a crisp blow that left a clear bruise on the skin just beneath my collarbone. Carefully concealed from all eyes. Just where my heart rested beneath my ribs.

I left that morning. I walked out the front door with the coffee pot boiling on the stove and the fire in the fireplace. I didn't even bring my jacket. Anything was better than this. Death was better.

I knew I would die in the wilderness. I knew that I would. But I would die a worse death without love.

And I started walking.

A voice flickered like candlelight across the face of a the waters in my mind. Come and find me, it said.

I dismissed it and kept walking.

Messages to Mr. Brian Stoltzfus (A memoir by Jim Reams)

Hurry! Make haste!
Dust the mats! Sweep the floor!
Put on the kettle on for tea!
The Golden Man is coming!
Did you not see Him walking down the road?
Flowers sprung into blossom as He passed by,
And all darkness fled before His face.
And I knew.
I knew He was coming here,
To this place.

I had only time to arrange the chairs, and put on a good shirt, and there He was.
We sat together, He and I.
He did not speak with words. He did not need to. One glance into His eyes, into His shining countenance which was like deep well of golden light, and I knew all things.
I found myself stammering and babbling like a child, but He did not seem to mind. I wept, and knelt at His feet, and touched them. It did not feel strange to me. It felt like home.
There were deep scars, but they were pink, like roses, and beautiful, like new life. And The Golden Man, Jesus, laid His hand on my head. I wad broken, re-made all in an instant.
Then He was gone. Yet His peace still lingers. But He is coming your way! Be ready! You can see Him from a long, long way. A great host of swallows, and butterflies is following Him.
And music! Yes.
The whole earth had broken into song.

«««»»»

Did He come? Did you speak to Him?
I feel sure He will visit you soon. Listen for the quiet knock on your door. Leave your front gate open.

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It's all coming back to me now. I was in a state of shock there for a while. Blundering blindly into bliss, you might say. Ha ha!
But it was Him, alright.
The same Jesus I met when I was a young man, except even more glorious.
But I had forgotten His face. I had forgotten what His Presence felt like. I had forgotten that He is holy.
Seriously though, Stoltzfus, I was expecting the Grim Reaper. I have not been feeling very permanent lately. Stomach problems. Fatigue. I was scared.

But instead, here comes the Golden Man, strolling into our driveway. When He touched me, I was healed of many things.
I mean, I think so. He certainly has the power. It's just that now, death and sickness don't really matter. Being with Him is what matters.

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Sorry, Brian, I know I'm babbling, but there's more to it.
I had let the world beat me down until I lost hope. I was ashamed of Christ.
Not because He is not true, but because I was not true. I listened to the song of the world, and believed that I was useless. I once set out to change the world, to make it a better place, but the world had fangs. It had destroyed me.

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Sorry to keep rambling on, but here's the thing, Stoltzfus: He did speak, came to think of it. You may think I am crazy, insane; but if so, then I much prefer this insanity to the cold logic of the world.

But as I knelt, and touched His feet, He said,
"Satan has desired to sift thee like wheat, but I prayed for thee..."

That really got to me! Sift me? The evil one had kicked my ass up and down the block! But He prayed for me? The very Son of God prayed for me?!

«««»»»

But He was really here! Just come over some time and sit in that chair, and we can have coffee, or beer. He was sitting in that lawn chair you sold me, the one with the yellow cushion. You can still feel Him if you sit there. Peace from the Golden Man.

«««»»»

What, Brian?
No, He wasn't really golden, like the statue of the Golden Logger on the capitol building. That is just the impression left on the mind. You know how scientists say that you don't really see things as they are, but you only see the various light waves reflecting off of them?
So then you say that the grass is green and sky is blue. I guess that's how it works with Him. The writers of the bible were always using words like golden, crystal, adamant. Now I see why.

«««»»»

Yes. Of course everyone is saying I'm crazy. I've gone off of the deep end. Well, they are mistaken. The only time I have ever been of sound mind is when I walked with Jesus.
And I'm not afraid of them anymore. He took away my fear. I want to sit at His feet again, soon.

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I respect your opinion, of course Stolzfus, but the Truth is the Truth. I'm through with denying Him. I still suggest that you leave your gate open in case He knocks on your door.

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Well, I had also forgotten the message that God gave me to sing in my youth. Jesus Christ is coming back! He will judge all things in righteousness. Just keep this in mind, Brian:
If the love of God is so deep and powerful, and amazing, what must His wrath be like?
Anyway, He's the only reason I'm writing you. I haven't written in months. Come to think of it, Stoltzfus, the only reason I ever did anything creative was because of Jesus Christ.

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If you really think I'm insane, why do you keep writing back to me? Not that I mind. Yes. I waited for Him every day for a week, but did not see Him, until I was driving to town. He was walking along the highway. A rainbow halo followed Him.
I could not believe that the Golden Man, Christ, the Son of God would condescend to ride in my dirty old Jeep. But He did. I was afraid to look at Him; but for the first time in years, I actually enjoyed driving!

Yes. I didn't care how many cars were rudely tailgating me. I didn't care that I was out of place in this world. I sat up a little straighter in the Jeep seat.

He was with me.
He had always been with me.