Is That You God

The Story


The Room

Through the years his dwelling had become more of a tomb in the making, rather than a home to him. Lifeless shadows cast from cascading moonlight that has found its way through the seams of tightly drawn, and tattered curtains. Next to his bed stood the diminutive remains of a flickering candle. It too, created its own shadows. These shadows seemed to move in a rhythmic pulsating way, adding a surreal look to the room. It’s as though the room were gasping its end. The fading candle seemed almost symbolic as it neared its end. He would never need to light another, and it was in this that he found his solace.

It wasn’t a large room. It was a simple, decaying one room cottage standing just outside the village. The windows were dirty, and frozen in place by time. They haven’t been opened in many years. His door also displayed its neglect. The hinges were loosely nailed, and the wood had become weathered beyond repair. The cheerful yellow paint of the shutters had long since peeled off. His house was dying, just as he was dying.

Outside stood as an introduction of what you might expect to find inside. A garden that once bloomed with a beautiful assortment of fragrant flowers. A rock garden with stones once set meticulously in place, was now nothing more then rotted twigs, broken stones and an overgrowth of brush. Many years ago his mother had spent countless hours in this garden. Through her own pain, she still enjoyed the beauty in the things around her. It was only a few paces from there, that she buried her husband. It was where she found her own escape, she too, was laid to rest there.

The Man

As he lay there in his bed, he thought very little about whether it was day or night. Light or dark outside made little difference to him. His daily routine consisted of waking up, that was it. His nightly routine was trying to find elusive sleep. He thought at times that sleep was like a temporary death, he was free from this hideous life of his. If only it would last!

This frail, physically exhausted, white haired old man has had very few thoughts about life. In fact he thought of only one thing, freedom. Freedom was how he viewed death. Freedom from the pain that was endless. Freedom from the humiliation of his own grotesque body. He even wished for freedom from his own thoughts. Thoughts of freedom have consumed every waking moment of his life. How very long he had waited for this moment. He thought many times to himself, "if only I had the courage as a child to stop what was to be."

He had seen his parents suffer the fate of a life so filled with pain, and the terrible psychological abuse they have suffered, because of their appearance. More than once he had shouted "Coward!" aloud, no one but himself heard it, that was ok, it was directed at himself. How little he thought of himself because of his lack of courage.

This man living in the year seventeen hundred and twenty four, racked with the physical pain, as well as the mental anguish of leprosy. Existing in isolation, ashamed of his appearance, and very close to death. In fact wanting nothing more then just to die. He thought often of the irony of living with only thoughts of dying.
 
He had heard of a God when he was very young, perhaps only four or five years of age He didn't remember much of what he had heard, other than this God was a kind God, and somehow watched over us. He had heard it was a sin to take your own life, he didn't really understand what a sin was, except that it was a bad thing. He wondered many times after that, what was bad, and what was good. He knew his life was bad. Was it bad to stop a bad thing? He grew to hate this God for letting his life go on.

 This man lived just outside the village where people mocked his appearance, he had suffered their taunts since early childhood. There were many times he had wished he had lived even further from the village. At night he imagined he could hear their laughter, he imagined it was he they were telling stories about and laughing. "They laughed at me, even in my absence" he thought! 
This tiny one room cottage which had been neglected for many years was his only sanctuary, It’s as though both he, and his home were very close to perishing, both had been so terribly neglected. He despised his life. As he lay there, he knew the time had at last arrived. His vision was almost totally gone now. He could only see shadows of things. His hearing had been diminishing as well. He would finally find serenity, and would be free from this wretched life he had endured.  .  

As he lay in his bed, life, or at least life as he had known it, was being kindled only by his already exhausted organs. There was no will within him to go on. His body would respond no longer to even his simplest of wishes. To him death would be a very welcome, long awaited visitor.

"Why go on?" he questioned himself. "I’ve never understood a smile, and I know not the beauty of a rose. Surely those things cannot exist, and if they do," he uttered with vengeance, "surely they are the tools of the Devil!" Strange he wondered, that there is no beauty in this world other than death. "At last! I will know beauty! Come, come to me," he whispered," Embrace, and caress me, let me feel your gentle touch."Then! At that very moment he heard a sound……… A sound he had heard a very long time ago……… A (Tapping!!).

"Was someone tapping at my door? How can this be? Why should this be?" The man sobbed…….. "Why cannot I enjoy this one moment of beauty? I have paid my entire life! Why must there be humiliation even in this?"He looked about himself, and was unsettled with the fact that the mere knowledge of a possible visitor could bring life to his lifeless surroundings. Everything in his room, seemed………... seemed as though he was seeing it for the very first time. 
"Was my fathers picture always crooked?" he dismayed. " Was the rug always torn and tattered? AM I now too, to suffer the indignity of my surroundings as well?""I am aware," he said,…………….. “I AM AWARE”"

Was life so merciless and cruel as to have me feel awareness, and shame even in this, my final moment?"  As the door pushed open slowly, as though being pressed by a gentle breeze, he felt frightened. He felt exposed to the world that was always just outside his door. To him, this door had been his guardian between two worlds, both had pain, but one was without ridicule.

Outside was a world he had seen very little of. Where people even avoided gazing in his direction, and he knew why. And now, as he was very near to finally finding peace, and beauty in his own death, that world had come to his door once again to deny him the wishes of his final moment. He was to suffer even more with these thoughts. "I have known tears all my life, they shall perish with me, come quickly death, come quickly to me."
 
As the door opened to full swing, he looked upon the figure standing in his doorway, and strangely he was no longer afraid, he felt his face transforming into what he understood to be a “smile.” He was unsettled with this anomalous expression. It was one he had never experienced before, but felt afraid no longer.
     
The Visitor  

It was as though he knew this robed visitor was to be a friend. That this figure would show him, no, it would more then just show him,….. it would give him life, one without pain and humiliation! It would take away his want to die, and it would give him the knowledge of a smile. He would need no more. But there would be more. it would resurrect his wretched body, and show him the way though his own door. This very door that had been his only friend, and enemy alike. He had talked to this door, he had cursed this door and he had worshipped this door that had both protected him, and exposed him as being as he then was.Now this door had opened, would it reveal to him once again the world he had grown to hate because of his difference? As the man lay there, his eyes were fixed on the Visitor. "Is that you God?" the man asked almost rhetorically in a voice that was barely more then a whisper. There was no answer.

As the Visitor passed through the doorway, He slowly approached the Man’s bed. The man could feel the pain that had ravaged his body for too many years, slowly subsiding with each step the visitor took towards him. The man felt his body relaxing, though it was more like willfully submitting to the Visitor. The man wanted this pain to stop. His body had become rigid and tense through the many years of pain that no man should have had to endure, even for a moment.

The Visitor appeared to have a beautiful angelic glow around him that seemed to fill his room with colors, colors that were vivid and striking, and most remarkably, they were clear. There were no shadows of things anymore. His vision was pristine now. He could feel the air enter his lungs, lungs that were previously all but useless, allowing only shallow breaths, just barely sustaining his life such as it were.

With the passing days the man grew more responsive. He found himself able to do, and see things he had not done, or witnessed since his childhood. He was now able to once again hear the cheerful song of singing birds. He could see the sunrise fill his room in the morning. He could hear the wind whispering through the trees. How much he enjoyed these simple things that had become only a memory to him over the years.Erasmus “The man” has truly found the beauty in life that he had previously denied existed..Strange though he wondered. Why, the more I enjoy and appreciate the significance and the beauty of life, the more I fear this Visitor? The more I grow afraid of him? The more I grow a servant to him? Why??

Erasmus spoke to the Visitor. "I’m sorry I shudder with fear when I now stand in your presence, I know not why. Was it not you, that had picked me up from my sickness, and restored me to health? have you not shown me “The Beauty of a Rose?”……… Yet I fear thee; strange……yet I fear thee!" There was no answer. The Visitor simply placed his hand very slowly on Erasmus's shoulder.Erasmus continued, “Before you blessed my home with your visit I thought only of death, and the beauty I might finally find with it, but you have shown me the beauty in many things. You have made me aware. Forgive me, but with this awareness I find also that I fear thee!” The Visitor said nothing, but somehow with the gentle touch on his shoulder, Erasmus felt comforted.

Erasmus didn’t want to dwell on these feelings. Instead he wanted to do something he had wished for, for a long time. He wanted to walk outside his door. Yes, this door that had kept him safe, yet imprisoned all his life. He wanted to visit the village. He wanted the people to see that he was, as they were. That he was no longer like his parents were. He didn't want to imagine their laughter any longer. 

He found his shoes that were hidden away, thinking he would never have use of them again. He dressed quickly, filled with the boyish excitement of going to a fair. As he stepped outside through the doorway, he paused for a moment. Such beauty! He could smell the fragrance of flowers, the fields filled with beautiful colors. He marveled at the sky, so blue, with snow white clouds that seemed to have been painted perfectly in their place. He walked a little further, he leaned over and picked a rose. Erasmus felt he had never seen anything so beautiful before. He caressed the “Rose.” It's fragrance was one that reached into his soul. At long last he finally, totally understood the beauty of a Rose.

As he walked down the path towards the village he felt the warm summer breeze on his face. A face he no longer had to hide in shame. Then he experienced the best part of all, NO ONE stared at him. They simply smiled at him and bid him good morning. All but one man. This man peered at him with distrust and suspicion! This man shouted at him, and spat at him. This man told him he lived with the shadow of Death!

Erasmus didn't understand why this man would say such a thing. He walked away from the man, and continued to enjoy the village, and the people, but not without lingering thoughts of the man. His emotions were mixed. he enjoyed people smiling at him, and speaking to him. It was what he had dreamed of. Yet, this one man bothered him. He felt in the village, as he did at home. happy with his life, yet not totally at ease with certain events, specifically, the Visitor at home, and the man in the village.

Upon his return to his home he spoke to the Visitor. He told him of the man he met in town, and how the man raved, and screamed at him. “He cursed me, and said I live with the shadow of Death! "What did he mean?…………… What did he mean?” There was no answer.

The Revelation
 
Erasmus pleaded with the Visitor. "Help me! Show me your face so that I may see that you are “good” Why must you hide it, and WHY do I fear thee so? You have given my life meaning. You have shown me the pleasures of being alive, and have taken away my want to die. Yet the more I enjoy my life as it is now, the more I tremble in your presence. What did that man mean?” I plead that you reveal yourself to me. For surely he was mistaken."  

As the “Visitor slowly withdrew the concealing scarf away from his face!! Erasmus shuddered aloud!"You are not this God I thought you to be! Now I see why in your presence I felt cold and afraid! You are Death, but somehow you are more than just death! You are the manifestations of dying! You restored me to health, just so that I might see the beauty of life, so that in losing it, I would feel the grief, and sorrow that accompanies dying! You would have been cheated if I had died when I desired death. You would have been denied your demented lust, and your unquenchable thirst to torment mans soul. Your hideous self is kept alive only by the horrors you instill in those that fear thee, and I did not fear thee!. I was denying you your pound of flesh!
 
You see “O demon” it is not death that man fears, it is his dying. For in death we may sometimes find beauty and freedom as I would have! It is only dying with the knowledge of a smile, and the ability to see the “Beauty of a Rose” that we find our grief!These things you have truly given me, and now I fear death, for as I die, I shall surely remember the beautiful things you have opened my eyes to. You are a true Demon, your lust in the sorrow of mankind is insatiable. It was not enough for you to know I have suffered all my life. It is the final minutes that you wanted as well. This is when your terror is at its strongest!
 
You plant the seed of “reflection” into the fertile womb of every dying man’s mind. You ascertain a state of remorse for each man when his time is at hand. For truly if there was nothing had, there could be nothing lost. Yes, you are not only a clever Demon, but a determined one. Your determination is strengthened by every mans own determination to resist your arrival. As man obsessively strives to hold onto his life, your pursuit, and presence is profoundly more feared. Thereby assuring your existence. Man gives you the guarantee of a future with his incessant endeavor for immortality!  So now we share my hour again. am I not the wiser for your efforts? Has not my new wisdom given me the edge in this, our second meeting?
 
Strange why do I fear thee? I know now why you are here, and from whence you came.
"Can we not bargain O Prince? I wish to live!"
Is that not a “Rose” you hold in your hand????


 
Death ascended over the man’s bed, extending an hour glass in his one hand, he slowly put the Rose to his side. He said but one word to the man. “Remember”And the man did!With that, Death vanished. The door slowly pulled close, as though being pressed by a gentle breeze. Leaving the man alone with “dying,” Now possessing the knowledge of a "smile," and knowing "The Beauty of a Rose."

Erasmus The man wept.