The Shack

by William Paul Young

  “But she didn’t stop it.”

  “No, she didn’t. She doesn’t stop a lot of things that cause her pain. Your world is severely broken. You demanded your independence, and now you are angry with the One who loved you enough to give it to you. Nothing is as it should be, as Papa desires it to be, and as it will be one day. Right now your world is lost in darkness and chaos, and horrible things happen to those she is especially fond of.”

  “Then why doesn’t she do something about it?”

  “She already has…”

  “You mean what Jesus did?”

  “Haven’t you seen the wounds on Papa too?”

  “I didn’t understand them. How could she…”

  “For love. She chose the way of the cross, where mercy triumphs over justice because of love. Would you instead prefer she’d chosen justice for everyone? Do you want justice, ‘Dear Judge’?” And she smiled as she said it.

  “No, I don’t,” he said as he lowered his head. “Not for me, and not for my children.”

  She waited.

  “But I still don’t understand why Missy had to die.”

  “She didn’t have to, Mackenzie. This was no plan of Papa’s. Papa has never needed evil to accomplish her good purposes. It is you humans who have embraced evil, and Papa has responded with goodness. What happened to Missy was the work of evil, and no one in your world is immune from it.”

  “But it hurts so much. There must be a better way.”

  “There is. You just can’t see it now. Return from your independence, Mackenzie. Give up being her judge and know Papa for who she is. Then you will be able to embrace her love in the midst of your pain, instead of pushing her away with your self-centered perception of how you think the universe should be. Papa has crawled inside of your world to be with you, to be with Missy.”

  Mack stood up from the chair. “I don’t want to be a judge anymore. I really do want to trust Papa.” Unnoticed by Mack, the room lightened yet again as he moved around the table toward the simple chair where it all began. “But I’ll need help.”

  She reached out and hugged Mack. “Now that sounds like the start of the trip home, Mackenzie. It certainly does.”

  The quiet of the cavern was suddenly broken by the sound of children’s laughter. It seemed to be coming through one of the walls, which Mack could now clearly see as the room continued to brighten. As he stared in that direction, the stone surface grew increasingly translucent and daylight filtered into the cave. Startled, Mack peered through the haze and finally could make out the vague shapes of children playing in the distance.

  “Those sound like my kids!” Mack exclaimed, his mouth open in astonishment. Moving to the wall, the mist parted as if someone had drawn a curtain, and he was unexpectedly looking out across a meadow, back toward the lake. In front of him loomed the backdrop of high snow-covered mountains, perfect in their majesty, dressed in heavily wooded forests. And nestled at their feet, he could clearly see the shack, where he knew Papa and Sarayu would be waiting for him. A large stream tumbled out of nowhere directly in front of him and flowed into the lake alongside fields of high country flowers and grasses. The sounds of birds were everywhere and the sweet scent of summer hung rich in the air.

  All this Mack saw, heard, and smelled in an instant, but then his gaze was drawn to movement, to the group playing along an eddy near where the stream flowed into the lake less than fifty yards away. He saw his children there—Jon, Tyler, Josh, and Kate. But wait! There was another!

  He gasped, trying to focus more intently. Moving toward them, he pushed up against an unseen force as if the stone wall were still invisibly in front of him. Then it became clear. “Missy!” There she was, kicking her bare feet in the water. As if she heard him, Missy broke from the group and came running down the trail that ended directly in front of him.

  “Oh, my God! Missy!” he yelled and tried to move forward, through the veil that held them separate. To his consternation, he ran into a power that would not allow him to get closer, as if some magnetic force increased in direct opposition to his effort, deflecting him back into the room.

  “She cannot hear you.”

  Mack didn’t care. “Missy!” he screamed. She was so close. The memory that he had been trying so hard not to lose but had felt slowly slipping away now snapped back. He looked for some kind of handhold, as if he could pry whatever it was open and find some way to get through to his daughter. But there was nothing.

  Meanwhile, Missy had arrived and stood directly in front of him. Her gaze was clearly not at him, but at something that was in between, larger and obviously visible to her but not to him.

  Mack finally quit fighting the force field and half turned to the woman. “Can she see me? Does she know that I’m here?” he asked desperately.

  “She knows that you are here, but she cannot see you. From her side, she is looking at the beautiful waterfall and nothing more. But she knows you are behind it.”

  “Waterfalls!” Mack exclaimed, laughing to himself. “She just can’t get enough of waterfalls!” Now Mack focused on her, trying to memorize again every detail of her expression and hair and hands. As he did so, Missy’s face erupted in a huge smile, dimples standing out. In slow motion, with great exaggeration, he could see her mouth the words, “It’s okay, I”—and now she signed the words—“love you.”

  It was too much and Mack wept for joy. Still he couldn’t stop looking at her, watching her through his own cascading waterfall. To be this close again was painful, to see her standing in that Missy way, with one leg forward and a hand on her hip, wrist inward. “She’s really okay, isn’t she?”

  “More than you know. This life is only the anteroom of a greater reality to come. No one reaches their potential in your world. It’s only preparation for what Papa had in mind all along.”

  “Can I get to her? Maybe just one hug, and a kiss?” he begged quietly.

  “No. This is the way she wanted it.”

  “She wanted it this way?” Mack was confused.

  “Yes. She is a very wise child, our Missy. I am especially fond of her.”

  “Are you sure she knows I am here?”

  “Yes, I am sure,” she assured Mack. “She has been very excited for this day, to play with her brothers and sister, and to be near you. She very much would have liked her mother to be here too, but that will wait for another time.”

  Mack turned toward the woman. “Are my other children really here?”

  “They are here, but they aren’t. Only Missy is truly here. The others are dreaming, and each will have a vague memory of this—some in greater detail than others, but none fully or completely. This is a very peaceful time of sleep for each of them, except Kate. This dream will not be easy for her. Missy, though, is fully awake.”

  Mack watched every move his precious Missy was making. “Has she forgiven me?” he asked.

  “Forgiven you for what?”

  “I failed her,” he whispered.

  “It would be her nature to forgive, if there were anything to forgive, which there is not.”

  “But I didn’t stop him from taking her. He took her while I wasn’t paying attention…” His voice trailed off.

  “If you remember, you were saving your son. Only you, in the entire universe, believe that somehow you are to blame. Missy doesn’t believe that, neither does Nan or Papa. Perhaps it’s time to let that go—that lie. And Mackenzie, even if you had been to blame, her love is much stronger than your fault could ever be.”

  Just then someone called Missy’s name and Mack recognized the voice. She shrieked with delight and started to run back toward the others. Abruptly she stopped and ran back to her daddy. She made a big embrace as if she were hugging him and, with eyes closed, exaggerated a kiss. From behind the barrier he hugged her back. For a moment she stood completely still, as if knowing she was giving him a gift for his memory, waved, turned, and raced back to the others.

  And now Mack could clearly see the
voice that had called his Missy. It was Jesus, playing in the middle of his children. Without hesitation Missy leaped into his arms. He swung her around twice before putting her back on her feet, and then everyone laughed before hunting for smooth stones to skip across the surface of the lake. The voicing of their joy was a symphony to Mack’s ears, and as he watched, his tears flowed freely.

  Suddenly, without warning, water roared down from above, directly in front of him, and obliterated all the sights and sounds of his children. Instinctively, he jumped back. He now realized that the walls of the cave had dissolved around him, and he was standing in a grotto behind the waterfall.

  Mack felt the woman’s hands on his shoulders.

  “Is it over?” he asked.

  “For now,” she replied tenderly. “Mackenzie, judgment is not about destruction, but about setting things right.”

  Mack smiled. “I don’t feel stuck anymore.”

  She steered him gently toward the side of the waterfall until he could once again see Jesus on the shore, still skipping stones. “I think someone is waiting for you.”

  Her hands softly squeezed and then left his shoulders, and Mack knew without looking that she was gone. After carefully climbing over slippery boulders and across wet rocks, he found a way around the edge of the falls, then through the refreshing mist of tumbling water and back into daylight.

  Exhausted but deeply fulfilled, Mack paused and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to etch the details of Missy’s presence indelibly into his mind, hoping that in the days to come he would be able to bring back every moment with her, every nuance and movement.

  And suddenly he missed Nan so very, very much.

  12

  IN THE BELLY OF THE BEASTS

  Men never do evil so completely and cheerfully as when they do it from religious conviction.

  —Blaise Pascal

  Once abolish the God and the government becomes the God.

  —G. K. Chesterton

  As Mack made his way down the trail toward the lake, he suddenly realized that something was missing. His constant companion, The Great Sadness, was gone. It was as if it had been washed away in the mists of the waterfall as he emerged from behind its curtain. Its absence felt odd, perhaps even uncomfortable. For the past years it had defined for him what was normal, but now, unexpectedly, it had vanished. Normal is a myth, he thought to himself.

  The Great Sadness would not be part of his identity any longer. He knew now that Missy wouldn’t care if he refused to put it on. In fact, she wouldn’t want him to huddle in that shroud and would likely grieve for him if he did. He wondered who he would be now that he was letting all that go—to walk into each day without the guilt and despair that had sucked the colors of life out of everything.

  As he entered the clearing, he saw Jesus still waiting, still skipping stones.

  “Hey, I think my best was thirteen skips,” he said as he laughed and walked to meet Mack. “But Tyler beat me by three and Josh threw one that skipped so fast we all lost count.” As they hugged, Jesus added, “You have special kids, Mack. You and Nan have loved them very well. Kate is struggling, as you know, but we’re not done there.”

  The very ease and intimacy with which Jesus talked about his children touched him deeply. “Then they’re gone?”

  Jesus pulled back and nodded. “Yes, back to their dreams, except Missy, of course.”

  “Is she…?” Mack began.

  “She was overjoyed to have been this close to you, and she’s thrilled knowing you are better.”

  Mack struggled to maintain his composure. Jesus understood and changed the subject.

  “So, how was your time with Sophia?”

  “Sophia? Ahh, so that’s who she is!” exclaimed Mack. Then a perplexed look came across his face. “But doesn’t that make four of you? Is she God too?”

  Jesus laughed. “No, Mack. There are only three of us. Sophia is a personification of Papa’s wisdom.”

  “Oh, like in Proverbs, where wisdom is pictured as a woman calling out in the streets, trying to find anyone who’ll listen to her?”

  “That’s her.”

  “But”—Mack paused as he bent to untie the laces of his shoes—“she seemed so real.”

  “Oh, she’s quite real,” responded Jesus. He then looked around as if to see if anyone was watching and whispered, “She’s part of the mystery surrounding Sarayu.”

  “I love Sarayu,” Mack exclaimed as he stood, somewhat surprised at his own transparency.

  “Me too!” Jesus stated with emphasis. They walked back to the shore and silently stood looking across at the shack.

  “It was terrible and it was wonderful, my time with Sophia.” Mack finally answered the question Jesus had asked earlier. He suddenly realized that the sun was still high in the sky. “Exactly how long have I been gone?”

  “It’s been less than fifteen minutes, so not long,” Jesus replied. At Mack’s look of bewilderment, he added, “Time with Sophia is not like normal time.”

  “Huh,” grunted Mack. “I doubt if anything with her is normal.”

  “Actually”—Jesus started to speak but paused to throw one last skipping stone—“with her, everything is normal and elegantly simple. Because you are so lost and independent you bring to her many complications, and as a result you find even her simplicity profound.”

  “So, I’m complex and she’s simple. Whew! My world is upside down.” Mack had already sat down on a log and was taking off his shoes and socks for the walk back. “Can you tell me this? Here it is the middle of the day, and my children were here in their dreams? How does that work? Is any of this real? Or am I just dreaming too?”

  Again Jesus laughed. “As far as how all this works? Don’t ask, Mack. It’s a little heady—something to do with time-dimensional coupling. More of Sarayu’s stuff. Time, as you know it, presents no boundaries to the One who created it. You can ask her, if you like.”

  “Nah, I think I’ll wait on that one. I was just curious.” He chuckled.

  “But as for ‘Is any of this real?’ Far more real than you can imagine.” Jesus paused for a moment to get Mack’s full attention. “A better question might be, ‘What is real?’ ”

  “I’m beginning to think that I have no idea,” Mack offered.

  “Would all this be any less ‘real’ if it were inside a dream?”

  “I think I’d be disappointed.”

  “Why? Mack, there is far more going on here than you have the ability to perceive. Let me assure you, all of this is very much real, far more real than life as you’ve known it.”

  Mack hesitated but then decided to take the risk and ask. “There is one thing still bothering me, about Missy.”

  Jesus walked over and sat next to him on the log. Mack leaned over and put his elbows on his knees, staring past his hands and down at the pebbles near his feet. Finally he said, “I keep thinking about her, alone in that truck, so terrified…”

  Jesus reached over and put his hand on Mack’s shoulder and squeezed. Gently he said, “Mack, she was never alone. I never left her; we never left her, not for one instant. I could no more abandon her, or you, than I could abandon myself.”

  “Did she know you were there?”

  “Yes, Mack, she did. Not at first—the fear was overwhelming and she was in shock. It took hours to get up here from the campsite. But as Sarayu wrapped herself around her, Missy settled down. The long ride actually gave us a chance to talk.”

  Mack was trying to take all of this in. He could no longer speak.

  “She may have been only six years old, but Missy and I are friends. We talk. She had no idea what was going to happen. She was actually more worried about you and the other kids, knowing you couldn’t find her. She prayed for you, for your peace.”

  Mack wept, fresh tears rolling down his cheeks. This time, he didn’t mind. Jesus gently pulled him into his arms and held him.

  “Mack, I don’t think you want to know all the details. I’
m sure they won’t help you. But I can tell you there was not a moment that we were not with her. She knew my peace, and you would have been proud of her. She was so brave!”

  The tears flowed freely now, but even Mack noticed this time it was different. He was no longer alone. Without embarrassment he wept onto the shoulder of this man he had grown to love. With each sob he felt the tension drain away, replaced by a deep sense of relief. Finally, he took a deep breath and blew it out as he lifted his head.

  Then, without another word, he stood up, slung his shoes over one shoulder, and simply walked into the water. Although he was a little surprised when his first step found the lake bottom up to his ankles, he didn’t care. He stopped, rolled up his pant legs above the knees just to be sure, and took another step into the shockingly cold water. This one took him up to midcalf, and the next up to just below his knees, his feet still on the lake bottom. He looked back to see Jesus standing on the shore with his arms folded across his chest, watching him.

  Mack turned and looked toward the opposite shore. He wasn’t sure why it wasn’t working this time, but he was determined to press on. Jesus was there, so he had nothing to worry about. The prospect of a long and cold swim was not too thrilling, but Mack was sure he could make it across if he had to.

  Thankfully, when he took his next step, instead of going deeper he rose up a little, and with each succeeding stride he came up even more until he was on top of the water once again. Jesus joined him and they both continued walking toward the shack.

  “This always works better when we do it together, don’t you think?” Jesus asked, smiling.

  “Still more to learn, I guess.” Mack returned his smile. It didn’t matter to him, he realized, whether he had to swim the distance or walk on water, as wonderful as the latter was. What mattered was that Jesus was with him. Perhaps he was beginning to trust him after all, even if it was only in baby steps.

  “Thank you for being with me, for talking to me about Missy. I haven’t really talked about that with anyone. It just felt so huge and terrifying. It doesn’t seem to hold the same power now.”