by Nate Allen
get back up here.
He hands me three pieces of fruit, all different sizes. The first is small and yellow. It looks like a lemon but has the texture of a soft peach and smells like an apple. The second looks like the same citrus fruit the man from the cabin gave me before we arrived. The third piece is shaped like a banana with clear skin and what looks like orange grapes growing on the inside. What strange fruit there is here. And it all grows on one tree.
“You’ve never tasted fruit like this,” dad says as he pops something that looks like a light green plum in his mouth. “There is nothing on earth that compares to it. God has saved the best for here.”
I peel the clear banana first, popping one of the orange grapes into my mouth. The taste is a mixture of so many different things; the surge of strength is immediate.
“You’re like a superhero, dad.” I laugh as we start to walk together again. “When I was a kid I only saw you that way: the world’s fastest man.”
“Then maybe that’s why you saw it just now” he smiles. “Don’t be mistaken, son. That’s the first time I’ve glided. But, God knows every desire of your heart, even when you’re not conscious of it. Did it do something to you?”
“Yeah,” I’m not sure what it is, though. I’m not sure why it was necessary. There was nothing that needed to be filled. God poured water into an already full glass. But, maybe that was the reason. Maybe He just wanted me to experience more when I already had everything.
6
The fruit replenishes what so quickly fades away. It is clear to me now that it only powers me enough to endure the process. For the power of His presence not only warms, but strips, just as water erodes even the hardest rocks. Whatever pride or self sufficiency I have built myself on is being carved away. Every difficult step up this incline is cleaning me of myself.
Dad and I are in the middle of the second incline. The force of the waves increases with every step. The folds of light continue to intensify. From a healthy golden glow to pure white flashes, crests of countless suns all combining at once…
“Andrew.” a voice is now spilling from the waves, rolling over every part of me. My eyes can’t begin to stay open; my legs can’t begin to hold me up. I am flat on my face, overwhelmed by something indescribable. “You will never know the joy I have. You were lost and now you’re found!”
Trying to open my eyes is impossible. I have lost all control of my body. I can’t even move a finger; I can’t begin to speak a word. The presence enveloping me has left me absolutely helpless; the pressure is pinning me in place, as if a truck has been placed on top of me.
“Learn to let go of your physical body, Andrew. It wasn’t designed to withstand My Father’s presence. It isn’t from here. It will only crush under the weight of His glory. You can only see what I want to show you by letting go of your physical body. Only something that comes from My Father can survive in His presence.”
Suddenly, I feel myself detaching from the broken suit on the ground. And even though I can’t open my physical eyes, I’m able to see what’s happening from above me, with eyes that aren’t mine. Or maybe they are. The waves are coming from the silhouette of a Man made of pure light. They bow down at His feet and then roll outward, stampeding away from Him like stallions.
Jesus. I speak within myself. I am not worthy to look at You. I am not worthy to say Your name. I lived my life in mockery of You. Even though I am no longer attached to my body, the need to cry fills me.
“When I laid down my life, Andrew, I laid it down for you.” He’s soft spoken but His voice passes through me like a bullet.
How is that possible?
“You come from The Father, Andrew. You were created for Him. Everyone is. When I hung on the cross, timelessness and time intersected. On earth the sacrifice lasted mere hours; but in the spirit, millenniums passed. I died for everyone who has ever been and will ever be. I died for every sin that will ever be committed and paid the price so that no one should perish.”
I’ll never understand why You would die for me.
”You truly don’t understand how much you are worth, Andrew.” the waves are no longer stampeding away from Jesus but are now joyous crescendos climbing high into the air. “I can’t even speak about My love for you without it changing the waves of My Father’s presence.”
I glance down at my body. It looks like it’s made of paper, now being swept from side to side under a deep current of God’s overwhelming love. Dad’s body is next to mine but he isn’t being swept from side to side. He is lying under the presence of God, held down by something I don’t have.
Why’s my dad still attached to His body?
”The longer you live in Heaven, the heavier you become. When you are truly exposed to My Father’s presence, if you haven’t learned to walk in the shallow waves of His presence, you will never be able to come near the Throne Room. Your dad is held down by the weight of his experience.”
Why do you speak as the lesser, Lord? I know enough of Your word to know that You and The Father are one and the same.
”He is One made up of three: The Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. I am in Him and He is in Me, but I come from Him. He does not come from Me. Although I and The Holy Spirit are one and the same with Him, He is Father God. The mystery of God is something you will never begin to grasp, Andrew. You are creation; He is Creator. Your understanding will multiply the longer you are here—”
Do I get to stay? I desperately want to. Being in Jesus’ presence makes any other moment of joy pale in comparison. Even being reunited with my dad again doesn’t begin to compare. And I dread if I have to leave, because I am home. I am finally home.
“No, Andrew. There is still work to be done.”
7
Before I go, can I see Your face?
”I still have things to show you, Andrew. Your return to the counterfeit is not random; your purpose for going back is not to punish you or to teach you a lesson. You are now a child of the Most High God. When you return to that world, you will not see it as you did before.”
What will be different?
”Everything will be different, Andrew. The counterfeit is a personal world, filled with its owner’s desires. The world you left was the world you created; the world you will go back to is someone else’s.
Why does the counterfeit exist? I have accepted my position. And though I am sad to be leaving, I will follow my orders.
“It’s as your dad told you: it’s yet another chance, one more final brief window where I am reaching My hand down into the darkness, trying to bring My lost sheep back into the fold before it’s too late. Everyone has an appointed time, Andrew. Long before you were ever physically born, My Father knew the very moment you would be born into the world and at the same time He had already appointed the moment you would leave it. Time belongs to Him. And once He appoints the day you arrive and the day you depart, nothing can change it. The counterfeit is a spiritual world, far more real than your life on earth. It is a world few will ever visit. But for those who do, the clock is running out. People who have accepted me as Lord and Savior in life do not enter the counterfeit.”
Everyone saved in the counterfeit were saved from it. I noticed the color patterns. There was either red and black or white and gold.
”There are rules to the counterfeit, Andrew. Many of the same rules that operate on earth apply there. Everybody wants an undeniable sign that I exist in order for them to believe in Me. They want proof. I provide it every day in countless small ways but I very rarely show My power.”
Why?
”Faith comes by hearing and hearing by the Word of God. Free will cannot be changed. And is it not manipulating free will if I were to show everyone that I exist? A very delicate balance exists between manipulation and exposure. By proving My existence, I suddenly take away the chance for free will and with it the chance for true love to exist. When My Father spoke creation into being, He created man for one purpose: to be loved. If He had wanted obedient pup
pets, My Father would have created man like the beasts of the earth: void of choice and able to be trained.
“The counterfeit is an extension of those rules. If My children offer undeniable proof of My existence, they take away choice. For example, Andrew, when the young boy that was dressed like an angel jumped from your car and disappeared, it wasn’t manipulation. It wasn’t something undeniable. You considered many other logical possibilities other than the truth. The color of the clothing was just another small clue. You could have easily chosen to see it as just an eccentric detail to a strange world or you could have chosen to read into it deeper and start noticing the differences between the two. Red and black was always tied to fleshly desire; white and gold was always tied to Me. It was in front of your face but not so bold that it made the decision for you. That is the delicate balance that must always remain for My lost sheep.”
I understand. The God of all doesn’t speak to me in lofty language, with His power on display. And though blinding light covers every part of Him, I don’t think it is something He wears. Instead it seems unavoidable, like how a magnet attracts metal.
“I know you want to see My face, Andrew.” He says as the light around Him begins to shift and burst. “You might be surprised by what you see. People build My physical appearance up as of great importance.” without saying another word, He
