“Daddy!” yelled Mack, and threw himself onto the man who could not even look at his son. In the howl of wind and flame, Mack took his father’s face in his two hands, forcing his dad to look him in the face so he could stammer the words he had always wanted to say: “Daddy, I’m so sorry! Daddy, I love you!” The light of his words seemed to blast darkness out of his father’s colors, turning them blood red. They exchanged sobbing words of confession and forgiveness, as a love greater than either one healed them.

Finally, they were able to stand together, a father holding his son as he had never been able to before. It was then that Mack noticed the swell of a song that washed over them both, as it penetrated the holy place where he stood with his father. With arms around each other they listened, unable to speak through the tears, to the song of reconciliation that lit the night sky. An arching fountain of brilliant color began among the children, especially those who had suffered the greatest, and then rippled as if passed from one to the next by the wind, until the entire field was flooded with light and song.

Mack somehow knew that this was not a time for conversation and that his time with his father was quickly passing. He sensed that by some mystery this was as much for his dad as it was for him. As for Mack, the new lightness he felt was euphoric. Kissing his father on the lips, he turned and made his way back to the small hill where Sarayu stood waiting for him. As he passed through the ranks of children, he could feel their touches and colors quickly embrace him and fall away. Somehow, he was already known and loved here.

When he reached Sarayu, she embraced him as well and he let her just hold him as he continued to cry. When he had regained some semblance of coherence, he turned to look back at the meadow, the lake, and night sky. A hush descended. The anticipation was palpable. Suddenly to their right, from out of the darkness emerged Jesus, and pandemonium broke out. He was dressed in a simple brilliant white garment and wore on his head a simple gold crown, but he was every inch the king of the universe.

He walked the path that opened before him into the center-the center of all Creation, the man who is God and the God who is man. Light and color danced and wove a tapestry of love for him to step on. Some were crying out words of love, while others simply stood with hands lifted up. Many of those whose colors were the richest and deepest were lying flat on their faces. Everything that had a breath sang out a song of unending love and thankfulness. Tonight the universe was as it was intended.

As Jesus reached the center he paused to look around. His gaze stopped on Mack standing on the small hill at the outer edge and he heard Jesus whisper in his ear, “Mack, I am especially fond of you.” That was all Mack could bear as he slumped to the ground, dissolving into a wash of joyful tears. He couldn’t move, gripped as he was in Jesus’ embrace of love and tenderness.

He then heard Jesus say clearly and loudly, but oh so gently and invitingly: “Come!” And they did, the children first and then the adults, each in turn for as long as they needed; to laugh and talk and embrace and sing with their Jesus. Time seemed to have completely stopped as the celestial dance and display continued. And each in turn then left, until none remained except the burning blue sentinels and the animals. Even these Jesus walked among, calling each by name until they and their young turned to make their way back to dens and nests and bedding pastures.

Mack stood motionless trying to absorb this experience that was beyond his ability to capture. “I had no idea…,” he whispered shaking his head and gazing into the distance. “Unbelievable!”

Sarayu laughed a shower of colors. “Just imagine, Mackenzie, if I had touched not only your eyes, but also your tongue and nose and ears.”

Finally, they were alone once more. The wild, haunting cry of a loon echoing across the lake seemed to signal the end of the celebration, and the sentinels vanished in unison. The only sounds remaining were a chorus of crickets and frogs resuming their own songs of worship from out of the water’s edge and surrounding meadows. Without a word, the three turned and walked back toward the shack that had again become visible to Mack. Like a curtain being drawn across his eyes, he was suddenly blind again; his vision returning to normal. He felt a loss and a longing, and even a little sad, until Jesus came alongside and took his hand, squeezing it to let Mack know that everything was as it should be.

16 A MORNING OF SORROWS

It seemed that he had only just entered a deep sleep of dreamless rest when Mack felt a hand shaking him awake.

“Mack, wake up. It’s time for us to go.” The voice was familiar, but deeper, as if she had just woken from sleep herself.

“Huh?” He groaned. “What time is it?” he mumbled as he tried to figure out where he was and what he was doing.

“It’s time to go!” returned the whisper.

Although he didn’t think that answered what he had been asking, he climbed out of the bed grumbling and fumbling until he found the lamp switch and snapped it on. It was blinding after the pitch dark and it took another moment until he could pry one eye open and squint up at his early morning visitor.

The man standing next to him looked a bit like Papa; dignified, older, and wiry and taller than Mack. He had silver-white hair pulled back into a ponytail, matched by a gray-splashed mustache and goatee. Plaid shirt with sleeves rolled up, jeans, and hiking boots completed the outfit of someone ready to hit the trail. “Papa?” Mack asked.

“Yes, son.”

Mack shook his head. “You’re still messing with me, aren’t you?”

“Always,” he said with a warm smile, and then answered Mack’s next question before it was asked. “This morning you’re going to need a father. C’mon now and let’s get going. I have everything you need on the chair and table at the end of your bed. I’ll meet you out in the kitchen where you can grab a bite to eat before we head out.”

Mack nodded. He didn’t bother to ask where they might be heading out to. If Papa had wanted him to know, he would have told him. He quickly dressed into perfectly fitting clothes similar to what Papa was wearing, and donned a pair of hiking boots. After a quick stop in the bathroom to freshen up, he walked into the kitchen.

Jesus and Papa stood by the counter looking a lot more rested than Mack felt. He was about to speak when Sarayu entered through the back door with a large rolled-up pack. It looked like an elongated sleeping bag, bound tightly with a strap hooked to each end so it could be easily carried. She handed it to Mack and he could immediately smell a wonderful mixture of scents arising from the bundle. It was a blend of aromatic herbs and flowers that he thought he recognized. He could smell cinnamon and mint, along with salts and fruits.

“This is a gift, for later. Papa will show you how to use it.” She smiled and hugged him. Or that was the only way he could describe it. It was just so hard to tell with her.

“You may carry it,” added Papa. “You picked those with Sarayu yesterday.”

“My gift will wait here until you return,” smiled Jesus, and he also hugged Mack, only with him it felt like a hug.

The two left out the back and Mack was alone with Papa, who was busy scrambling a couple eggs and frying two strips of bacon.