Conversation with God
This short story was my last homework for the writing course I took at CityLit. The topic was: an interior monologue of somebody in hospital who lost the ability to speak and all he/she can do is smile.
They still come to see me even though the spring of my tongue has dried out and cannot guide them anymore. God Almighty, thank you for this last gift you’ve bestowed on me. Indeed I am not worthy of your grace.
The greatest fear I had has thus fulfilled. And although I’ve lost the ability to preach your Word, you have allowed me to continue helping the ones who look for you. I thank you, Lord, with all my heart for listening to my prayers and keeping me as your devout servant. Cause of what good I would be if I stopped planting the seed of faith in the hearts of those who come to me for prayer?
I feel the end is near, my Lord, but I am grateful for the comfort I take from fulfilling my mission.
They come to me with tears in their voices, asking me to help them find salvation, blind to the notion that salvation comes from within. They still don’t see that without clearing their hearts and minds of judgments towards their fellow creatures and especially towards themselves, no priest can absolve them of their sins and put them right in front of you. The road to perdition is elaborate and one can easily get lost in the alluring sorrows disguised as cunning, beautiful experiences strewed along the way.
But I see them lost, looking hopeful into my eyes and all I can do now is smile and show them verses from your Holy books for them to read out loud. All this time, I close my eyes and pray they feel and see the truth behind your wisdom.
Some of them are lost forever from your path, others are rotting with physical sickness brought on themselves by their many sins. Some come for benediction, with a smile on their face and wind beneath their wings. They are so young, my Lord, they have so many hopes and dreams. I pray you spare them the sorrows and strengthen them in their hours of need.
It isn’t always easy, my Lord. To understand and accept your ways. I’ve had my moments of doubt, of rejecting myself and my whole existence. Forgive me, My Lord for not being able to soothe my soul after my wife’s death in childbirth. I held their bodies and wept and questioned your decision. I’d have given anything to join them on the other side, but you had other plans for me. I readily gave away a second chance of being a husband and a father and joined the monastery. I became a monk, famous for my healing powers. And children from all over the country were brought in front of my eyes, welled up with tears of remembrance. The only one I couldn’t save was my son. But the end is near, my Lord. And soon I will be able to hold him again. And this time, it will be for eternity.