The Road

I wrote the story below when I was in high school. As I was retyping it (I had saved the original onto a floppy disk; yes I do remember those), I did some rewriting and editing. As I have grown in my faith, I realized that it was somewhat shallow on theology. So,I have rewritten sections of this and added a few things in an attempt to improve it. I share it here because I hope and pray that it will be an encouragement to you. It is simply entitled, The Road. I have broken it into three separate sections and will share it over the next three days. I have done this because it is somewhat lengthy and thought it might be more readable this way.

So, without further ado...
The Road, Part 1



The dry, brown dirt of this well-traveled road shone like a mirror in the heat of the day. The sun scorched surface passed between twin bluffs that stretched for miles and seemed to awaken even the worst fears in the bravest of individuals. It rose ominously and eerily to the sky embracing it greedily and viciously. The wind agitatedly whispered gently through the rocks and hills at pilgrims who happened to advance past these cliffs. The cliff itself, seemed to peer down from its hight plateau in the sky, curious as to the traveler passing through its domain.

How I arrived at being a witness to the events that transpired in that day, I do not know. All I do understand is that in one moment, I was here watching the progress of this lonely traveler. I stood in the middle of the road watching him advance towards me so weary and heavy laden. As he neared, I had compassion for him and offered to help with his heavy load. But he kept walking as if he had not heard or seen me. I yelled after him still offering my services, but still, no answer or acknowledgment came.
“He can not see or hear you.” A voice rose from behind me.
I turned, shocked and surprised to realize that there was someone else on this lonely road. I looked at the figure that had appeared before me. I stood in awe at the sight of him. “Surely, this cannot be a traveler!” I thought. There before me stood what appeared to be an ordinary traveler, yet...
“He cannot hear you.” He repeated.
His voice resounded off the cliffs and echoed down the path bouncing to and fro as it went. I turned to the traveler, who was not quite a distance down the road and continuing to slowly proceed away from me. I was astonished to discover that he had not even turned or reacted at the sound of this confident voice.
“Hey,” I yelled after the traveler, “didn't you hear that?”
“He can not hear me either.”
I turned back to the new traveler and stared with disbelief. “Why ever not? Is he deaf?”
“Oh no! He cannot hear or see you and me because to him, we are not here.”
“What? But I am here!” As I proceeded to poke myself and prove it.
“You will soon understand my friend. Put your mind at rest and come with me. I have something to show you.”
“Well, what is his name?” I asked, ignoring the command to follow him. “Who is he?”
“His name is Sam. He is simply a traveler on life's road. Come with me.”
“I do not even know you!”
“I am simply a messenger here to give you a message, Josiah.”
“H...o....w do you know who I am?” I stammered.
“Patience, patience, my friend. All of your questions will be answered in due time. Come, I have much to show you.” Suddenly we were flying through space until we were once again beside the traveler who was still walking slowly down the road. “Ah yes, here is he, our traveler.”

My mind raged like a river of questions searching for answers, only to be propelled with the current of another stream. My silent part refused to elucidate me. He would simply look at me, smile, and say, “Patience my friend.” And we would continue on in silence, simply following Sam.
I finally ceased all inquiry and attempted to clear my mind of questions, as it was apparent they would go unanswered. I proceeded to turn my attention to Sam. It seemed that the messenger had taken a great interest in him. I attempted to understand what was so special about him and why he invoked such interest. He appeared to be just an ordinary man. He would probably stand about six feet tall, if he were standing straight and not bent over with a load. His hair was light blond, although it appeared darker now because of the mixture of sand and dirt that layered it. His body showed signs of “couch potato” syndrome, with a beer gut to tackle all beer guts. He carried himself as one who had faced rejection many times. He drug his feet and allowed his shoulders to stoop more than necessary, even under the weight of the pack. His face showed signs of depression and weariness. It was his eyes that shocked me most though. They were black as night and hollow. It was as if this walking shell of a man was exactly that.
“He is a poor sight indeed, is he not?” the messenger inquired. “He is so full of despair. He was not always so full of anguish though. Once, he was full of life, so excited and energized. The, trials struck. He did not know how to cope because he did not have the strength of God. Anger and hatred took root in his heart. His anger and hatred fed on him until all that was left was despair and emptiness. With every progressing day, he slipped further from God.”
Menacing voices hissed mockingly around me proclaiming, “You worthless piece of dirt. You're nothing. Look what you have done. You are beyond forgiveness.” My attention was pulled from the messenger and returned to Sam. I was shocked to no longer see a desert road, but a college dorm room. A younger version of Sam and another young man were sitting at their desks, backs facing each other, and typing away. Sam suddenly stopped typing, stood up, and walked to the window. His roommate, noticing he stood up, turned and watched him for a minute.
“What's bothering you Sam?”
Sam was silent for several minutes. The young man who had spoken was silent and patient. He did not speak again until Sam had spoken.
“I don't know Ben. I am having a hard time with this paper I have to write for my bible class. We have to write a paper defending the existence of God. We are supposed to use scriptural support for his existence.” Sam fell silent.
Ben opened his mouth to speak but said nothing. He rubbed his chin with his fingers for a moment and then finally said, “Okay. What are you struggling with?”
Sam turned to face Ben. He stared at Ben for a few moments as if trying to decide if he should actually what was on his mind. Finally, he said, “I don't know if I believe in God anymore.”
Ben just looked at him for a minute. He leaned back in his chair and cupped his hands behind his head. He stared thoughtfully at Sam. “Is this about Amanda?” He spoke in a calm and understanding voice. Sam nodded his head but said nothing. Tears welled up in the corners of his eyes but did not spill forth. He bowed his head, looking at the floor.
“How can God, a loving God, allow this to happen? Why would he allow her to die? Why would he take her from me?” He looked up and saw the expression on Ben's face. “I know what you are going to say and I do not want to hear it. I have heard it all before. God knows best. She was His child and He had the right to take her home to be with Him. I even know the Psalm that says something like precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints. I just don't know if I can believe it. She loved Him first. She loved me second. She had always made that clear. She wanted to use her life to serve Him. Why, why would He take her! I hate Him for hurting me, for allowing her to die in that car accident!”
Ben was patient. He let him talk and yell. Even when his voice got louder and louder, he did not interrupt or try to calm him. He waited. When Sam was silent and spoke no more, Ben got up, crossed the room, and wrapped his arms around Sam as tightly as he could. Sam's head rested on Ben's shoulder and Sam began to weep. His body shook with violent force as they sobs flowed from his body. Ben began to cry as well and soon was weeping just as hard. They slowly sank to floor so that they were sitting with Ben's arms still wrapped tightly around Sam. After another ten minutes, both were calm and silent, their bodies weak with exhaustion. Neither one moved for another ten minutes.
Finally, Sam pulled himself free from Ben's grasp and slowly stood up. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. He slowly walked over to the computer and shut it off. Turning to face Ben, deep sadness and anger were evident in his eyes. With a tense and bitter anger in his voice he said, “I can't do it Ben. I am sorry. I cannot believe in a God who would allow such tragedy, such bad things happen to those who love Him. I cannot and will not believe in such a God.”
With that, he grabbed his backpack, began packing it with a few things from around the room, and walked out.
“When he walked away from bible college that day, he also walked away from God. He decided that there was no God, there was no life after death, there was only today. He never looked back.” The messenger looked at me with deep sadness in his eyes. It was almost a look of one who had been personally slighted by the events that took place this day.