Death is Love

A disease. That’s all we knew. It’s all that mattered, it’s what defines humanity. A disease...



She fell. Again. She lay there, silent, waiting for someone. Anyone. No one cared. She was just one more waiting to die in a city of the dying.



No one knew how it began. One minute everything was fine and the next everyone was rotting. Today everyone is still rotting.



How much time had passed? She would never know. She didn’t care. She raised her head and looked around. There was noise in the street in front of her. She pushed up slowly, bleeding from her fingernails, her cracked lips burning, always burning. She pushed up slowly, her throat screaming in dry agony. She screamed. Then she fell to the ground.

She lay there all night. And all morning. When the sun rose high enough to cast light into the alley where she lay, she stirred. Refreshed but still groggy she rolled over.

‘Where am I?’ she thought.

No one was around. It surprised her. She had thought. A question even. She had been so tired earlier that she couldn’t frame a thought. After the excitement had worn off she tried to answer her own question. As hard as she thought she couldn’t answer her own question. As hard as she thought she couldn’t quite remember how she had gotten there and she couldn’t see beyond her immediate surroundings. There was nothing to indicate where she was.

She sat up. This was surprising considering that she could barely crawl last night.

‘It must be the sleep and the war, sun.’ she concluded.

She forgot that she hadn’t been able to feel temperature for months, or was it longer? She never gave it a second thought, it had been so long ago.

As she looked around she saw a man sitting against the alley wall. He was wearing a hood pulled down low and his face and hands were wrapped in bandages so she couldn’t see what he looked like. Not that she would want to. If he was wearing that many bandages he had to be hideous.

“Hello.”

The man had spoken to her. She wasn’t sure how to react.

“I was wondering when you would wake up. Would you like some water?”

He had spoken again. He had offered her water. Now she was totally speechless. Who was he?

“Sh-aack-... s-u-r-e.”

She had to speak slowly or her throat would dry and crack. It almost had.

He lifted a canteen and handed it to her. She reached out and took it. It was all she could do to not choke as she gulped down the pure water. How long had it been since she tasted water? But this was more than water. It was like drinking a diamond. It felt good as it tumbled down her dry husk of a throat. It felt like a blessed kaleidoscope of ice had been poured down a dry well. Th individual drops each felt like a different shining color on an old, cracked, blank canvas.

Then it began to burn. It had been so long since she had drunk anything that the water was actually burning her throat.

She dropped the canteen and gagged. She felt lightheaded from the pain and the cool refreshment in the pit of her stomach. Her body was at war with contradictory sensations. The coolness won. She breathed hard with relief.

“It’s been a while since you’ve had anything to drink, hasn’t it?” the man asked.

She nodded silently, thankfully.

“Don’t worry, I have plenty more.” He leaned back against the wall again.

She ran a hand through her brittle hair, raking out clumps. She sighed and began to cry. It hurt to cry, her tears were saltier than normal from dehydration and they burned her already sore eyes. She rubbed her eyes because of the pain. It just made it worse but she couldn’t help it.

Blood from her hands flowed down her face mixed with tears, staining her flesh yet another color.

“Don’t cry, I can’t stand to see anyone cry.” the man pleaded. “I have some news that will chase your tears away. Please stop crying and listen.”

She looked up, incredulous. What kind of news did he have?

“All better now?”

She nodded.

“Good. First of all, this disease has been present for almost the entire history of man. However only recently have the effects become visible. The disease that everyone sees is really the visible, outer manifestation of man’s inner corruption.”

“What do you mean? How could I be sick and not know it?!” she croaked, her throat having been lubricated by the water.

“How would you know what sight was like if you were born blind? Think, have you symptoms gotten any worse? Is the ‘disease’ progressive? In all the time since that day I haven’t seen a single person get worse. This disease is a reflection of a heart that has rebelled against God. God is perfect and incorruptible but long ago man declared rebellion against God and, in the process, purity. Thus, since we are born in a state of enmity purity we are born corrupt in our very hearts. This corruption of the heart is now reflected in the state of our physical bodies. The wicked heart of man has brought death to the body.”

“You said this would cheer me up, it isn’t working,” she interjected.

The man sighed. “I suppose you are right, but this is an important part, I’m getting to the point. Here, have some more water.” He handed her the canteen. She took it and drank deeply.

“Like I said, the situation is remarkably analogous to being born blind. First of all, like being born blind, it prevents you from seeing something, and like the blind man cannot see colour it is not any less real for going unseen. Because of sin, our rebellion, and the corruption that goes with it we cannot perceive the truth of the spiritual realm. Part of that changed with the disease though. Our eyes have been opened to the reality of our spiritual depravity. Secondly, like being blind from birth, we have no concept of colour so we are completely unconscious of it’s existence and any need to look for it. And lastly, to the blind man, colour sounds like madness, much the same to fallen diseased man. All this talk of sin and the spiritual realm sounds like insanity to those who are most in need of seeing. That doesn’t change the truth any more than a blind man not seeing colour would make colour untrue.” The man finished speaking and drifted into reverie.

She drank again and waited. They sat in silence as the shadows began to lengthen.

Her throat had been refreshed by the water and felt much better.

As she had been sitting there she had been thinking and as she thought, a question had formed. She spoke at last.

“If we *are* born “blind” like you say, how you know all this and can “see”?”

“Ah, we come to the heart of it! I was given my sight back so to speak. This happened before the disease came, or became visible rather. Consequently, I was never ‘sick’ after the disease came.”

“What? What’s with the bandages then?”

He reached up and pulled back the hood slowly, looking directly at her. His face was whole, unblemished by disease.

She gasped. She reached out to touch him but pulled her hand back as she realized what she was doing. He caught her hand in his.

“It’s alright. Do not be afraid.” he said.

She began to cry. The tears were no less salty and the burning was no less but that was not what hurt most. What hurt most was the realization of her blindness and the sight of his wholeness, his... peace. He was at peace in a world gone riot under the influence of a disease. She wanted that peace. She wanted it so badly it hurt. It hurt more than acid tears or swollen eyes, or bleeding nails, or her throat as it burned and tore as she cried out in pain. Her desperation. It was too much, too much...

He held her close as she screamed and cried, and spit out blood and pieces of her torn throat.

“Why!? Why do you care? Don’t touch me! You’re *clean*! Don’t touch me, I’m filthy and sick!” The words tore from her raw throat. I t was her instinct. All she knew was that she had to keep the only clean thing in this world of disease pure.

“Shhhh... Calm down, calm down, it’s ok, it’s ok...” he said, soothing her hysteria.

When she finally calmed down he handed her the water again.

“I care because God loves you, because God loves you, I love you. He sent me to find the lost and the broken, the sick and the scared. He made me whole so I could share the good news with those who are still sick and lost, and tell them how they can be made well by Him. God sent *me* right to *you* just for *you* because He love you enough to die for you even while you were His sick, filthy enemy. That’s why I care.”

“Why!?” she sobbed.

“Why what?” he followed gently.

“Why would God love me? Why would God send you to me? Why don’t more people know or care?” she rambled.

“God loves you because you’re His daughter. He created you, that’s why He love you and that’s why He wants you to love Him instead of rebelling. The reason that everyone is sick and no one cares is because they love their rebellion more than God. They would rather stay how they are and do what they want than be cleaned and changed so they don’t love their rebellion more.”

She sat there sobbing her too-salty tears for a long time while he waited silently, just being there.

She stopped crying. She reached out for the water and drank deeply.

“How do I stop rebelling and love God?” she asked, straightforward and full of purpose now.

“Well, God sent His Son, Jesus to die for us, to take our corruption on Himself to be judged for us. Only one who never rebelled against God was pure enough to be able to be judged for another. Jesus never rebelled and became that perfect sacrifice on our behalf . But more than that, the third day after Jesus died for us, He came back to life and exited the grave. He defeat corruption and death in one smooth motion. Do you believe that Jesus died, taking your corruption away and rose again on the third day and that God loves you and you to love Him back? Do you repent, or change your mind about your previous sin? Do you leave it behind to receive God’s love?”

Yes, yes I believe and repent.” she murmured. “What now? What do I have to do to respond to this love and be healed?”

Without a word the man reached into his pocket and took out a small mirror. He held it up for her to look.

She stared.

She screamed with joy.

She was clean.

Up she jumped.

“How? What did I do? Thankyouthankyouthankyou!!!” she bubbled as she hugged him.

“All you had to do was to believe the good news about Jesus and repent of your sins. That’s all, then you were cleansed.”

She looked back at the mirror and at him. She whirled her head around lost in a flood of elation, joy and wholeness.

He thanked God silently and rejoiced with her and waited. The initial confusion and rush of excitement wore off after a bit.

“Let me show you something.” he said, holding out his hand.

She took it and followed him. They walked to the end of the alley that they had been in. Then to the end of the street until they saw someone else.

She stopped, and she stared.

“They’re not diseased...” she spluttered.

“Look closer.”

She concentrated a bit more and then she saw it. The telltale signs of the disease. She turned to him, puzzled.

“They’re sick and corrupted, but not nearly as bad as before.”

“What you saw before was a part of the spiritual realm, and you were scared of people. No one was physically sick like you thought, you saw their spiritual ailment. Now the fear has been healed, and you can see people’s spiritual sickness but you are no longer a captive to terror, you are set free in God to see or not to see the spiritual realm.”

“If it was all in my head, how did you know?” she said as she turned to face him, confusion once again evident on her face.

“God told me how you saw things and guided me as I talked to you. I am similar, I see things kind of like you so I knew a bit about where you were at but God had to lead me and show me how to reach out to you in love.” he said.

“Thank you for coming to me telling me.”

“You’re welcome, but thank God more.”

She lifted her eyes.

“Thank you God.”