Unlike yesterday, I now knew who I was. Who I had been, however, remained in the murky fog suffocating my memory. Staring through the gray gloom, hearing the bustling stillness of a hospital dawn, I shivered with fear from having lost myself, remembering being adrift with no sense of who I was, recognizing no one, understanding only that something was terribly wrong.
A couple hours ago, when I knew my wife again, she reminded me of our children, and then I could see them—yes, there, as well as two grandchildren. But no, she, my wife, Mary, that is, she shook her head—what I pictured was from five years ago. We actually had three grandchildren, and everyone lived somewhere else. After she explained, I thought I could picture them that way, but perhaps not.
The doctors said that though my amnesia had been global, it was also transient and I should fully recover. But what if I didn’t, especially since they didn’t know the cause, only what it was not: not a stroke, not Alzheimer’s, not dementia. What if everything, everyone became misplaced again, including me?
A nurse stomped in to take my blood pressure and ask, “How are we doing?” before squeaking away. I closed my eyes, squeezed them until I saw pinprick stars, and concentrated on recalling my life. Blank. I forced myself to breathe slowly, thinking perhaps I should pray.
“Jerry.” I recognized rather than heard my wordless name which began reverberating through the room, loudly silent. My body thrummed with a profound consciousness of me, Jerry. I felt terrified, exhilarated, bewildered, and utterly at peace. I had no sense of standing or dancing or lying down, merely that my whole self was fully relaxed.
Then sparks within my eyes exploded until I and the world was suffused with light—not a brightness I could see but more a deluge of water or a tornado of air arousing all my senses, so intensely blazing that the glare of a desert summer sun seemed blacker than the deepest cave. Rushing and chaotic, spinning everything upside down with frenzied disorder until nothing was where or what it had been, yet all finally rested as it was supposed to be. Including me.
From that impossibly iridescent radiance came the realization of Himself, God, the Lord Almighty, I AM. I resounded with Him in such joy, such abandonment of all I thought I was, and reveled in all He knew me to be, in all He is. The shimmering purity of Him, so holy and sacrosanct, absolutely spotless and whole; the totality of truth, the fullness of integrity, the unity of honor and justice: Oh, God.
And I saw myself coated in a putrid unguent of fomenting, decaying refuse—no, I oozed rank rottenness from my inner being. The garbage was me while He was Himself. I couldn’t breathe. I had to get away before I soiled him, blotted even the most miniscule flicker of His light with the darkness of me.
“Lord, cast me away. I don’t deserve to live, I cannot live in your presence.”
“Jerry,” He spoke without a voice and I trembled. “Look.”
I peered at a point just beyond my bed where the essence of Light somehow intensified into a more lustrous sphere that remained entirely Himself.
“That, Jerry, is how I see you.”
“How can that be? I am so filthy, every bit of me.”
“No, my child. You love my Son so are washed in his blood. To me you are clean-white, a dazzling luminescence.”
“I know Jesus’ death covers my sins, but you must be able to see through that cloak, to see inside how disgusting I really am.”
“I deal not in half measures. Inside out, you are a transparent rainbow flash, a most precious firework display I adore watching. All of Me loves all of you in Christ Jesus.”
The fragrance of every flower ever created infused me with His delight, warming me to a red-hot ember beneath His gaze, and I knew Love. I floated in His unconditional, undeniable, unending acceptance—eternally embraced, enveloped, and enthralled.
“Ah, Jerry, I love you.”
I found myself curled on my bed, weeping as ecstasy dissolved, as wondrous joy saturated me, becoming a permanent part of me.
Unlike a moment before, I now knew who I was. I knew who I am and who I will always be.
The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.
Accept Jesus as Your Lord and Savior Right Now - CLICK HERE
JOIN US at FaithWriters for Free. Grow as a Writer and Spread the Gospel.