Coram Deo

“Dear child, what is wrong with you?”

It’s Rob. His voice is unmistakable. I’m tempted to pretend I’m still sleeping, but I’m tired of running from fear, so I open my eyes and exhale profoundly.

“Will you go find Ethan? I need to talk with him.”

Rob rushes out into the hospital corridor. I’ve always loved that about Rob. He’s quick to put his trust in me, to believe I’ll do the right thing, whether or not trust is warranted and no matter how many times I’ve failed.

My thoughts race while I stare at mysterious stains dotting the walls of my room. I close my eyes and practice some breathing exercises a co-worker named Naranjan had shown me. I breathe deliberately for the next several minutes. Eyes still closed, I pray out loud for the first time in my life.

“Lord forgive me. I’ve been holding back, but I’m guessing you already know that. I’ve not put my trust in you, not fully, the way Ethan and the Murray’s have, or the way I’m sure my mother had. I’m tired of merely existing. I want to live. I want to know you and love you the way these others have. I want to pour out my soul for you. Lord I believe in you. I trust you. Help me with my disbelief. Help me with my distrust. Remove the fear that clogs my throat. Open my mouth so I can tell Ethan everything. Lord, unmask my voice so it will flow like a charging stream of Truth. In Jesus’ name I pray; amen.”



I open my eyes, shocked to find Ethan standing near.

“I’m listening,” he says, grabbing my hand and taking a seat.

“You heard my prayer?”

His eyes sparkle like a thousand shattered emerald stones. He nods but says nothing.

Daylight soaks the room in a glorious golden mist.  I’m empowered by the absence of the need to flee.

“I love you,” I say, full of breath and full of life. “I can’t imagine my life without you. I can’t imagine my life with anyone else.”

I squeeze his hand and he squeezes back.

“Before I answer your proposal,” I say, “I have to share something with you.”

Ethan leans against the back of his chair, keeping my hand firmly tucked inside his.

There’s no way to lead into it, so I blurt it out.

“I’ve been to heaven.”

“What do you mean?” says Ethan, leaning forward and crumpling his brow.

“After the accident, when the paramedics declared me dead, I was in heaven,” I say.

“You saw a bright light?”

“No,” I protest. “It was more than that. I stood in a place other than here.  A place with no beginning.  A place with no end. A place that flooded my eyes with startling brilliance. A place that bathed my ears in the most beautiful sounds I’ve ever heard, sounds I can only crudely identify as song originating from the very essence of love.”

Ethan listens.

“I can’t accept the experience as merely a vision. How could I rationalize the sparkling clarity? How could I explain the overwhelming sense of peace! My mother stood next to me, not a vision of her, but the very presence of her, and oh, the scent of her sweet lilac perfume! She was exactly as I had seen her in my recurring dreams, except it was really her and she was so devastatingly beautiful. I felt the softest flutter of puff swirling around my feet and it was Harley! It was really him. I picked him up and felt the weight of him, luxuriated in the purring of him. I held him and twirled and twirled. I saw my old boss Jerry and he stood in front of me and smiled and I felt unbelievably well. Then Mom leaned in, and said, 'He’s coming.'  Exactly like she had done in the dreams. And who do you think she was talking about?”

“Jesus,” says Ethan.

“Yes! That’s who I think it was too! But I’m not entirely sure because he was so unbelievably bright, so exceptionally brilliant, I couldn’t see his face, only startling light. I will never forget the magnitude of his voice that roared over me like thunder."

"What did He say?" asks Ethan.

"He said, ‘You are not finished.’ The next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital."



Ethan is quiet. I can tell his mind is working. He scans me like he’s evaluating my mental health. I know I sound completely insane, but I know what I saw. I know what I felt. I wait for Ethan to think, to decide whether or not he thinks me sane enough to marry.

Ethan’s eyes are wet. He lifts my hand to his lips and kisses gently.

“I believe you,” he says.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the little white box. He removes the dazzling beauty from its protective cushion.

“Kristen,” he says. “Will you do me the honor of accepting this ring?”

“Yes!” I scream, tears stream down my cheeks.

The fingers on my left hand are fat and swollen from the cast so Ethan slips the colossal diamond onto my right hand.

This beautiful man leans over me and we kiss, tenderly, and I weep.


KAC

The image above is by Phil Watson at: http://morguefile.com/archive/display/607890

“Coram Deo”is a Latin phrase translated, “In the presence of God,” or, “Before the face of God”.