What does faith feel like?
Is it warm?
Does it embrace you back?
Or is it solid, smooth and clear like ice?

Is doubt the Devil?
Do you ever entertain him even for a second?
Or just bore the be jesus out of him forever?

Will you miss me in Eternity?
Or are there contingencies for brothers you loved?
Will the having loved me be enough in the absence of my soul, presumably somewhere far away and suffering?

Am I far away and suffering enough for you now?
Is this practice?

What about my baby boy whom you adore as you did me once?
Will he need to be baptized by something other than this fire we're living?
Does he really need your slap-happy Savior to be sinless?

Do you miss me in this Eternity?

Do you ever get angry at Him, your sad hippy? Could a brother ever matter more?
Do you really believe it's Satan and not me that's asking?

'Cuz I'm asking.

Questions that I did ask my born again sister, given that we're still talking.

Faith is warm.  It embraces you like no lover could.  Like no parent ever could.  Like even your own child is unable to do.  It gives you strength to persist through darkness, when all hope seems to be gone.  It means you are never alone, even if there is no-one else in sight.  Even if you are surrounded by people who have no interest in your interests whatsoever.  Faith means the power to go on.  Faith is comfort, reassurance, tonic and stimulant.  

Faith is not solid and smooth.  There is always doubt, creeping in at the edges.  Even Jesus himself was not certain.  Doubt is the Devil, but the Devil is in all of us.  We are only human, after all.  At our weakest, we all have reservations about whether we've made the right decision.  With faith, though, we always come back to the fold.  We always see that momentary doubts were always just that - momentary.  And when faith is clear, it is clearer than ice, clearer than mountain air, clearer than the clearest day.

She will miss me in eternity more than she can possibly describe.  The fact that many of those she loves most dearly will not be with her in heaven causes her more distress, more grief, more pain than any other fact.  There have been many sleepless nights, many internal and external rages, many tears, much biting of nails and grinding of teeth.  Having loved me will never be enough.  Still, we are all only finite.  To be in heaven is to be in the presence of God, and however much that pains her, being with God is more than being with any person.  Being with God is being with the infinite good.  She will mourn me every day from now until the end of time.  But God's will is absolute.  There are no contingencies for brothers you loved.

All the suffering I will have in this life is no sort of practice.  The suffering of being apart from God for all time will be so much worse than anything any person has ever managed to put into words.

My son is young, but youth is no get-out clause.  She hopes that he may still see the light, in a way that she thinks I probably never will.  But if the end comes today, his fate will be no different from mine, and it is the worst fate imaginable.

I am her brother.  She knows I love her as she loves me.  She knows it is me asking, and she knows I worry about her, just as she worries about me.  I matter more to her than any other person but her own children.

She has tears in her eyes, but she is glad I am asking.  She is glad we are talking.  She is glad we have always been able to talk.  Because even if she will soon lose me forever, at least we will have had each other whilst we were on this earth, which is better than nothing, and better than some brothers and sisters have.



These were not my sister's exact words.  I showed her Audie's node and fitted what she had to say about it accordingly.  I didn't have to change too much though.

To Audie, I hope you manage someday to make peace with your sister.  I know I am not the most important thing in my sister's life, but she is the most important thing in mine.  Perhaps that gives me some small measure of the kind of comfort she gets from her faith.  Love conquers all, in the end.


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