#56 Dialogue
The mortal pleaded. He asked,
“When will the miracle arrive, Lord? Days gone to weeks, then months, then a year now. Still—nothing. When will it arrive?”
The Almighty answered,
“Haven’t you counted? Haven’t you looked?”
The mortal pressed on, his voice strained,
“The routine of the world rotating, the day and night recurring—such matters are constant, trivial to the ever-increasing need we have. Oh, dear Lord, please let us fathom the mercy you meant for us all.”
The Almighty replied,
“Oh? You no longer count those as miracles now?”
The mortal hesitated, then spoke again,
“I… we… those are—essentially—that is what we need right now.”
The Almighty questioned him,
“Weren’t you hungry? Weren’t you thirsty? Were you not in need of rest? Were—”
The mortal cut in,
“Terribly inadequate.”
The Almighty answered without anger,
“Tell that to everyone with very much the same color of needs as you do. And to be fair, I only give what you actually need. Not much, not less. Can you not see the miracle in that?”
The mortal argued,
“What use is water for a man drowning in debt? What use is food for children poor in appetite for knowledge? What use—”
The Almighty countered,
“From what I see, you are already living a luxurious life compared to others, don’t you think so? Is it not unfair to the man on the brink of death while I play favorite?”
The mortal raised his voice,
“You, in your almighty omnipotence and omnipresence, should pose such impossibilities inconsequential—trivial to you who are the Most High. With the flick of a finger, you could—”
The Almighty interrupted,
“What would that do to you?”
The mortal answered plainly,
“Salvation.”
The Almighty spoke firmly,
“While you still have bread on your table, wine in your cups, a warm bed to sleep on each night—filled with dreams you so make sleepless as you ponder over your failure. To seek salvation when you can already save yourself. If I grant your desire—everyone’s desire—and all of it, what would that make me?”
The mortal replied,
“Our Savior.”
The Almighty answered,
“A servant.”
The mortal lowered his voice,
“Then at least take my life. I grew tired of such daily routine of hardship. But please, in exchange, save my family.”
The Almighty responded,
“Oh, if that were just so easy—and wise. Tell me, how many have already asked, and terribly so, done it? And what do you think such a thought would make me?”
The mortal said,
“The savior of our loved ones.”
The Almighty answered,
“A murderer.”
The mortal begged,
“Oh, come on. Please—just this once—”
The Almighty replied,
“Like the many ‘onces’ I’ve already heard. Just like the ‘onces’ I’ve already heard from you. For… how many times has it been?”
The mortal pleaded again,
“But, Lord… Lord, our Savior, Almighty, One Above… please, just this once—one last time. Then after, you can forget about me. I’ll keep the faith—”
The Almighty answered,
“I am not too fond of abandonment.”
The mortal confessed,
“I already feel abandoned anyway.”
The Almighty asked,
“The same way you renounced?”
The mortal replied,
“That was faith thrown out of frustration. I know I don’t deserve your love anymore, but—”
The Almighty said,
“No. You are just the same as others.”
The mortal faltered,
“I… uh…”
The Almighty repeated,
“You are just the same as others.”
The mortal apologized,
“I’m sorry—”
The Almighty spoke with weight,
“Children. My own children. I can’t simply… I’m disappointed that you have this idea of me—that I abandon souls who have gone astray.”
The mortal asked quietly,
“Did you not?”
The Almighty answered,
“Did I what? Leave you to be eaten by your own despair? Let you go when you clearly needed my guidance? Or let you drown in fear, guilt, your own sins—all the while you were the one who—no. You are children. Innocent. Young. Fragile.”
The mortal demanded,
“Why the hardship and all this… this pain, this suffering, when you say you want to help us?”
The Almighty answered,
“I cannot help you if you immediately, again and again and again and again, help yourself back into the same old problem. And clearly, the solution to the question you keep asking—no matter how much larger or grander it becomes—the answer is always simple. And no, faith has got nothing to do with it.”
The mortal asked once more,
“But can you not make an exception? Just this once?”
The Almighty replied,
“Have you read the Bible? I’ve made many exceptions already, and my tales cannot be compared—a single soul’s suffering against the vast sea of eternity encompassed by the souls I have already saved. Unfortunately, not everyone was saved from the flame.”
The mortal asked,
“What should I do then?”
The Almighty answered,
“Funny how you miss the whole phrase by only saying what you deem more important.”
The mortal asked,
“What?”
The Almighty said,
“‘Keep the faith.’ ‘Have faith.’ Faith this, faith that—you’ve all forgotten the whole prayer. Perhaps that is how things became simpler and simpler until they crumbled apart.”
The mortal begged,
“I… I am not understanding what you are telling me. Please, just give me the answer. I beg of you.”
The Almighty answered,
“Let go.”
The mortal asked,
“What?”
The Almighty repeated,
“Let go and keep the faith.”
The mortal echoed,
“Let go?”
The Almighty answered,
“Let go and keep the faith. This is what I have always taught you when you are in times of trouble, uncertainty, made-up delusions of fear, and even in times of temptation.”
The mortal cried out,
“How could we let go if we are struggling to hold on? Do you simply want us to die a dog’s death—”
The Almighty answered,
“Let go and have faith.”
The mortal pleaded,
“We are dying here. We are suffering. We need help—”
The Almighty answered,
“Let go and have faith.”
The mortal accused,
“How could you… is this your roundabout way of abandoning us?”
The Almighty answered,
“Who said I was abandoning?”