Split Second

I was sitting reading on my couch when a hand rested on my shoulder. There was no one else in my apartment, but I immediately recognized the touch, even though I had never felt it before. I gazed upward and saw Him.

It was a smile, a sad smile, but a smile regardless and He asked, “Do you mind if I have a seat?” I said “Of course,” quickly moving the books and the remote that lay next to me. He held his hand out, motioning that it wasn’t necessary, and opted to sit at the coffee table across from me. 

There were thousands of questions I wanted to ask Him, but it seemed that His presence brought about remarkable clarity. I knew why He was here. It’s hard to describe His love. His presence was radiant. It was like being six feet from the sun, while being filled with the warmth of a Spring day.

“So,” he spoke. A smile formed once again on His face. No one really knows what happens when one transitions from time to eternity, and for everyone, it’s a little different. But for you, I wanted to have a conversation.” 

Shyness washed over me for an instant as we both stared at one another. I was waiting for Him to speak, but He continued to look at me with these eyes of longing. Even in death, He was doing this for me. I could trivialize this moment with any number of things to say, but I said what was on my heart. 

“I um…. didn’t love my Dad well. You know, my earthly father. Perhaps, it’s too late to ask for forgiveness, but is it too late to apologize?”

“To Me, never. For him, past this second, yeah.”

The curtness of His response struck me like a blow, well-aimed. His lips opened a little as He continued, “In a split second, I’m going to take away all pain and sorrow and mourning. You will only know joy and peace and redemption. You experience contrition for the last time in this split second, but it’s important that we sit with this for the time being.”

I stared into His eyes, mulling over what He said and the finality of it all, but my thoughts were interrupted by His voice.  “Yeah. Do it right this time.” He stood up, opened my door and walked through, but before the door fully closed, His face peered back and finished, “Split second’s still going.”

He closed the door. On the other side, He waits, but remains present.