He didn’t know he was dead.
He never saw the dull eyes stare back at him in the mirror, or notice the only beat he ever felt in his chest came from the bass line of the music blaring through his headphones. Emotions never penetrated the surface. Knowledge stayed suspended in his mind, never reaching the heart. Oblivious to this, he went about with the mindset he could only live for today- but that wasn’t living.
Every day, he needed more to spark a sensation of feeling. Nothing satisfied or satiated. He was jaded of thrills, numb. This process of decay was nothing new. It began the day he was born. Outwardly, there was no way to see the damage. A medical doctor’s examination would have revealed nothing. But he was dead nevertheless.
His condition didn’t only affect him. With absence of feeling came absence of care for anyone but himself. He wanted love and loyalty, but how could he expect to receive something he couldn’t give? Because of this, his family was in shreds. Numbness couldn’t protect him from hurt only worsen it. It only led him to believe everything was fine, when it wasn’t. Love was lust, joy was fleeting, and peace was a figment of imagination.
He wasn’t alone. Everyone was dead, which made it hard to see. His plight went unnoticed amongst the others with him in this graveyard. His existence spiraled downward, with no meaning, no hope.
Then he met her.
The seat beside her was the only empty spot on the bus. He didn’t want to talk, but that didn’t stop her. His response to her questions was little more then a grunt, until he realized she actually cared. She wasn’t making polite conversation; she honestly wanted to know how he was. This startled him into saying a few more words, hoping to quench her.
He found himself telling her about his day. She shared about hers. Then she asked if she could tell him something, something that meant everything to her.
She told him about life.
It was an everlasting life from a God who made the ultimate sacrifice to give it to her, to bring her from death to life. She hadn’t earned it, didn’t deserve it, and couldn’t keep the knowledge of it to herself.
He could have life. But something separated him from it. God is perfect and holy. They were not. In their sin, their disobedience and rejection of God, they were filthy, utterly helpless, like a rotting corpse. They were dead, and they were destined for a physical death that would take them to a place of unimaginable torment. But God, full of mercy and love, sent His Son to take the punishment for their sin, to free them, to make them alive. In Christ, he would have the hope of an eternity with God, and a life giving relationship with his Creator.
If he believed this, life would be his.
She had to go, it was her stop. He watched her leave, something rising in his chest as the weight of her words hit him. If what she said was true, he was in danger. If what she said was true, he needed help. He didn’t even know her name. But she had shown him a spark of light in his darkness. God made a way to bring him to life. God reached out - while he was helpless, hopeless and dead. He didn't have to continue this downward path. There was another way. He believed.
His stop came. He stepped out into the bright sun. He looked around at the faces of people passing by. Blank faces, dead faces. He could see it now. He had been in their place. They needed to know. They needed to hear about life.
He could do what she did. He could share the message. He wanted to thank her, but he didn't know if he would ever see her again.
He did know this- he wasn’t dead anymore. He was alive.
by Bethany Canaan
