Imagine there’s a playground in the sky, and you don’t have to worry about falling. You can skip along the air particles, playing amongst the clouds. A young girl escapes into the atmosphere, dancing gleefully in the clouds, skipping along the air particles. She wishes she had sequestered herself here long ago, far away from the clamour of the world. She has a whole playground to herself—no one to share it with, no one to tell her it’s time to go back home.
She rolls around on top of a cloud, soft like cotton, catching a glimpse of a man’s feet wearing sandals in the distance. She stops and sits up, looking at the man who is watching her. A white robe drapes over him, a purple sash across his torso, right shoulder to left hip, curly brown hair and a beard. He is regular looking—like a handsome, middle class man, but handsome nonetheless. She realises he is not watching her, but as if he is watching over her like a parent over their child. As if he would do anything to protect her—keep all the bad things away.
Still, though, she doesn’t want him there. She escaped into the atmosphere for the purpose of escaping parental authority in the first place; she does not wish for her autonomy to be tread upon.
Night falls and she picks a star and flies to it. Trillions of light-years away, she doesn’t even know where the Earth is anymore, but she doesn’t care. The people are too loud; the place is too dark.
A planet with a ring on it, hues of red and blue, revolves by the star. She flies over to the ring, jumping from asteroid to asteroid around the planet—a cloudy green sort of colour. She saw Bugs Bunny skate on a planet’s ring before; she always wanted to try that, but to her dismay the rings are made of asteroids, not ice. She was disappointed by the cartoon’s deceit.
She travels around the planet a seventh time and sees the man standing on a faraway asteroid, watching over her again. She wasn’t frightened; there’s nothing about him that can frighten you, but she was astonished. How could someone find her so far away? He couldn’t have followed her; she’s too fast. Still, though, she doesn’t want him there.
She jumps and descends another trillion light-years to another solar system. Suddenly cold, she wraps herself with the core of the star’s heat of this solar system. She sleeps, only to wake up to see the man standing in the sun with her, watching over her as she slept. She thought only she was impervious to its scorching heat. She was touched that he watched over her as she slept, but she still didn’t want him there. She stands, turns around, and flies to another star.
This pattern continued. He was there with her at the third star, the fourth, the fifth, the sixth, and the seventh. No matter how far she traveled, and no matter what tricks she threw at him, he was always there watching over her.
Finally, she exclaimed, “Who are you?”
He wasn’t taken aback; he wasn’t even annoyed at a child disrespecting an adult. “You don’t know?” was all he said.
“You are dressed kinda weird,” she said.
He smirked. “Yes, I must admit this isn’t the normal dress style for the twenty-first century in America. But this is how we dress where I come from.”
“Where’s that?” she asked.
She was confused at his answer, but she didn’t hear any sarcasm or impertinence in his tone. It was simply an honest answer. He probably didn’t even know how to be sarcastic in an impertinent manner.
“How are you able to follow me?” she asked.
“I didn’t follow you; I’m always with you.” he said.
“How? How do you always know where I am, no matter how far I run from you?”
“My father made all this,” he said, gesturing towards the stars and planets.
“Woooowww,” she said, looking around at the endless amount of stars, galaxies, and planets. “He must be really strong!”
“Yeah, he really is. But in spite of his might, he is the gentlest, kindest, most loving guy I know.”
“Wow,” she said. “The world could really use him then.”
“The world doesn’t know him,” he said with sadness.
“Why?” she said. “Can’t he make himself known?”
“He did, sweetheart. The world just ignores him; they want nothing to do with him. But there are the significant few who know him. In fact, you know some of them.”
“They must be really lucky then.”
“Not lucky. Luck is something my father never created. It’s a term people created to justify good and bad things happening to them without cause—things they can’t understand. Others use it to avoid taking responsibility for their actions.”
“Well, I wish I knew him.”
“Oh, well, you’re talking to him right now.”
“How? You’re just you. You can’t be two people. I don’t even know your name.”
“I am my father. You’re right, though. I’m not two people; I’m three persons.”
“How is that possible?”
“Because I am that I am.”
She didn’t know what to say. She was confused, but somehow it made sense. It seemed familiar. “Who are you?” was all she could say.
“I am the Father, the Christ, and the Holy Spirit.”
She knew immediately who He was. “I’ve heard of you before. You’re really famous! But I don’t know much about you,” she was ashamed to admit.
“You’re not the only one, Church.”
“You know my name?”
“Of course! I created you, and I have a purpose for you.”
This comforted her. He smiled and she saw holes in His wrists and feet.
“What happened to You?” she exclaimed, pointing at this wrists.
He looked at His wrists, placed them in front of Him, and said, “I died for you.”
“Because I love you, and I wanted to save you from your sins.”
“But I haven’t done anything to deserve that.”
“I know, and nothing you can do will earn it, but I saved you anyway.”
“You must really love me then.”
He smiled and said, “I really do.”
She looked around, realised she didn’t know where she was, and said, “I don’t know how to get back. I’m lost.”
“You were lost, but now you are found.”
Suddenly they were back in the skies on Earth, and there was a swing.
“Oooo, a swing!” She ran over and sat on it. “Will you push me, Jesus?”
“Of course, My Bride.” He said, and started to push her on the swing.
“We’re getting married?” she exclaimed excitingly.
“Of course, but we have to wait for you to grow up first. Church, once you grow up, and the whole world knows of Me, then the time will come for us to marry.”
“Can You tell me when that’ll happen?”
“Not on this side of the eschaton, My beloved child. But stay awake; the time is coming. In the meantime, you must get back into the world to tell them about Me.”
“I can’t wait!”
He smiled and said, “Neither can I, sweetheart. Neither can I.”