MARIEL

5~He Would Be Okay~

He stood in a valley. Clouds rushed above his head as he looked to the sky. The clouds parted, and he heard a voice. It spoke clearly.

"Write."

Trumpets screamed. A bright light flashed and –

Fr. Jerome awoke with a start and slapped at the alarm. After several slaps, it stopped. He sighed and turned his head. Jumped a little. Mariel stood in the doorway, dressed in a black suit with a white shirt and black tie.

"We're going to be late, Dad. You can't do that. You're the priest."

Fr. Jerome scrambled from bed.

The drive to church was quiet. Neither spoke. Fr. Jerome kept focus on the sermon he would speak. He had struggled writing it this week and it had, once again, been finished later in the week than he had wanted. Still, he felt confident in the message. Despite his confidence, he felt his heart racing fast today due to his usual bout of anxiety. He would not be late, thankfully, but the dream that had played in his mind before the alarm clock screamed unsettled him.

Later, the soft chanting echoed through the Orthodox Church. The voices of the lead chanters soared majestically as the other voices guided them in soft hums. Again, and again, they sang, 'Lord, have mercy' as the Fr. Jerome prayed for the congregation and the world. The incense drifted through the air, providing a smoky haze to the atmosphere. The icons of Christ and the Saints added a sense of peace and protection to those within the church.

The congregation stood quietly, their eyes closed in prayer. They crossed themselves, bowing their heads. A young woman rocked her baby gently, back and forth. An elderly man clung to his walker and sang the hymns through a hoarse voice. A little boy held his mother's hand and stared curiously at the icon of Christ's resurrection, where he grasped the hands of Adam and Eve and raised them from Hades.

"Lord, have mercy," the black-robed men chanted in the front. "Glory to the father and to the son and to the Holy Spirit..."

When it came time for the sermon, everyone sat, and Fr. Jerome approached the wooden podium. He gripped the sides and overlooked the congregation. The sun beat through the windows and reflected against the floating dust particles and wisps of incense. Small crowd today.

Fr. Jerome spoke. "Today's gospel offers us hope, as well as a challenge. Jesus tells his disciples that He will be with us until the end of time. That's a good message of hope, especially when we hit hard moments in our lives when we feel like everything is going wrong. Jesus is with us...it's a great thing to remember. But He also offers us a challenge, and I think He would like to see if we accept it. He challenges the eleven disciples to go forth and make disciples of all nations and baptize them in the Trinity. Many people do that to this day as missionaries. But for those of us who are disciples of Christ and were not called to a life of mission work, there are other ways we can share the Gospel of Christ in our daily lives. One such way is loving our neighbor. What does that exactly mean, to love our neighbor? It means that –"

A woman screamed. Fr. Jerome stopped, and his eyes searched the crowd to find Mariel convulsing violently in the third pew.

"Mariel!" He scrambled down the steps.

Todd Caravan immediately stood and pulled out his cell phone, putting it to his ear and rushing forward from the back. The sun disappeared behind the clouds as Fr. Jerome approached his son, who was lying on the pew shaking stiffly. His eyes were open as he stared blankly at the ceiling.

"Turn him on his side, Fr. Jerome," Todd said, coming behind him, still holding the phone to his ear.

Fr. Jerome's heart raced. He could not breathe, and tears streamed from his eyes. With shaking hands, he reached to touch his son's arms to turn him over but, abruptly, Mariel stopped shaking. It was quiet, save for an old woman sobbing at the other end of the pew.