oxygen tanks and angels

 the plastic rope traced around the brown carpet leading up the couch to your lovely face. nestled near your nose, it seemed to be your own halo. You asked me about hell and I talked about heaven.  I teared up. The cancer chewed your body but not your spirit. those well meaning pastors in their three piece suits of blue had dictated hell for you. calling you unclean. But you knew this Jesus-man. You told me you called out to God daily, loving him. loving him.  the dust settled around your collection of cupie dolls. I couldn’t help but see the angels fluttering in the room.

  You asked me what God required. we walked through the Bible, the same one some evangelicals had used to murder you. But this time we used it for healing. We talked about Micah 6:68, and Matthew 23. We looked at Galatians. ephesians. we scrolled through Romans 8, and popped into Genesis to see that Righteous Abraham. we talked about the dispensation of grace. Nothing but the blood of Jesus. and what was the greatest commandment of the law?

 and you helped me.

You called me to come counsel you on your faith. But you taught me. You showed me how death wasn’t getting the upper hand. You held me as i wept bitterly on your bossom. You told me you knew Jesus. You said I had so many questions. I do. But you knew i believed.

the oxygen tank clicked. wings and lights and whispers like baby’s breath. You knew God and you taught me.

It is by faith. faith. some doubt and more faith.

thank you.


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