by Nate Allen
his dad is saying it to him instead of his body. His mother tries to say a few words but can’t speak through her tears.
On the opposite side of the bed, two young identical women are standing next to each other with their heads hung. They can’t be older than twenty. “We weren’t even born when you went to sleep, Evan.” The one on the left says. “But, you will always be our big brother. I wish we could have known you.” The one on the right doesn’t say a word but instead makes signals with her hands while the one on the left translates: “You have always been my angel, Evan. I love you. And I’ll miss you.”
Evan turns to each person in his family with a warm smile. He doesn’t say a word. I think this moment alone feels like Heaven to him, because his life has been given back to him. And even though he doesn’t get to stay with them, simply knowing they have always been here for him is enough. He doesn’t have to say anything. It’s clear by his expression.
He looks down at the timer once more. And with a nod of the head he begins to step back toward me.
“You were right,” he says quietly, leaving his “real life” to continue on behind him. “This does change a lot.”
“Maybe it’s exactly what you needed to let go of your hate toward Him.” I continue to watch his family. The agony and grief is heavy in the room but their love is undeniable. He will have many people at his funeral; I don’t think I’ll have any. I left no lasting impression in this life. I died completely alone. He’s been in a coma for at least twenty years and his impact is great. I can’t help but envy him. I can’t help but wish that I had meant more…
“Yeah.” He stands next to me again while flashing me the timer: 00 D 00 H 06 M 02 S. “I don’t hate Him any—I’m grateful.”
“This is nothing compared to what’s coming.”
He looks at me with a strange expression. I don’t think he believes me. Then again maybe this moment is so bright to him that it seems to be the pinnacle. I don’t fully know what his life in the counterfeit has been detail for detail but I know that he has been lost in the darkness, where hope was used as a hook, and happiness was always purposely placed far out of his reach. In many ways he’s been in Hell for the last twenty years.
And in that sense I can’t really relate to Evan. I was just as close to Hell as him but I was never as far down in the dark as he was. When I first saw The Light it was like a switch had been flipped in a dark room and everything I had denied suddenly made sense. The Light showed me what I had always been missing. But, to say that I was in the same hell as Evan simply isn’t true.
The Light gave me complete sight. But, The Light for him is foreign. He was a drowning man pulled to the surface. Every breath is a new experience. Every moment is a discovery. And if getting to see his “real life” again is already Heaven to him, I can’t imagine he will even be able to take a step once he feels the waves of The Father’s presence.
“I can hear the ocean,” he says quietly. “The crashing of waves.”
I hear it too, distant but growing louder by the moment.
5
His family begins to glitch as the sound of the waves increase. Evan looks down at the timer. It reads all zeroes now. It’s hard to say exactly what’s going on in the hospital room. A doctor is in the room one moment, a nurse the next. Their movements are random, like we’re being shown a series of photographs. How fast time is moving now is impossible to gauge. Evan’s body has died but everything that follows after is random and unclear.
Evan is no longer even watching what’s happening in the room. He has turned to look back through the doorway. We are starting down at the very bottom of Heaven, because the waves of His presence only come up to our ankles. The same simple dirt road leads into a land of bright green hills that go higher and higher and higher. It’s thousands of feet up, a much higher climb than when I came here with the man from the cabin. The waves are short folds of air, ankle high but quickly deepening.
“It’s warm,” Evan says with a smile. “Where does it lead?”
“I’ve never been where it leads. But, everybody here talks about The City. Somewhere at the top of those hills, God the Father sits on His Throne. He is the Center of everything, and His waves cover the entirety of Heaven. If it feels warm now, it will completely consume you soon enough.”
Evan’s eyes are filled with childlike wonder as he looks toward the top of the hills. “Let’s get going.” He takes the first step forward, passing through the doorway and into eternity.
I step through the doorway too. And when I turn around to see what’s behind us, the doorway to the hospital room is gone, revealing that we truly are at the beginning of Heaven. And what I see at eye level is an endless line of doorways running horizontally in both directions, while up above, a countless number of doors are suspended in the air, each holding the name of another person. Random doors are constantly lowering from their place and filling the empty doorways. And people of all different shapes, sizes, and colors step through their doorway and into eternity.
“I don’t know your name,” Evan says as he turns toward me.
“It’s Andrew.” I say as I look back toward the top of the hills.
“Thank you, Andrew. You saved me.”
“You still have a lot to learn, Evan.” I say as I take my first step forward.
Author’s Note
I am a father, a husband, and a man who loves Jesus with all my heart. But, I am also a man who hates what Christianity has become. I hate being affiliated with a title that so poorly represents our King. And I have dedicated my life to changing that one word at a time. My hope is that The Counterfeit brings about a change in how we treat the lost and how we follow our Lord.
There is definitely more to come. Like my Facebook page to follow me on this journey. I appreciate the time you’ve taken to read my work.
Sincerely,
Nate Allen
Acknowledgements
To my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. You have brought me through the darkest of times over and over again. You are the only hope in a hopeless world. And I can only hope my work represents You well.
To my beautiful, beyond -words Wife. You have been my confidante, my best friend, and helped me turn this work into something I am very proud to attach my name to. (I mean, just look at that cover, folks!)
To my daughter. Oh, sweet baby girl. You have given daddy a purpose and a drive that no one else can. You are a true gift to your mother and I and undeniable proof that God is unimaginably beautiful.
To Mom. You have been the one true constant in my life since dad passed away. Through trial and countless storms you have stood strong. If I were to point to one Christian walk to view as a perfect example, it would be yours, because anyone can stand strong when the sun is out, but few can remain a rock when the storm continues to rage on.
To Seth-Pong. A worthy ping pong opponent and an awesome little brother!
To Brother (cue an endless list of Arrested Development quotes). Even from our place on “the moon,” know that you are a driving force of inspiration. Everyone needs the brutally honest. And had you not always criticized my writing in the beginning, I would have settled for mediocre instead of striving for so much more.
To Dad. Your death was never something I thought I would accept. But, I have. I understand that you had to leave in order for me to become the man God has created me to be. You were a warrior for Christ and have left me with a great picture of what a bold man of God is supposed to look like. So, until that day comes when we reunite again, I’ll keep running the race.