I was walking toward the house.
My friend walked with me, holding my hand.
He was always there.
In fact, I couldn't imagine
what life would be like
if he were not there.
It would be emptiness.
We walked toward the house.
The destination, the map, the excitement for arrival
were all the ideas of my friend.
He wanted me to go to the house so much,
that his desire seemed to propel me.
We didn't rush.
In fact, my friend urged me to take my time,
to enjoy the view,
to help other people along the way.
But when I mentioned that I might like to travel
in a different direction,
my friend urged me to keep on the same road.
Finally, the house came into view.
It was large, white, and had a wide front porch.
As we came closer, I saw two people waiting for me,
Obviously waiting just for me.
One, the older one, sat in a rocking chair,
smiling, glad to see me.
The younger one sat on the front steps.
I knew them, even though I hadn't seen them before.
All that I knew about them
I had learned from my friend.
They were so much alike that they were one.
The younger one, the son, stood up
and offered me a glass of lemonade.
It was cold, sweet and tart.
It cleaned the dirt from my throat,
quenched my thirst,
and made me feel as if
I would never need water again.
"Come up on the porch,"
said the son.
The steps were whitewashed so brightly
that I was sure my shoes would sully them.
My friend urged me forward,
the son reached for my hand.
I saw the scars on his palm,
and knew that they were for me.
The Father smiled, and made me feel welcome.
Standing on the porch
I noticed that the door to the house
Bright light, so bright it hurt my eyes,
shown forth through the door.
The son put his hand on the doorknob,
ensuring that the door stayed open.
The Father walked through
standing across the threshold,
inviting me in.
"You must make the choice,"
"You must choose.
I want you to come in more than I can say,
but all I can do is invite you.
My son has made you clean,
given you living water.
My spirit has guided you here,
Made sure that you knew the way,
and that you knew my will.
This is the point of judgment.
Your own judgment.
Will you come through the door?
Or will you stay outside.
In the cold. In the dirt. In the rain."
The welcome mat is set.
The door is open.