“You should do it.” He directed. This time, I wasn’t going to. This time, I will actually go and do what I want for once. I have done everything else my father has asked of me, why can’t I just go my own way for once? I took a step out, turning off the planned road to walk down an unpaved one, knowing and ignoring the fact that I would be brought back. I know what is good. I know what the right thing is to do in this situation, the one that will help people and improve their lives. This time, I wanted to be bad and not do the expected and good. Out I ran, the salty spray combined with the harsh wind lashing against my face, almost like it wants to drag me back from the other path. I turn my head and catch a glimpse of the ocean, its mighty waves crashing and the water stretching all the way out to the horizon. I lean against a tree to both catch my breath and admire the view. It the hits me. I’m free. I’m free from the commands my father dishes out, free to make my own decisions. I know, though, that I will never be fully free. He knows me, every part of me, and he knows my every move. A large raindrop landing on my head interrupts the spiral of thoughts. Another drop, then another. Soon I am racing to find shelter from the unrelenting rain. Logically, I know that here, there is only the one place to find shelter. The one place I didn’t want to go, didn’t want to be anywhere near today. I was finally free, or free enough, and then to be brought back here… Puffing, my eyes adjust to the surroundings. Not that I needed them to, in my mind’s eye I have every inch of this place committed to memory. It took longer than normal, but soon I was approaching the walls. Like I was drawn to them, I gently run my hands over the jarring rockface, vividly seeing the dried paint over the once plain wall. I close my eyes and rock back and forth, mentally fighting all the memories trying to take over. Eventually, they consume me, and my mind fills with all the flickers of what has occurred between these familiar rock walls. The dancing, the laughing, the crying, the comforting, the sharing, the secrets. The painting. Every moment, every event, every major turning point has been recorded on these walls. It is a timeline of us. All the way from my first steps to my first mission to the campfire last night, it is all here. I recoil back, blinking furiously as a beam of sunlight shatters the darkness that was protecting me from fully seeing the paintings. As I adjust, I notice the spotlight that the ray of sunshine has created, shining on one specific painting. The painting that took me hours and hours because I didn’t want to forget any part of it. As if in a dream, I slowly make my way over to the one image I am sure will bring me back to my mission. There she is smiling into the light just as she was smiling at me when I am sure she thinks I performed a miracle. Her family surrounding her, all radiant despite the condition they were in before I came. This painting shows me the joy I can bring to people, the happiness that many people don’t have and the many missions I have been on, all of them bringing goodness into the world where there might not be much. The rain had cleared with the shaft of light, and I say goodbye to the cave I love. I say goodbye to the unpaved path as I walk across the sand, ready to do all of Father’s missions as I know that I am not doing them for myself, I am doing them for everyone else, all the people that I can love and the world that I can change for the better.
Anyone recognize it? Based off the story of Jonah in the bible- Jonah 1-3 https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Jonah%201-3&version=NIV