God's Will

         I had the distinct feeling I was dreaming.  The atmosphere of the lake as I sat on the dock was surreal.  The sky was bright and the water calm and clear.  I felt the soft breeze and the sound of frogs in the marsh lulled me into a peace that made me sigh with relief.
         The flight to Chicago was a distant memory that tugged at the edges of my consciousness.  I forgot about it when I noticed a man walking across the water.  His body absorbed the white light that surrounded his form as he came closer.  He was a young man with brown hair that curled over the collar of his tan corduroy jacket.
         “Hello, Mark,” he greeted me.
         “Do I know you?”
         “You used to know me well, until recently.  You blame me for your son’s death.  But I cannot control the free will of men.”
         “Who are you?” I whispered.
         He smiled, “I am the Creator.  I am God.  Listen to what I say.  I choose you to speak my truths.  You will teach many of what you learn here.  Acceptance, forgiveness of sins, and renewal of faith is the path to the soul’s healings.  Hear this and bring peace to the suffering.”
         “Mark?” Helen’s voice echoed in the distance.  The young man’s gentle brown eyes were the last thing I saw before I opened mine.
         My wife, Helen, held my hand, weeping tears of relief, inside a hospital room.
         “Helen? Did I make it to Chicago?” I croaked.
         “Mark, the plane crashed.  You’re the only survivor. You’re fine, but you’ve been in a coma for two weeks.  They thought you wouldn’t wake up.”
         The news sunk in. I started pulling tubes out of my arm.
         “I need to be discharged.  I have work to do.”