The Shack

  best it can do is make you try harder to conform to some ethic on the outside. I’m about the inside.”

  “But, what you said. I mean, about hiding inside lies. I guess I’ve done that one way or another most of my life.”

  “Honey, you’re a survivor. No shame in that. Your daddy hurt you something fierce. Life hurt you. Lies are one of the easiest places for survivors to run. It gives you a sense of safety, a place where you only have to depend on yourself. But it’s a dark place, isn’t it?”

  “So dark,” Mack muttered with a shake of his head.

  “But are you willing to give up the power and safety it promises you? That’s the question.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Mack, looking up at her.

  “Lies are a little fortress; inside them you can feel safe and powerful. Through your little fortress of lies you try to run your life and manipulate others. But the fortress needs walls, so you build some. These are the justifications for your lies. You know, like you are doing this to protect someone you love, to keep them from feeling pain. Whatever works, just so you feel okay about the lies.”

  “But, the reason I didn’t tell Nan about the note was because it would have caused her so much hurt.”

  “See? There you go, Mackenzie, justifying yourself. What you said is a bold-faced lie, but you can’t see it.” She leaned forward. “Do you want me to tell you what the truth is?”

  Mack knew Papa was going deep, and somewhere inside he was both relieved to be talking about this and tempted to almost laugh out loud. He was no longer embarrassed by it. “No-o-o-o,” he drew his answer out slowly, and smirked up at her. “But go ahead anyway.”

  She smiled back and then grew serious. “The truth is, Mack, the real reason you did not tell Nan was not because you were trying to save her from pain. The real reason is that you were afraid of having to deal with the emotions you might encounter, both from her and in yourself. Emotions scare you, Mack. You lied to protect yourself, not her!”

  He sat back. Papa was absolutely right.

  “And furthermore,” she continued, “such a lie is unloving. In the name of caring about her, your lie became an inhibitor in your relationship with her, and in her relationship with me. If you had told her, maybe she would be here with us now.”

  Papa’s words hit Mack like a punch in the stomach. “You wanted her to come, too?”

  “That was your decision and hers, if she had ever been given the chance to make it. The point is, Mack, you don’t know what would have happened because you were so busy protecting Nan.”

  And again he was floundering in guilt. “So, what do I do now?”

  “You tell her, Mackenzie. You face the fear of coming out of the dark and tell her, and ask for her forgiveness and you let her forgiveness heal you. Ask her to pray for you, Mack. Take the risks of honesty. When you mess up again, ask for forgiveness again. It’s a process, honey, and life is real enough without having to be obscured by lies. And remember, I am bigger than your lies. I can work beyond them. But that doesn’t make them right and doesn’t stop the damage they do or the hurt they cause others.”

  “What if she doesn’t forgive me?” Mack knew that this was indeed a very deep fear that he lived with. It felt safer to continue to throw new lies on the growing pile of old ones.

  “Ah, that is the risk of faith, Mack. Faith does not grow in the house of certainty. I am not here to tell you that Nan will forgive you. Perhaps she won’t or can’t, but my life inside of you will appropriate risk and uncertainty to transform you by your own choices into a truth teller, and that will be a miracle greater than raising the dead.”

  Mack sat back and let her words sink in. “Will you please forgive me,” Mack finally offered.

  “Did that a long time ago, Mack. If you don’t believe me, ask Jesus. He was there.”

  Mack took a sip of his coffee, surprised to find that it was still as hot as when he first sat down. “But I’ve tried pretty hard to lock you out of my life.”

  “People are tenacious when it comes to the treasure of their imaginary independence. They hoard and hold their sickness with a firm grip. They find their identity and worth in their brokenness and guard it with every ounce of strength they have. No wonder grace has such little attraction. In that sense you have tried to lock the door of your heart from the inside.”

  “But I didn’t succeed.”

  “That’s because my love is a lot bigger than your stupidity,” Papa said with a wink. “I used your choices to work perfectly into my purposes. There are many folk like you, Mackenzie, who end up locking themselves into a very small place with a monster that will ultimately betray them, that will not fill or deliver what they thought it would. Imprisoned with such a terror, they once again have the opportunity to return to me. The very treasure they trusted in will become their undoing.”

  “So you use pain to force people back to you?” It was obvious Mack didn’t approve.

  Papa leaned forward and gently touched Mack’s hand.

  “Honey, I also forgave you for even thinking I could be that way. I understand how difficult it is for you, so lost in your perceptions of reality and yet so sure of your own judgments, to even begin to perceive, let alone imagine, who real love and goodness are. True love never forces.” She squeezed his hand and sat back.

  “But, if I understand what you’re saying, the consequences of our selfishness are part of the process that brings us to the end of our delusions, and helps us find you. Is that why you don’t stop every evil? Is that why you didn’t warn me that Missy was in danger, or help us find her?” The accusing tone was no longer in Mack’s voice.

  “If only it were that simple, Mackenzie. Nobody knows what horrors I have saved the world from ’cuz people can’t see what never happened. All evil flows from independence, and independence is your choice. If I were to simply revoke all the choices of independence, the world as you know it would cease to exist and love would have no meaning. This world is not a playground where I keep all my children free from evil. Evil is the chaos of this age that you brought to me, but it will not have the final say. Now it touches everyone that I love, those who follow me and those who don’t. If I take away the consequences of people’s choices, I destroy the possibility of love. Love that is forced is no love at all.”

  Mack rubbed his hands through his hair and sighed. “It’s just so hard to understand.”

  “Honey, let me tell you one of the reasons that it makes no sense to you. It’s because you have such a small view of what it means to be human. You and this Creation are incredible, whether you understand that or not. You are wonderful beyond imagination. Just because you make horrendous and destructive choices does not mean you deserve less respect for what you inherently are-the pinnacle of my Creation and the center of my affection.”

  “But-” Mack started.

  “Also,” she interrupted, “don’t forget that in the midst of all your pain and heartache, you are surrounded by beauty, the wonder of Creation, art, your music and culture, the sounds of laughter and love, of whispered hopes and celebrations, of new life and transformation, of reconciliation and forgiveness. These also are the results of your choices and every choice matters, even the hidden ones. So whose choices should we countermand, Mackenzie? Perhaps I should never have created? Perhaps Adam should have been stopped before he chose independence? What about your choice to have another daughter, or your father’s choice to beat his son? You demand your independence, but then complain that I actually love you enough to give it to you.”

  Mack smiled. “I’ve heard that before.”

  Papa smiled back and reached for a piece of pastry. “I told you Sophia got to you.

  “Mackenzie, my purposes are not for my comfort, or yours. My purposes are always and only an expression of love. I purpose to work life out of death, to bring freedom out of brokenness and turn darkness into light. What you see as chaos, I see as a fractal. All things must unfold, even though it puts a
ll those I love in the midst of a world of horrible tragedies-even the one closest to me.”

  “You’re talking about Jesus, aren’t you?” Mack asked, softly.

  “Yup, I love that boy.” Papa looked away and shook her head. “Everything’s about him, you know. One day you folk will understand what he gave up. There are just no words.”

  Mack could feel his own emotions welling up. Something touched him deeply as he watched Papa talk about her son. He hesitated to ask, but finally broke into the silence.

  “Papa, can you help me understand something? What exactly did Jesus accomplish by dying?”

  She was still looking out into the forest. “Oh,” she waved her hand. “Nothing much. Just the substance of everything that love purposed from before the foundations of Creation,” Papa stated matter of factly, then turned and smiled.

  “Wow, that’s a pretty broad brush. Could you bring it down a few notches?” asked Mack rather boldly, or so he thought after the words had left his mouth.

  Papa, instead of being upset beamed at him. “My, but aren’t you getting uppity an’ all. Give a man an inch and he thinks he’s a ruler.”

  He returned the grin, but his mouth was full and he didn’t say anything.

  “Like I said, everything is about him. Creation and history are all about Jesus. He is the very center of our purpose and in him we are now fully human, so our purpose and your destiny are forever linked. You might say that we have put all our eggs in the one human basket. There is no plan B.”

  “Seems pretty risky,” Mack surmised.

  “Maybe for you, but not for me. There has never been a question that what I wanted from the beginning, I will get.” Papa sat forward and crossed her arms on the table. “Honey, you asked me what Jesus accomplished on the cross; so now listen to me carefully: through his death and resurrection, I am now fully reconciled to the world.”

  “The whole world? You mean those who believe in you, right?”

  “The whole world, Mack. All I am telling you is that reconciliation is a two way street, and I have done my part, totally, completely, finally. It is not the nature of love to force a relationship but it is the nature of love to open the way.”

  At that, Papa stood up and gathered the dishes to take into the kitchen.

  Mack shook his head and looked up. “So, I don’t really understand reconciliation and I’m really scared of emotions. Is that about it?”

  Papa didn’t answer immediately, but shook her head as she turned and walked away in the direction of the kitchen. Mack overheard her grunt and mutter, as if only to herself, “Men! Such idiots sometimes.”

  He couldn’t believe it. “Did I hear God call me an idiot?” he called through the screen door.

  He saw her shrug before disappearing around the corner, and then he heard her yell back in his direction, “If the shoe fits, honey. Yes sir, if the shoe fits…”

  Mack laughed and sat back. He felt finished. His brain tank was more than full, as was his stomach. He carried the rest of the dishes to the kitchen and placed the stack on the counter, kissed Papa on the cheek, and headed for the back door.

  14 VERBS AND OTHER FREEDOMS

  God is a Verb.

  – Buckminster Fuller

  Mack stepped outside into the mid afternoon sun. He felt an odd mixture of being wrung out like a rag and yet exhilaratingly alive. What an incredible day this had been and it was barely half over. For a moment he stood undecided before wandering down to the lake. When he saw the canoes tied up to the dock, he knew it would probably forever be bittersweet, but the thought of taking one out on the lake energized him for the first time in years.

  Untying the last one at the end of the dock, he gingerly slid into it and began paddling toward the other side. For the next couple of hours he circled the lake exploring its nooks and crannies. He found two rivers and a couple of creeks that either fed from above or emptied down toward the lower basins, and he discovered a perfect spot to drift and watch the waterfall. Alpine flowers blossomed everywhere, adding splashes of color to the landscape. This was the most calm and consistent sense of peace that Mack had felt in ages-if ever.

  He even sang a few songs, a couple old hymns and a couple old folk songs, just because he wanted to. Singing was also something he had not done in a long time. Reaching back into the distant past, he began to voice the silly little song he used to sing to Kate: “K-K-K-Katie… beautiful Katie, You’re the only one that I adore…” He shook his head as he thought about his daughter, so tough but so fragile; he wondered how he might find a way to reach her heart. He was no longer surprised how easily tears could come to his eyes.

  At one point he turned to watch eddies and whorls made by the oar blade and stern and when he turned back, Sarayu was sitting in the prow, looking at him. Her sudden presence made him jump.

  “Geez!” he exclaimed. “You startled me.”

  “I am sorry, Mackenzie,” she apologized, “but supper is almost ready and it is time to invite you to make your way back to the shack.”

  “Have you been with me the entire time?” inquired Mack, a little ramped from the adrenaline rush.

  “Of course. I am always with you.”

  “Then how come I didn’t know it?” asked Mack. “Lately I’ve been able to tell when you’re around.”

  “For you to know or not,” she explained, “has nothing at all to do with whether I am actually here or not. I am always with you; sometimes I want you to be aware in a special way-more intentional.”

  Mack nodded that he understood and turned the canoe toward the distant shore and the shack. He now distinctly felt her presence in the tingle down his spine. They both smiled simultaneously.

  “Will I always be able to see you or hear you like I do now, even if I’m back home?”

  Sarayu smiled. “Mackenzie, you can always talk to me and I will always be with you, whether you sense my presence or not.”

  “I know that now, but how will I hear you?”

  “You will learn to hear my thoughts in yours, Mackenzie,” she reassured him.

  “Will it be clear? What if I confuse you with another voice? What if I make mistakes?”

  Sarayu laughed, the sound like tumbling water, only set to music. “Of course you will make mistakes; everybody makes mistakes, but you will begin to better recognize my voice as we continue to grow our relationship.”

  “I don’t want to make mistakes,” Mack grunted.

  “Oh, Mackenzie,” responded Sarayu, “mistakes are a part of life, and Papa works his purpose in them, too.” She was amused and Mack couldn’t help but grin back. He could see her point well enough.

  “This is so different from everything I’ve known, Sarayu. Don’t get me wrong-I love what you all have given me this weekend. But I have no idea how I go back to my life. Somehow it seemed easier to live with God when I thought of him as the demanding taskmaster, or even to cope with the loneliness of The Great Sadness.”

  “You think so?” she asked. “Really?”

  “At least then I seemed to have things under control.”

  “Seemed is the right word. What did it get you? The Great Sadness and more pain than you could bear, pain that spilled over even on those you care for the most.”

  “According to Papa that’s because I’m scared of emotions,” he disclosed.

  Sarayu laughed out loud. “I thought that little interchange was hilarious.”

  “I am afraid of emotions,” Mack admitted, a bit perturbed that she seemed to make light of it. “I don’t like how they feel. I’ve hurt others with them and I can’t trust them at all. Did you create all of them or only the good ones?”

  “Mackenzie.” Sarayu seemed to rise up into the air. He still had a difficult time looking right at her, but with the late afternoon sun reflecting off the water, it was even worse. “Emotions are the colors of the soul; they are spectacular and incredible. When you don’t feel, the world becomes dull and colorless. Just think how The Great Sadness
reduced the range of color in your life down to monotones and flat grays and blacks.”

  “So help me understand them,” pleaded Mack.

  “Not much to understand, actually. They just are. They are neither bad nor good; they just exist. Here is something that will help you sort this out in your mind, Mackenzie. Paradigms power perception and perceptions power emotions. Most emotions are responses to perception-what you think is true about a given situation. If your perception is false, then your emotional response to it will be false too. So check your perceptions, and beyond that check the truthfulness of your paradigms-what you believe. Just because you believe something firmly doesn’t make it true. Be willing to reexamine what you believe. The more you live in the truth, the more your emotions will help you see clearly. But even then, you don’t want to trust them more than me.”

  Mack allowed his oar to turn in his hands as he let it play in the water’s movements. “It feels like living out of relationship-you know, trusting and talking to you-is a bit more complicated than just following rules.”

  “What rules are those, Mackenzie?”

  “You know, all the things the Scriptures tell us we should do.”

  “Okay…” she said with some hesitation. “And what might those be?”

  “You know,” he answered sarcastically. “About doing good things and avoiding evil, being kind to the poor, reading your Bible, praying, and going to church. Things like that.”

  “I see. And how is that working for you?”

  He laughed. “Well, I’ve never done it very well. I have moments that aren’t too bad, but there’s always something I’m struggling with, or feeling guilty about. I just figured I needed to try harder, but I find it difficult to sustain that motivation.”

  “Mackenzie!” she chided, her words flowing with affection. “The Bible doesn’t teach you to follow rules. It is a picture of Jesus. While words may tell you what God is like and even what he may want from you, you cannot do any of it on your own. Life and living is in him and in no other. My goodness, you didn’t think you could live the righteousness of God on your own, did you?”

  “Well, I thought so, sorta…” he said sheepishly. “But you gotta admit, rules and principles are simpler than relationships.”

  “It is true that relationships are a whole lot messier than rules, but rules will never give you answers to the deep questions of the heart and they will never love you.”

  Dipping his hand in the water, he played, watching the patterns his movements made. “I’m realizing how few answers I have… to anything. You know, you’ve turned me upside down or inside out or something.”

  “Mackenzie, religion is about having the right answers, and some of their answers are right. But I am about the process that takes you to the living answer and once you get to him, he will change you from the inside. There are a lot of smart people who are able to say a lot of right things from their brain because they have been told what the right answers are, but they don’t know me at all. So really, how can their answers be right even if they are right, if you understand my drift?” She smiled at her pun. “So even though they might be right, they are still wrong.”

  “I understand what you’re saying. I did that for years after seminary. I had the right answers, sometimes, but I didn’t know you. This weekend, sharing life with you has been far more illuminating than any of those answers.” They continued to move lazily with a current.

  “So, will I see you again?” he asked hesitantly.

  “Of course. You might see me in a piece of art, or music, or silence, or through people, or in Creation, or in your joy and sorrow. My ability to communicate is limitless, living and transforming, and it will always be tuned to Papa’s goodness and love. And you will hear and see me in the Bible in fresh ways. Just don’t look for rules and principles; look for relationship-a way of coming to be with us.”

  “It still won’t be the same as having you sit on the bow of my boat.”

  “No, it will be far better than you’ve yet known, Mackenzie. And when you finally sleep in this world, we’ll have an eternity together-face-to-face.”

  And then she was gone. Although he knew that she was not really.

  “So please, help me live in the truth,” he said out loud. “Maybe that counts as prayer.” he wondered.

  When Mack entered the cabin he saw that Jesus and Sarayu were already there and seated around the table. Papa was busy as usual bringing platters of wonderful-smelling dishes, again only a few that Mack recognized, and even those he had to look at twice to make sure they were something he was familiar with. Conspicuously absent were any greens. He headed for the bathroom to clean up, and when he returned the other three had already begun to eat. He pulled up the fourth chair and sat down.

  “You don’t really have to eat, do you?” he asked, as he began to ladle something into his bowl that resembled a thin seafood soup, with squid and fish and other more ambiguous delicacies.

  “We don’t have to do anything,” Papa stated rather strongly.

  “Then why do you eat?” Mack inquired.

  “To be with you, honey. You need to eat, so what better excuse to be together.”

  “Anyway, we all like to cook,” added Jesus. “And I enjoy food-a lot. Nothing like a little shaomai, ugali, nipla, or kori bananje to make your taste buds happy. Follow that with some sticky toffee pudding or a tiramisu and hot tea.