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I’m trying, desperately actually, to figure it all out. Everything that has happened is coming to a catastrophic end. But I’ve learned something. I’ve learned that my favorite words in the whole English language are when said genuinely with vulnerability, “I’m struggling.” Everything that I’ve seen in my short 19 years has made me into something so far from what I was originally intended for. And now in this moment I can appreciate the bravery in others  that I never had.

I always played the right part. I had it all under control, or so it seemed. I thought that time was on my side that I would have enough of it to get myself together. I was wrong. Now I am out of time. There are no more chances to get it together.

I feel the familiar sting of my heart trying to decide whether it’s happy or sad or both at the same time. The oh so familiar sobs rip through me and I know that it’s not quite over, but it will be soon. How I wish that I would have had the courage to just confess how real my struggle actually was and still is even in this moment.

I know that the voices aren’t in my head. They are everywhere calling for me. Everything is changing and I don’t know where to go. That longing deep in my heart tells me one thing and my head tells me another. I have to make a choice or the choice will be made for me.

A singular voice pushes past all the others and calls to me. It is big and deep and intimate and comforting and intimidating all at the same time. The voice stirs me and says, “You know Me. I’ve been waiting for you. But so have they. Choose now.”

Another voice is with me, one that is far less magnificent, but comforting all the same, “It’s almost the end now. Can you hear Him?” I see the very tangible face of my oldest friend. I’m still scared, but I know we’re in this together. But we’re not. He has made his choice. That magnificent voice has called to him and he has answered.

“Rich…” he turns his head towards me, “I’m scared, I don’t know what to do. He’s calling me, but so is everyone else.” The tears flow from my eyes and slide down the sides of my temples.

Rich takes my battered hand and holds it tight. “There isn’t time to think Charlie, just do it, answer Him. Don’t listen to anyone else. I’m right behind you.”

Feeling myself slipping away I whisper into the night, “Okay I’m choosing. Whoever You are, I am choosing You.” As soon as the words leave my mouth I hear the magnificent voice laughing and crying out in joy. Then there’s a flash of bright light.

I am standing in a great room. I don’t even question how I am standing, I know the answer to that question. I look at the face that belongs to that magnificent voice. It is timeless, both young and ancient. It is the most beautiful face, but it is so familiar. I am overwhelmed by the sheer joy that graces it. Perfection.

I am suddenly aware of my own imperfection. I fall down on my face weeping. “Boy, why are you crying?”

“Sir, I don’t belong here.”

“Of course you do. You chose to be here. I heard you.”

“This is a perfect place. I’m not perfect.”

“Oh, but you are. I don’t make imperfect things. Yes, you were fallen, but that is why I sent my Son. He vouched for you. And now it’s as if you were perfect the whole time.You are now one of my children.” A gentle hand touches my face and holds it there. In that moment I know. And new fresh tears that are composed of contentment and security flow and look up at my new Father. He smiles at me and there are tears in his eyes too.

Losing all composure I launch myself into his arms. We are like that for a long time just embracing one another. I hear another voice from behind, “See Charlie, I told He was great.” I turn to see Rich smiling. Father opens his arms and Rich, in turn, runs into them as I did. I look up one last time to see Father looking down at us smiling. How could I have desired anything else?