A Talk with the Giver

The meadow was a beautiful place here in the center of Ooladada's hills. Giver's hill was the exact location. The Anka's vault could just be seen. I myself was up there storyboarding. I  never really liked talking to my 'friends' when others could hear me... it was odd. But up here, I could talk to them all day long and never feel out of place.

In my mind's eye, I pulled up my current companion. Doofy. Doofy was simply his Nika name... I won't say more because... well I'm not ready to tell you guys here. The Alian's gold eyes and emerald armor shone in the light. "Are you kidding! Kish if I had my way... ya' know... I think I chose to be with you so I had at least chosen something. Some days, I feel like Rapunzel."

My companion laughs. "You are capable..."

A feeling of disappointment and sorrow fill me. I look behind me towards the Anakulen's Vault. Standing beside it I see the Giver. I sigh, dismissing my imaginary friend. I'm not about to continue with this line of thought and walk towards him. "Sir." I begin.

"If only you would talk to me as you would them."

I can feel the pain in his voice. I look at my feet chewing the inside of my lip.

"The keepers, the guards, even the playmates you communicate with freely... and I have to overhear. V...." He walks over, kneeling in the grass in front of me. "Shall we sit? Can we talk? Can I say anything to you?"

"We can I guess... but I don't want to waste your time. There are others."

"Do you think the master of time itself can't find the time to deal with all? You need to talk, so let us sit."

The birds sang around us, the wind whistled through the trees.... and I sat with him in the dew filled grass. "What... what do you want to know?" I stammer unsteadily.

"Listen? Do you hear the birds?" He said to me.

I smiled. "Yes, m'lord. I hear the birds."

"How long will you call me that child? I have made you my own! I do not sit here with you out of duty."

I look away. "It's awkward..."

"It's not normal. Not in your new sense. I did this all the time for Adam and Eve. You talk to your imaginary friends... you WANT to talk to your imaginary friends. Can your small mind not understand this?"

"I'm trying to... My friends are different. I can't offend them. They are just imaginary. They don't exist. I can figure things out before it matters."

"Child... oh my dear child! How long must you suffer? How long must you turn your face from me towards another? Have you made yourself gods of these things? I who've made you, who've raised you out of the multitude, who have chosen to talk to you in this way.... and you turn to an idol?"

"It's not an idol... it's just an imaginary friend."

"Did it come between us?"

I pause gulping. "Not... exactly."

"You know I know everything?"

I bite my lip, my ankulen burning against my forehead. "it's just... it's just... weird... ya' know."

"You've been studying helping those who are trapped in their mind... to communicate, how do you reach them?"

"By joining them in their play..." I say without missing a beat.

"How's that?"

"Don't you know?" I protest.

"I want you to tell me child.... and use my name. The name I told you to call me."

"They are trapped Abba... Daddy... trapped in their minds. But they are trying to reach out. Not always the way we'd accept. But to enter, you must mimic them... join in. If they beat on the table... turn it into a rhythm... or follow the bouncing beat game.... gently of course... don't break anything. Then, slowly they'll open up."

"How is that different than what I'm doing now?"

I snort. "Are you calling me retarded?"

"Are you saying you know the mind of God?" He throws back at me.

I can't help but giggle at this. He gives me a half smile. "I guess to you we are no different than those poor souls with autism. Trapped in their small reality."

"Everyone is trapped in a reality. Just some are smaller than others. Child... oh my darling one. If only you would talk to me as you do your imagination. If only you would cry out to me as you do them. Have I not reached out to you? Have I not spoken to you directly? Child, grow your faith and trust in me. I have set you upon a rock, I have placed my mark upon you. You won't be moved. And you cannot be harmed. If your heart desires it, tell me. Tell me everything. Because I want to grant you everything."

"But you are so much more Lord! Oh, how can I ever treat you as lowly as I these figments of imagination?"

"Do you not treat them as real? I am real, and yet you've set me on a shelf."

"I have not!"

"You've asked me why I've been silent... but when was the last time you talked to me? Open your eyes. And while it is good to have an imagination. I come first. I've written the world into existence. Can I not help you write your own stories? Can I not take what you possess and make it the best you can be. Let me child take your pen, and let this story be mine. Let us together cowrite all things."

"People are going to call me odd...."

"When have people ever been faithful. Don't worry about this generation. It shall be honored here, even if it is despised there. Give me your pen, and let me write through you."

"Lord, I wish to say yes, but I don't know how..."

"Then meditate on my words, and let me teach you. But first, you must learn to talk to me. Then, you can learn to write with me."

"Lord, this is not in me, or of me. Nor of me could it ever be...."

"Let me take the load, and you can do all. You are beautiful. You are kind. You are gentle...."

I feel my cheeks grow hot. "Sir!"

"Are these not the words you make your characters say? Child, you have spiritual eyes that you may see me, a heart that cries for wisdom. You've turned your heart to me that I can speak."

"But my feet run towards the world Lord. There are shiny things I want!"

"Tell me about them, and I will give it to you all that I deem good."

"Lord... sometimes it's awkward.. and I don't always know exactly what it is I want... and...I still don't like asking...."

"Just ask, and I will provide."

"You are good Lord...."

"Child, I am your father, so let me give to you all that which a father would."

"Can you give me more than I can ever need?

"Can you first handle nothing? Can your green pastures be one bite per step?"

"I can try Lord," I reply.

"No, don't try. For your flesh is weak, and you'd never make it. Hold my hand, and let me guide you."

"Like a horse..."

"With the blinders on."

"Still odd."

I hear him laugh beside me. "Don't measure with the flesh that which is of the spirit. When a man comes against you to kill you... let no man question that I have placed my mark on you. You are my child, and I am your Father. I will work great things through you. But first, you must trust. You must Talk. And you must let me write through you."

I blush as I look at my hands. "When I am weak, then I'm strong."

"I've covered you with my feathers, I will shelter you with my wings. This my promise will be your armor. The armor I gave you so long ago. You shall grow, and it shall fit. Go, child, I will be with you."

"Thank you, Abba..." The words, still funny in my mouth slip off my tongue as I rise. He vanishes, not of my will, but the season of sight had ended. I sigh as I walk back down the hill to the portal to reality. Pausing, I look back over my shoulder. "Thank you... I'll try to remember."

"Don't try... Do." his voice is the wind itself whistling over the land.