As he lay there wallowing in water, He looked up into the eyes of the only man he could ever say he loved. Loved with all his heart. Wives were nice, but this was different. Wives you fell in love with but Jesus you had to choose to love.
Not that it was hard to do once you met him. He grew on you once you got to know him. This was his best friend. They shared a common experience of life together. In some ways they had seen what the other had been through as well. This was more than a friend, this was personal, and this was real.
Comrades in arms could be trusted friends. Often police officers or firefighters forged bonds that went deeper than emotions could say. This feeling for Jesus Eben had was a lot like that, just more. He was more than a comrade in arms; more than a friend; heck he was even more than a carpenter. He was the Man Eben loved. Loved with all his heart.
Only beyond anything he had ever felt or experienced before this was ManLove. Not some strange perversion of the Old World, this was so much more than sex. This was intimacy. It was real. Forged through experience it had stood the test of doubt, passed the feelings of circumstance, survived the examinations of time. It was rock solid. It would be declared in eternity.
The Man Eben, loved this Man, Jesus.
A ManLove Divine.
It had started in faith. It became fulfilled in love. It was satiated in friendship. Eben never knew how it could be so, but he loved this man who just happened to also be the Son of God. Loved him with a love more real than any emotion he had heard tell of in the Old World.
The light was just beginning to rise behind the thick cloud cover. Rise with just enough illumination to see Jesus face to face. Looking up from flat on his back it was amusing to Eben. Looking up to see Jesus. He could tell Jesus thought it funny too, looking down at his friend.
His smile was about all he could see of Jesus. Eben roared with humor and lay on his back soaking wet. Wet as only a robed bearded old man could get; who was still childlike enough to laugh. Laughing as deep and as free as a child can be. This was Eben. This was the Man.
It was an odd moment. A strange way for the Son of the Most High to act with one of his followers.
Here they were, an odd couple, the two of them, looking and appearing as two normal people would act in everyday life. Never mind they both were presumed to be “more official” than this in the positions they held. Pretensions had been left far behind between these two. There was nothing left to hide; nothing not known or seen between these men.
The Son of God came to rule and reign a thousand years on earth.
Eben had come back with him. The king asked his servants to come rule with him. Of course there was more than one way to rule as everyone soon found out in the Kingdom of Heaven. The King of all Kings set an example none other could fully duplicate. He served.
Service was His Rule.
For now though, this morning, these two people were simply alone together in the wee hours of the morning in the midst of the Millennium Age of the Kingdom that had come. The Kingdom of the Son.
Eben still laughing was extended an arm as Messiah chided him,
“It’s not that hard. You CAN do it”
Eben grinned, wet from ear to ear.
“Yes, I can. When is an entirely other matter…,”
Eben stood up with the help of his friend.
How many times had Jesus helped him up?
Eben thought for a moment.
How many times in the past should I have taken his hand when he held it out to me,
Would have been a better question Eben thought.
He was like that, Jesus, showing up just when Eben needed him. In the little things of life; even in the big ones; especially in the details; which made Jesus friendship so much more intense to Eben. God was there when he needed someone to care. Life didn’t mimic art, it became an art.
The ArtCraft of Living.
“I needed a cold splash in the morning to wake me up before class.
I really wasn’t expecting to get dunked”
Eben and Jesus walked to shore together. They sat silent on the side of the lake. Still waters moved almost imperceptibly with an ever so soft breeze moving on the face of the waters. Both men were communing or praying to “Our Father”. Neither was audible, but the silences spoke louder than words.
Each man sat alone, yet together. One in their personal thoughts and prayers.
The scene was idyllic in peacefulness. Sublime in the quietness. Neither had said a word, neither needed to, both were glad the other was there. The Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters and it was a very… very… peaceful moment.
And it was good.
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