Page 112 of Falling in Love with A Tiny Bat

He sighs again and sweeps his braid over his shoulder, fiddling with the long tail and scowling at the strands. “Even though I don’t have parents, I do hold snatches of Alana’smother and father in my memory. They fueled much of what concocted the recipe of what I am. Even so, I can tell that their actions never stemmed from anything remotely cruel. I struggle to comprehend how it’s possible that something so terrible could have even happened between members in a family. It’s hard to picture regardless, but especially in a unit meant to be built around a concept of love and care, I don’t get it.”

Because…there’s nothing really toget.

Forcing a tight breath through my lungs, I lift a shoulder and keep my attention squarely ahead, begging God to keep the fragmented memories out of my head. Simply, I say, “Drugs.”

Alexios looks at me. “What?”

“In my father’s case, something so terrible happened because he was agood Christian manwith monumental issues. Mom despised him for his addictions, often punished him by saying she couldn’tbe around the devil in him. Without any support, he became angry, and guilty, and angrier for his guilt, and guiltier because of his anger. He collapsed deeper and deeper into his problems. And, once when I was nine and home alone with him, he saw the opportunity to try something really bad.” I run my fingers against the shaved half of my head, grounding myself in the sensation. “I have never thought of my father as a misunderstood victim whose suffering hid goodness. Despite my mother’s habit of sucking hope out of things, he made choices that can’t be excused. Still, under the influence of whatever he took that night…he really became a monster. I don’t like the blame game. I believe forcing the blame of our actions on an enemy is just repeating a sin of neglecting accountability. But…I don’t know… Sometimes…” My voice chokes as I fight back tears. “ …I think about what my mother called his addictions—the devil in him—and I…I wonder…if maybe…in that moment, it had to be literal. I don’t like thinking that what happened could have been done with human hands. I don’t like thinking thatsomething so horrible is possible, all around me, without first petitioning wicked help.” Shaking my head, I pray a prayer I’ve repeated so many times before when I’ve been too unstable to find anything meaningful to say.

It’s little more thanhelp. Again. And again. Until the word drowns out whatever spiral I’m entertaining.

In some ways, it’s worse to think my father was possessed that night. In some ways, it’s easier. Because that night is over, and my life isn’t. It’s easier to believe most humans are good and incapable of something so bleak. It’s easier to narrow the focus of the danger to a concept more out of reach.

Even though believing he was literally possessed doesn’t make me feel any cleaner.

There is no belief that makes any of it better.

So, some days, he was human. And, some days, he wasn’t.

I think, maybe, the fear my mother would solidify one belief over the other when I needed to pick each day what would better help me survive attributed largely to my silence.

“It only happened once,” I whisper, letting my strength return as I dwell on every screaminghelpin my skull. “Because my father was agood Christian man…after he came out of the haze, he knew it was too far to be forgiven if he ever did it again. Half drunk the next day, I overheard him confessing to my mother that he’d taken something he shouldn’t have and he didn’t remember what happened after, but it was enough to scare him, and he needed help. With…everything…still burning in my brain, I listened to my parents pray.”

Alexios and I have stopped walking now.

We’re standing solemnly in the middle of the woods while chills course over my skin and Alexios vibrates with something akin to restrained fury.

“Isn’t that…sad? When the only thing keeping you from committing atrocities is believing you’ll be unforgivable, younever get to know peace. It’s hard, coming to terms with what I’ve learned and seen versus what I actually read.” It’s so convoluted, and terrible. When the family unit is meant to represent God’s perfect example of unselfish love…yet mine was filled with horror… It is hard to get past that. Faintly smiling, I find Alexios’s eyes. “We’re taught tobe like Christ, and we’re taught that wecan do nothing without God. But then, when we mess up because we haven’t relinquished control to God, we make things so much worse by continuing to act apart from the character of Christ. Christ embodies love. Love includes grace. Wallowing in guilt and shame makes it harder to gain a relationship with God. And, without that, well…it’s a spiral again, isn’t it? Guilt and shame put the focus inward, make success or failure our power, not God’s. We can do nothing without Him. We can’t reach Him when we separate ourselves by keeping our focus internal. There’s a verse…or a group of verses, rather. Romans 8:31 – 39. Paraphrased, it says that nothing in all creation can separate us from the love of God. It doesn’t mean sin doesn’t separate us from His presence, and it doesn’t mean that we can’t convince ourselves—completely—that we are unworthy of the promises He’s made to us. It just means that He loves us. No matter what.”

Harsh, Alexios says, “Does your God not promise to protect you?”

My heart twists, because it’s a question I’ve asked countless times. I’ve searched for answers in my darkest moments, when giving up religion and Christianity seemed easier and I wanted the proof God was a liar. I never found that proof, though. “He promises not to forsake us. He promises refuge. He promises peace. He does not promise ease. We live in a corrupt world. It’s not what He wants, but because we have the freedom to love, we also have the freedom to reject love. At least for me, the way we wound up in a fallen world is not a story about disobedience.It’s a story about divergence. Love isn’tobey or disobeybecause love doesn’t want control. Love directs us toward goodness. Love involves trust. Failing to trust God is how we ended up falling from grace. We separated ourselves from it first. The first parents rejected the concept of love at its foundation. So…now we play out the consequences.”

“Why?” Alexios’s voice vibrates, shaking. “Why do the consequences fall onyourshoulders?”

“Because I am a part of sin running its course, in order to provide a lasting proof that God’s law of love is the only one that creates peace among all beings. Obedience to a law of love could not be rooted in fear of retribution without jeopardizing its foundation.”

“And an all-powerful God didn’t have any other options? Notone?”

I laugh; the sound escapes somewhat broken. “I don’t know. All I know is that it’s easier to believe in a God made of love who cries for me when I’m hurting and who suffered death for me so I could be safe someday than it is to believe in any of the other options I’ve found. And, believe me, I havesearched. I have searched long and hard to choose to learn from the past and trust God as well as I can. Even when nothing makes sense. I do my best to build a relationship with Him, and I recognize that all He asks of me is to take a step back when I feel like it’s too hard, because it will never be aboutmedoingmybest.”

Alexios’s fist closes around his braid, and his gaze slashes to mine, sharp, pleading. “Have you forgiven your parents—yourfather—for what happened?”

My chest hurts. “I try to. There are still things I struggle to let go of.” I poke Alexios in the arm. “You know, God and I, we’re still relationship building. I’m working on giving Him myeverythingand all that. Even though, on some level, I know it’ll be easier to let all this pain go. Right? You’re not the onlyone waiting around to nom it up. Heck, maybe you’re even the solution He’s given me, and I’m still rejecting His way, thinking I know better, or I’m smarter, or some kind of nonsense like that.”

“It’s not wrong to hesitate until you’re sure.”

“Many people around me growing up would have called that sentiment a lack of faith, and a sin.”

His head shakes. “I do not believe I like the people you grew up around.”

“Oh yeah. They majorly sucked. Which…maybe isn’t a very goodChristian witnessthing for me to say. But there’s very little worse than professing an incorrect character of God and being very loud in attributing all your grandness to Him…when…you know…all that grandness kinda sucks.” For some reason, I feel a little lighter. Maybe the ability to share the things I’ve never spoken aloud to anyone before has helped heal something inside. “God asks to reason with us. God commends acting from a place of sincerity. So, I’m not going to do Him the disservice of condemning myself while I work toward relying on Him more fully.” Clearing my throat, I look elsewhere, feeling the way my finger is still pressed into Alexios’s bicep. I should stop poking him. I really should. But I don’t. “I don’t know…I like to think maybe God’s a little less like the pictures people painted for me while growing up…and a little more like you.”

“Like…me?”

“He asks for everything. And each time we reject Him, He doesn’t get upset. He just waits and asks again later, hoping one day we’ll trust Him enough to sayyes. Or something.” I sniff, and pull my t-shirt out from under my leather jacket to wipe my eyes, forgetting entirely that I’m wearing bright purple makeup. Muttering a swear, I blink against the sensation of smudged mascara. First, crying over Terra, and now this. I should have gone with waterproof tonight. “I’m just trying to say that you’re veryloving, Xios. Even when you get nothing in return. It letsme see God in you. And maybe that doesn’t mean anything to you, but it means a lot to me, because He’s the only place I’ve ever felt safe before.”

“I…” His hand wraps around mine, drawing my attention back his way. Awe garbs his face, shadows dancing across the chaos in his deep gray eyes. “I don’t know if I deserve such a selfless comparison. I gain a great deal through loving you.”

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