Jesus. Son of God. Savior. Everyone knew him and his story. But who was he really? |
And Jesus answered him, "Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise." Those were the last words he heard, before his vision went black, and he knew no more. He woke up slowly, wearily blinking up into the sun. It was far too bright out. Where was he? He covered his eyes with his right hand, but it didn't seem to do anything. While the edges of his vision went dark, there seem to be a hole in his hand where the light kept shining through. A hole? He quickly sat up, looking at his hands and feet. There they were, two small nail shaped holes in the middle of his palms and two the center of his feet. He peered through one hand. It seemed as though the skin grew around the hole, healing it, preventing it from bleeding. Slowly, he curled and opened his fingers. It was strange. One would think that a hole in the middle of his hand would affect his motion. He remembered once getting a scratch from a knife that pained him to the point that he couldn't flex his fingers. But this, aside from the slight indent felt by his middle finger when he formed a fist, there was no sign of pain. Glancing down, he was startled at the sight of a gray robe on his person. It was a simple robe, but the linen was far smoother than anything he'd ever worn, be it bought or stolen. He had been so caught up with his hand that he didn't notice his clothing, even when the sleeves reached his wrist. Slowly, he stood up, mesmerized in the way the cloth just flowed down to the floor, covering his feet and softly grazing the ground. The fact that he was outside registered on his mind. He grabbed as much of the robe as he could, the cloth bunching up in his grasp. For clothing this fine, other thieves would be on him in seconds, tearing it to pieces to trade for food. As he looked up to check his surroundings, his hands went slack. In front of him was a bountiful garden. Scattered across the landscape were trees with ripe fruits and bushes filled to bursting with succulent berries. Dividing the garden was a small stream, the gentle flow of the water completing the scene. The question resounded again in his mind. Where am I? "Paradise." The gentle voice to his left answered his unasked question. |