The Answer To Why (A Short Story)

“Pray for me. Just…pray for me if you want…to help me.” said Grandma Massie. “But the doctors said—“ I began to respond but she cut me off. “I don’t care…what that ‘ol doctor say. He can’t tell my God, my Jesus what…to do.” Her breath was slowly seeping out of her body with every word. I never understood the faith she had in this God of hers. If he was all that then why has she been sick most of her life? Why is she dying as we speak of some disease that the doctors can’t even name? What kind of a god would do this to his most faithful follower?

“Matthias,” she coughs for a while and I reply “Yes ma’am?”

“Baby, I want you to…change your life. God, baby he…he is—“

“Grandma! GRANDMA!—NO!!” I screamed as the incessant beep betrayed my hopes.

What was she trying to tell me? She wants me to change my life…to what degree did she mean that? God is what? I didn't understand! Tears choked through my thoughts. Tears fueled by a wrath I had never felt before. Her faith in this Jesus, her God, gained her nothing. Suddenly, her voice whispered through my mind, “Pray for me. Just…pray for me if you want…to help me.” I shook my head furiously as the hospital staff rushed into the room. The brightness of the room was in direct contrast to the darkness in my heart. The faith she had was so strong, so strong. My tears fell anew, like a summer rain that pounded at the rock that had become my soul.

Grandma Massie’s words just kept replaying back in my mind. The doctor can’t tell my God, my Jesus what to do, but it looks like he did. At least the damn doctor attempted to help her. Where is God, now? Where is he?! “Aaaaaahhhhhhh!!” I screamed. Someone touched my shoulder to calm my frustration. I turned around to see a male nurse that had helped remove me from the room. His eyes bled warmth and sympathy like a hemorrhage. His eyes held a kindness that my sorrow couldn’t deal with and I burst into tears once again. Grandma’s laugh haunted my cries, her wisdom (besides that whole faith thing) stabbed me in the heart like a blunt knife. How could she leave me? How could she not put up a fight? There was another touch on my shoulder—the nurse reminding me that he was there. I couldn’t look at him as I noticed how silent the little waiting room had become. Or was I somewhere else? Some place that they take the mourning families of those patients that put their faith in an invisible, uncaring God?

“It’s gonna be alright, son,” said the nurse, quietly.

His words hit my ears as a hallow noise. “You’re grandma told you to do something before she passed, did she not?” he asked.

For some reason I could not remember what he was talking about. She told me to do something? I continued to stare at the floor.

“Didn’t Ms. Potter tell you to pray for her?” The sincerity in his eyes was sickening. Anger began to rise up out of the pits of my sorrow until he said, “Be angry but sin not.” My anger flared again but there was a strength in his voice that deflected the heat of it. “Why don’t you do what she said do, Matthias?”

Then it hit me—he wasn’t in the room when Grandma told me those things. As a matter of fact, I never gave him my middle name; the name that Grandma always used for me. I think it is some biblical prophet or something. “My name is Robert.” I replied to him still not looking up.

“Excuse me?” The nurse’s voice held genuine surprise at the change of subject.

“My name is Robert, not Matthias. Who gave you that name? Who told you anything? Do you eavesdrop on all your patients?” My anger was rising again but who was he to tell me to 'sin not'? “What kind of hospital is this that you would drop in on the privacy of your patients and their families?”

“Matthias—Robert, we did not eavesdrop on you. Ms. Massie Potter told me your name when she passed.”

Incredulity struck me dumb. Had she spoken again and I missed it? That couldn’t be possible. Is he messing with my mind? He must mean before she passed.

“No Robert when she passed. Not before.” The guy said addressing something I had not uttered aloud.

“Who the hell are you? What are you trying to do—make it worse for me? What is your name anyway? I am gonna report you to whoever you work for. What is your damn name, huh? What is it!!” I screamed as my emotion caused my voice to quiver. “Why do you ask my name? Why do you ask all these questions? Listen for once in your life, Matthias…do what Massie Potter said do.” The nurse said firmly. That was the last straw.

“Who do you think you are? By what authority do you talk to me this way?” My rage reaching a new peak.

“The authority I have no man gave it to me but my Father.”

“Well, tell your father that he can go to h—“ I began.

“ENOUGH!” the man’s voice grew quieter, but at the same time it seemed fuller, stronger. Light began to tease my closed eyes—I opened them…and stopped my heart. There before me was a spectacle like I’d never seen. The nurse had shed off his impure white clothes and was glowing as if gold could be light. His facial features were lost in the glory of his face. His relatively short hair was accented by the wind of his power. He had grown in height about a foot, standing about seven feet. I began to tremble, to quake with fear, a fear like none I had ever imagined. I was losing my mind.

“You are not becoming insane, Matthias. Massie told me your name as her soul passed from this life to the next. You questioned in your heart the very power of God for “allowing” her to pass. Massie, better known as Mother Massie by most, is who God—Jesus, is using to show you who He is. There is work that you must do. But you must learn obedience and your faith must become knowledge.” His voice was booming yet tranquil…how could that be?

My knees buckled and I fell to them and began to cry unto this God. I began to remember all the things that Grandma used to say to me: “Pray about it and it’ll be alright, son.” “Give it to Jesus.” “Come to church with me so the Comforter can ease your anger and pain.” “You must be born again Matthias. You must believe.”

The transfigured nurse continued. “My name is of no consequence to you. I am a messenger of Why. Do not worship me, nor fear me. Do not fear Why, either,” said the transcendent nurse.

“M-m-messenger of...Why? Huh?” The grief from just losing grandma must have turned my brain into mush.

“Your brain is fine. Yes, I am a messenger of Why. Why is God. At least, this is how the Creator has chosen to reveal himself to you since you are so consumed by that question.” I just stared at him as he continued to speak. “Accept the name of the Lord and succumb to his ways and your pain will not be in vain. You will know Why even if you never understand Him.”

“But—but…” I try to say as he stops me with something like the wave of his hand yet he didn’t move.

“No buts. You must believe for you shall be the first of many to impact this current world. Go. Serve the Lord for He is the answer to your questions.” The angel said and then was gone. Yet his voice spoke once again saying, “Follow the words of your grandmother and you will see why she had such faith. Do as she commanded you to do before she was granted rest from her service.”

My tears had dried in the warmth of the light that emanated from the messenger of God, this messenger of Why. Grandma told me to pray for her if I wanted to help her. I should have listened, now it’s too late. I decided to try anyway saying, “God—Why, can You help grandma if it’s not too late. I believe now. I do—please help Grandma.”

“Robert Potter?” a doctor asked out of nowhere.

“Yes,” I replied.

“Your grandmother, Massie Potter, has passed away. I am so sorry.”

I bowed my head but I remembered the words of the angel and said, “No, she has not.”

He looked at me with a question. I repeated my words.

“Uh, Robert, I know these things can be diff—" he began, placing a hand on my shoulder not unlike the nurse. “Dr. Jamison! Dr. Jamison! Come quick!” said a female nurse, a nurse that was in the room that grandma had been in. The doctor gave me a look and disappeared into the room.

Two days later….

“Grandma…?”

“Yes, baby?” she replied as she still lie in the hospital, alive once again by some glorious miracle.

“I have decided to know Why—l mean God. I can’t promise that I’ll go with Aunt Rachel to church every time she goes, but you’ve always told me God is more than brick and mortar.” I said sitting beside the hospital bed. She just looked at me and smiled—a smile as radiant as a tiny sun. “I am so happy for you, baby. That is what I have been waiting to hear. I asked the Lord not to take me until I saw light in your eyes again.” I smiled right back at her. “Baby, I am just so tired now. I feel no pain, but I am…weary. I’m gonna take a nap now but always remember that I love you. And more importantly, Matthias, remember that Christ loves you too. Love is Why, baby. Love is Why.”

“I know that now, Grandma, I really do.”