Chapter 1 - Divine Intervention

  For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope.

  Jeremiah 29:11

  Seth shifted at his desk, a small gray workspace with an ancient PC that wasn't really intended to run anything fancier than Excel. Seth was a thin, not-too-tall fellow with neat black hair and a bit of a slouch (or perhaps a lot of a slouch). A crucifix hung on the modular wall and a group photo of the church barbecue was framed in some free space on his desk. It wasn't much, but it wasn't really supposed to be. Seth checked the time on his watch. Four thirty-six. Why did he even still have a watch? He got it as an heirloom from his dad, but to be honest it didn't actually mean anything to him. It was just this itchy, archaic piece of- No, that’s harsh. Seth knew his dad meant well, and he supposed that's why he wore it.

  Good intentions meant everything to Seth Miller. Obviously good intentions didn't excuse bad behavior, but if someone genuinely had the best of intentions… Well, they were doing their best, then. Weren't they? And if you're doing your best… that's the closest you can get to doing the right thing.

  That's what really mattered to Seth. Doing the right thing. It was the needle in the compass of his life. Always do the right thing. That's a pretty nebulous answer to life when you try to think about it, though, so how do you know what the right thing is? It's easy when the options are “Kill the child” or “Play with the child.” But it gets a little stickier moralistically with more complex topics like “Is it okay to kill someone who wants you dead?”

  Seth had a solution, though. A guiding set of principles to attach to his moral compass. Suppose that part would be the magnet or the part with “NEWS” written on it. It doesn't matter. Sometimes metaphors fall apart. The point is that the magnet was Jesus.

  It's a bit reductive to say that Seth loved Jesus, because it was more complicated than just love. He was Catholic, and lived his whole life by the guiding precepts of the Catholic church. He prayed to God before meals, before bed, and sometimes just for no reason. He went to Mass twice a week, and was more than typically active in his parish community. He was no fairweather Christian, and he was proud of his devotion to the Lord. It gave him purpose! It gave him life.

  …Mostly.

  There was a thinning stack of reports in his inbox that Seth was dutifully working his way through. Work was a paycheck for Seth, and not much else. He was well-regarded, well-respected, but he didn't really know anyone or “make any waves”, which, again, he was okay with. Work wasn't “the point” of life.

  Church, work, home, repeat, and mix in some prayer all throughout. That's Seth's life. It was stable. It was fruitful. He made more than enough money to live on, and he had plenty of time for worship. So why did he feel so… empty?

  “No,” he banished the thought, “I’m happy. I have everything that God wants me to have! I have a community that loves me, a job that needs me, and stability, which not many people have! I'm lucky.”

  And that affirmation worked for a while… until it didn't. The thing is that you can't really banish your thoughts like Seth thought that you could. They're still there. They're just… hiding. A ticking time bomb of unhappiness and repression was gestating inside Seth’s cerebellum, and every day it seeped its greasy little fingers deeper into his thoughts. It burned a hole in his soul.

  A feeling of emptiness began to haunt him, and it came from that soul hole. Where was he going? What was he doing? Was there even a point to all this? He could only ignore these thoughts for so long. He needed an answer. A real answer. And God… God wasn't sending one.

  That workday finished out typically long and boring, which compounded his feelings of longing and loneliness. He had spent the day typing away at things that didn't matter, and when he was free he gathered his things, got in his car, and started driving. Then at some point in that drive he found himself composing something, a kind of “open letter to God.” He composed it in his head the whole way home, everything he was planning to say that night. God can see your thoughts, so it doesn't really matter, but he still wanted to wait till he was properly praying to actually have the conversation.

  “In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit,” Seth announced later that night, as he traced the Sign of the Cross. He paused for a moment, ruminating on his opening words, “Dear God… What are You doing with me?”

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  He hesitated. Far be it from him to question the Will of the Lord. He had no right to know his destiny. Even still, there was no harm in asking, right? It's not like He was going to answer.

  “I work all day at a job I don't care about, and I come back home to an empty apartment,” that… came out much more aggressive than he thought it would. Better… tone it down.

  “Sorry, God. It's just… I'm more active in your church than anybody. You know that! So why is it that I still feel so… empty? I’m not asking to be the king of the world or to win the lottery or…” It seemed his elegant rhetorical composition was falling apart in practice, but getting all this out felt unexpectedly cathartic.

  “What do I have to do to feel like my life is worth living?” He paused when those words came out of his mouth. Was not appreciating your life a sin? He really wasn't thinking about what he was saying and… Did Seth really feel that way? He didn't realize it had gotten so bad.

  “I just… I know. I know you don't operate like this. I know it's arrogant of me to ask, but can you just… show me a path that will make me happy?” It was ultimately just a shot in the dark. Divine Intervention isn't something that really happens to people like him. He was pretty sure that would constitute a miracle, and he was not miracle material. Even still… he held open the door.

  Miracles do happen, though, and when they happen, they don't discriminate against people like Seth. Whether it was a reward for his devotion or just a guiding light from a Father who cares, Seth was given a miracle that evening. A feeling welled up in his chest, a feeling of contentedness and knowing and love. He began to feel a glow in his core, and a “presence” all around him. Nothing had changed, but everything was different!

  “G-God?!” He stuttered out. Honestly what do you say when you're confronted face-to-face with Divinity?

  Divinity… Divinity?! In his apartment?! He hadn't- If he had known GOD was coming over, he would have made the place look a little nicer! Socks were strewn on the floor and a half eaten tv dinner sat on his desk.

  “Sorry, Lord!” He scrambled to pick up the refuse, “I didn't - I didn't think You'd actually-”

  The presence spoke, and when it did, it was like nothing he'd ever heard before. Calm and caring, but authoritative and powerful. It was masculine and deep, as the Father would predictably be, and it came from every direction. It was louder than anything, but at the same time… didn't sound like it was even happening. It had a simple message.

  “Become a woman.”

  The voice faded. The presence faded. The glow faded. Reality began to creep back in from the darkness. Seth had never witnessed something so profound! So powerful! So - wait.

  What?

  Did he hear that message… correctly? It sounded a lot like something that God would never - Become… a woman? What?!

  “Uh… God?” Seth reached out into the heavens. Maybe God could clarify. Maybe he misheard Him. Maybe there was… There had to be some kind of misunderstanding! “Are You… Did I hear You correctly, God?”

  No answer. No, of course not. You can't just ask for a do-over of a miracle because you weren't ready when it happened. Even still, it wouldn't kill Him to just… clarify? What He meant? Or if Seth heard Him correctly? The stakes were pretty high here.

  “God?” Seth asked randomly into the void. “Can You just… ‘Become a woman.’ Is that what You said?”

  No answer. Crap. Alright. Not ideal. Well… He couldn't possibly have said that, so what else could He have said? Or meant? Begone a woman? Maybe He was telling Seth to banish a woman from… somewhere? Ugh… No. That’s… wrong. He knew it. Well what about… Become a… bowman? Like, an archer? Does that make sense? Does anybody call archers bowmen? Maybe he's supposed to start the trend!

  No. That wasn't it. He knew that wasn't it. It was… But it couldn't be… But it had to be.

  Seth sat down and reasoned out two dozen ways he could have misheard God’s message. Over and over again, he revisited the memory, hoping he missed some detail or that his recollection would change. But every alternative he found felt wrong, and every time he replayed the memory, it was more clear than anything he'd ever remembered.

  Become a woman.

  That was the message. Definitively. He knew it in his heart that that was the message, and moreso, he knew what it meant. He knew what it meant. It meant exactly what he was worried it meant.