Chapter 6: The Meaning of Life

It had been nine months since Lizzie’s death. Walker was working in his aisle at the Lumber Depot, rearranging extension cords. His old depression had set in. He stared at the coil of orange extension cord in his hand. Everything seemed so meaningless. 

It wasn’t that his life was all that bad. Lizzie’s death was still a wound but there were days when it was becoming tolerable. Angela was right. Every now and then he even smiled. Amy and Angela’s gift had taken care of the medical bills. Connie had gone back to teaching third grade and between their two incomes they were making fast progress on their debt. There was light at the end of the tunnel. They were even saving for a trip to Paris. Life was good. Why was he so gloomy? 

Walker looked at his watch and was relieved to see that his shift was over. He went to the employee’s break room to get his coat. It was strangely quiet. He was hungry so bought a Snicker’s bar from the vending machine and sat on a plastic folding table to eat it, letting his feet swing back and forth. He loved Snickers. They were just the right mix of salty peanuts, sweet caramel and chocolate. He let the caramel dissolve in his mouth until the perfect moment to crunch the peanuts. He was feeling better. He put the last piece in his mouth. The sense of well being dissolved with the last bit of caramel. A wave of gloom came back over him.

“That’s the problem,” he thought. “It always ends. Everything always ends.” The image of Lizzie’s smile filled his mind and he felt a sharp pain as though it was the day she died. 

“I thought this was supposed to get easier,” he thought. 

As the pain ebbed away he began to think of his future. He was excited to go to Paris. It was a bright spot in his world with Connie, something to look forward to. But after Paris, then what? Paris was a Snickers bar, to be followed by another long dull stretch at the Lumber Depot. It all seemed to pointless. His feet slowed to a stop and he sat motionless. 

“Here again?” said the Voice.

“Where?” he replied.

“Brokenness. The vanity of life. The doorway to my Kingdom.”

“Some door,” said Walker.

“I am the door,” said the Voice. “What you feel is not the door but the emptiness of life outside the door. Darkness has driven you home again.” 

“Home to what?” asked Walker.

“Home to life,” said the Voice. “Real life.”

“Real life,” said Walker bitterly. I have heard those empty words my whole life. It’s an empty slogan. We sing about it and talk about but I can tell no one really experiences it. I know I don’t.”

“Never?” asked the Voice.

Well, every now and then I get a spark of life but never anything I would call real life. My life is a long, dull grind with tiny little glimpses of something better. Real life? I don’t even know what you mean.”

Do you remember the night Lizzie was in the hospital,” said the Voice, “when I asked you to trust me?”

“Of course.”

“Well, do you?”

“I did. That was one of those glimpses. It all seemed clear in that moment. Then Lizzie died. Now things are back to normal. Back to the same old meaningless life, except that I feel a big hole where Lizzie used to be.”

“Your life feels meaningless because you fallen for the lie of a meaningless world. You have fallen for the lie of materialism. You are a consumer, consumed by consuming. Don’t you see? If the world is meaningless, your life can have no meaning. But life is not meaningless. Everything that has happened has been to draw you out of the lie and into the truth.”

“What is the truth?”

“I am the truth. And I have come to give you life.”

“But how?”