by Michael John Sullivan
For most of my 23 years, my refusal to take part in the sparring wars
that happened daily at the dinner table had made me an outcast in my own
family. I survived many battles by escaping to my attic room, wondering if I
would ever truly find peace. I sought the answers sometimes from music,
sometimes from a deep dream, many times by praying. When my mother – my protector
– lost her battle with cancer and was called home by God, I knew my continued
existence in our Richmond Hill house was fragile.
On a cold November night, my father asked me to leave.
It wasn’t long before my more affordable shelter was a subway token and
an overnight ride on the E-train in New York City. I continued to seek
employment, sometimes landing a job interview, then waiting outside by a pay
phone for hours for a job offer.
While riding the trains at night, I reflected on my motives, my goals,
and most importantly, my faith.
Who was Jesus Christ to me?
I thought about what He meant to me as I would sit huddled at the end
of the subway car, warming my feet. I avoided eye contact with the other
passengers whenever possible, embarrassed by my dirty appearance and fighting
off the nausea that accompanied the realization that this was now my bedroom.
And I asked the question again: Where
are you, Jesus?
On some nights, I pulled a notebook and pen out of my green garbage bag
of belongings and started to write. Was there something more to my relationship
with Jesus than just my reciting of the Lord’s Prayer?
On New Year’s Eve that year, as I walked through the streets I had
biked as a kid, I started to cry. It was frigid and the wind spit into my face.
I didn’t want to spend another night on the dangerous subway. I walked to a
familiar church in the neighborhood, waited until the last service of the
evening ended, and hid in the back under a pew. I waited anxiously for everyone
to leave, hoping no one would notice. I felt a sense of relief as the doors
were locked.
I was alone. The wind creaked eerily in the old church. The slightest
sound echoed loudly, causing my heart to skip a few beats. But was I really
alone?
I walked to the front of the church. There was a makeshift manger with
the baby Jesus lying in a wooden cradle. I knelt beside it and wrote and wrote.
I looked at the innocent baby. His life lay ahead with so much promise, hope,
and dreams. I spoke softly, telling the baby how sad I was. I even picked Him
up and kissed His cheek. He was so beautiful, the dim light from above shining
proudly on His face. I sat there for a couple of hours and reflected. I
wondered why my life had become a complete mess without any hope. I wondered if
there would ever be a day where I would lie down again in my own bed, under a
warm and sturdy roof, surrounded by loving people.
Then I realized who Jesus is. He was there for me whenever I needed
Him.
The spiritual conversation I had during this bleak period inspired me
to send my characters back in time. In my latest novel, Everybody’s Daughter, the main character, Michael Stewart travels
back to the time of Christ when He was preaching. I wanted the main character
to witness the Sermon on the Mount. What would Jesus say? How would the main
character react? What would he say to Jesus later when they met? How would
Jesus address a man of the 21st century? Would it be any different than when He
had spoken to people back in first-century Jerusalem? What would it feel like
spiritually to look into Jesus’ eyes and say The Lord’s Prayer with Him?
In Everybody’s Daughter, the
fictional Michael Stewart is given an incredible gift – a chance to say the
Lord’s Prayer with Jesus, an opportunity to speak to Him, a few minutes to
visit his deceased wife and ask for forgiveness, and a chance to truly
understand why Jesus was walking this same earth with us many centuries ago.
I allow Michael Stewart to honestly express his anxieties, fears, and
concerns to Jesus as he struggles with his own faith and the challenges of
raising a teenager daughter in modern day America.
Everybody’s Daughter allowed
me to heal and regain my faith in many ways. While the fictitious Michael
Stewart was taking this trip, I was alongside him for the journey, expressing
my thoughts and fears, speaking to Jesus as I had done on that cold winter
night inside the old church by the makeshift manger.
Michael John Sullivan is
the author of Necessary Heartbreak: A
Novel of Faith and Forgiveness. It was published by Simon & Schuster's
Gallery Books imprint in April 2010. The Library Journal named Necessary Heartbreak as one of the
year's best in Christian fiction for 2010. He recently finished the sequel, Everybody's Daughter, featuring more
memories from his young adult life, including the day he walked to Forest Park
as he contemplated taking his own life. Only the strains of a song prevented
him from doing the unthinkable. Sullivan lives with his family in New York. He
is a nominated board member for the Long Island Coalition of the Homeless.
This article by Michael J. Sullivan, author of Everybody’s Daughter, is used with the
permission of TBB Media. Any reposts of this article should be credited to Michael
J. Sullivan, Everybody’s Daughter 2012.
Everybody's
Daughter
By Michael John Sullivan
May 16, 2012/$15.95
ISBN 13: 978-1936558445
ISBN 10:1936558440
Fiction
