Testimony of the Man

One thing he remembered vividly was being in the Jordan River’s cool, refreshing water, being baptized by his cousin John. After that, he only remembered being pushed forcefully, like an unseen force was driving him. He did not know how long or how far he had been driven to get to this place. When the force released him all he could see, for what seemed like miles, was the desert’s unhappiness.  There was nothing there that could provide him with adequate shade, water, nor comfort.
Naturally, he would need water to drink, or a splash on his face, but he didn’t have any.  Thinking about it only provided him with insufficient subliminal comforts.  He sat down for a moment. His shirt provided little relief from the blistering rays. He savored the strength he was gaining until when the sun had set in the evening, and when it was cool enough, he would continue working to get his staff. Jesus closed his eyes as he sat with his back up against the broken bark of the ancient tree and rested. As his fatigued body began to settle into its uncomfortable place, he began to drift off, yet he remained conscious of his surroundings. He was entering into a deep relaxed state, beseeching God to refresh him.
 In his dreamy state of being, something prompted him to open his eyes. He did so lazily. As his eyes registered, he saw a figure of someone standing not far before him, with his hands in his pockets. Jesus tried to focus, but he did not move much. He just looked at the male effigy, standing before him.  He continued focusing for a few minutes and then the man spoke, but did not appear to move his lips.
“Jesus,” he said ever so softly, his spoken name was barely audible.
He continued to look at the figure, curious of his intentions as he approached him. Maybe this was the companionship Jesus wanted so badly, or maybe he was simply seeing a mirage. Yes, Jesus thought conclusively, that this was just a figment of his imagination. But all his doubts and questions were removed when his name was spoken again.
“Jesus,” the man spoke even more softly.
“Who are you?” Jesus asked, his voice cracking from the lack of water.
The man did not answer back. He just stood there, and smiled. The hours that had passed manufactured delusions in his mind. At first glance, it appeared to be a smile full of warmth, but it wasn’t. Jesus blinked, and as he shut his eyes for a moment, he hoped that it was just a dream. He opened his eyes again, and the man was even closer to him than before. Much closer, he seemed, and it almost startled Jesus. It caused him to come out of his relaxed state, bringing his mind back to full awareness. Now completely conscious, he endeavored to sit up straight. He tapped into his reserved strength, mustering the effort to sit with his back parallel to the tree. It took some extra effort on his part, but he succeeded.  When he finally settled into his seated position, he looked back in the direction of the man, but he had vanished.  Jesus began to perspire the more as he quickly stood up. Dust scattered as he hastily looked all around the tree, but he found no one. He was certain that he had seen someone. He was breathing heavily now, heart racing, as he questioned his sanity, and he remained unsure.
Jesus continued to walk around, searching the sand for evidence that someone had been there. He didn’t have his head down long enough for this strange man to simply walk away unnoticed. If anyone had been there, they could not have just disappeared out of sight that fast. It was impossible. It didn’t make any sense. He wanted to make sense out of it, but there was no rationale in doing so.
In the midst of him going in circles around the tree, his foot caught something and he almost fell forward, flat on his face. Barely catching his balance against the tree he looked down, and saw the long, gnarled branch he was struggling with before all of this took place. It was right there, waiting for him to pick it up. He stood there for a long moment, not believing what he was seeing. His makeshift staff was already prepared for use, with the small secondary branches and stubs removed.
The sun’s heat was probably playing tricks on him, cruelly massaging his weariness. The more he thought about it the more his head throbbed, and for the sake of sanity he again concluded that this was an illusion of his imagination, conjured by his desire to have someone out there with him, to lead him out of this hotbox.