There was a man kneeling on a cliff, legs folded under him, sitting on his calves and feet. His lips quivered and his torso and head went up and down as he wept. Hands raised to the sun which was setting in the distance. “Why?” His voice was weak, hoarse. “Why did you do this to me?”
There was no response, aside from the ocean crashing up against the cliff face a few feet before him, over and over again, the salt water spraying up. He glistened from sweat being under the sun and from the splashing. The crashes were deafening. “Was I not a good enough servant? Were my weaknesses too many? Purify them. Rip them from me. Make me whole. Please, do what you must, but give me peace.”
Go forth. That was all he heard in his head, perhaps a sign of madness. But it said what it said. He touched his head to the ground, hands still raised, “Thank you, Lord.” He ran off the cliff and jumped into the ocean below, plunging under the water, away from the rocks.
When he broke the surface, the sun blurred in the distance, warming him. The waves calmed. His vision cleared and he swam, going forth with purpose.