Mark 9: 1-8 

Jesus stepped into a boat, crossed over and came to his own town. Some men brought to him a paralyzed man, lying on a mat. When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the man, “Take heart, son; your sins are forgiven.”

At this, some of the teachers of the law said to themselves, “This fellow is blaspheming!” Knowing their thoughts, Jesus said, “Why do you entertain evil thoughts in your hearts? Which is easier: to say, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Get up and walk’?  But I want you to know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins.” So he said to the paralyzed man, “Get up, take your mat and go home.”  Then the man got up and went home.  When the crowd saw this, they were filled with awe; and they praised God, who had given such authority to man. 

I stretch my arms wide, waking up to the morning light, and smile. "Good morning, beautiful people! This is the day the Lord has made; I will rejoice and be glad in it."

I reach over to my bedside table and grab my glasses, putting them on. Then I reach for my tablet. "First things first. Need that soundtrack."

Scrolling through my music app, I tap the screen. "Okay, what are we feeling this morning? Smooth jazz. Definitely smooth jazz. Something instrumental."

I select the track. "Yes. 'Holy Spirit,' instrumental version. Perfect."

The soothing, mellow jazz notes fill the room, and I hop out of bed, feeling the rhythm. "Mmm, so good."

I grab my little watering can and make my way over to the patio door, humming along to the music. "Alright, babies, time for your breakfast. Did you miss me? I missed you. How are my tomato babies doing? Look at these new leaves! You all look so thirsty."

Carefully watering each pot, I sway to the beat. "Music and water. The best way to start the day."

Next, I head over to my drawer and pull out my favorite pair of overalls. "Yep. Overalls. Every single day right now. I am completely obsessed. They’re comfy, they have big pockets, and they are cute. What more could a girl want?"

After putting them on, I roll over to my vanity mirror, check my reflection, and flash a smile. "Glasses are good, outfit is good, smile is ready. I wheel my way over towards my dad, so her can start to do my hair.

"Your hair is so soft," my Nnaa (Dad) says to me, and instantly I start laughing.

"You say that every day."

"I mean it, every day. You know, you have two different textures mixed in right here—your mom's texture and my texture combined."

"No way," I say, and he just laughs.

"Yeah, it's true. You've got both 4A and 4C right in your hair."

"Wait, really?" I ask, widening my eyes. "And... this is a good thing, right?"

"Of course," he reassures me with a smile. "It's completely normal for Afro-textured hair."

He continues smoothing back my edges and gently combing out the ends, keeping up the routine he has followed ever since I can remember, making it look as easy as can be.

After a few minutes, he steps back and announces, "Okay, we're good."

He walks over to the kitchen, and I smile wide, grinning at him and practically beaming from ear to ear. "Are you still meal prepping?"

He immediately starts laughing. "I know you always tell me that I treat cooking like an art and I tend to get lost in the sauce, but I promise that I'm done!"

I raise an eyebrow and ask, "How long did this one take?"

"Long enough for you to love the food."

I look at him, grinning. My Nnaa treats any culinary creation like true art. You should see the cake he made for my birthday! He is a youth pastor at our church, New People and every single year for the church's annual reception, he bakes another masterpiece.

As he continues, I hand him the containers: papaya, okpa, Ji Nni, and water.

"Your hair is so soft," my Nnaa says to me, and instantly I start laughing.

"You say that every day."

"I mean it, every day," he says.

I repeat it right back to him, "Every day."

He smooths back my edges and gently combs out the ends of my hair, continuing the routine he has followed ever since I can remember, making it look as easy as can be.

After a few minutes, he steps back and announces, "Okay, we're good."

He walks over to the kitchen, and I smile wide, grinning at him and practically beaming from ear to ear as I ask, "Are you still meal prepping?"

He immediately starts laughing. "I know you always tell me that I treat cooking like an art and I tend to get lost in the sauce, but I promise that I'm done!"

I raise an eyebrow and ask, "How long did this one take?"

He replies, "Long enough for you to love the food."

I look at him, grinning. He treats any culinary creation like true art. You should see the cake he made for my birthday! My Nnaa is pretty cool. He also serves as a youth pastor at our church, and every single year for the church's annual reception, he bakes another masterpiece.

As he continues to close up the meal packets, I hand him the containers: papaya, okpa, Ji Nni, and water. "Can you pass the food to me so I can put it in my bag?" I ask him.

He nods, walking over. "All right, hold my hand."

We sign it together, bending our middle fingers and touching the palm of my left hand, then repeating the motion with my left hand touching my right hand. I make an X over my chest and point forward—signing Jesus loves you. 

Then we begin to pray. 

"God, pray for my beloved daughter, that she knows that she's beautiful and that she's made in Your image." 

He keeps on speaking as I look at him, his hand pressed gently against my forehead. He nods his head after taking a deep, deep, exhaling breath.

I start making my way toward the door.

He calls out, "You got homework today, you know it?"

I call back to him, "I know it. I have like three tests, four assignments, and a whole presentation due, right, right, right?"

He laughs and adds, "That I'm gonna find a cure for cancer."

I fire back, "Of course, of course, right after I wake up at three in the morning and go for a six-hour-long workout."

We lock eyes and immediately start laughing as I place my hand on the door to open it and leave.

"Bye, Nnaa," I say.

His eyes widen. "Wait, we almost forgot—almost forgot."

He looks at me. "I will walk again." I repeat it back to him. "I will walk again." He smiles. "I will walk again."

He tells me, "All right, love you."

He says, "Bye."

I sign it back to him, bending down my two fingers and waving. I roll out the door and down the ramp, doing the exact same thing we have done every single day since I was six. Because one day, I will walk again.

I make my way down the ramp, exiting my home and heading down the driveway toward the street. The sky looks breathtaking with the clouds drifting above, a reminder of my love for nature. I wait quietly at the bus stop for the school bus to arrive.

A sudden noise startles me. I jump and turn to my left to find a group of kids from school.

"Did you not hear us talking to you?" one of them asks, crossing his arms. "Or were you just trying to ignore us? Maybe she just doesn't want to be our friend."

I turn to face them, shaking my head. "No, I wasn't ignoring you. I'm deaf."

Another student scoffs. "Well, if you're deaf, how are you talking?"

"I read lips," I explain. "I am deaf in one ear and know ASL, but I rely on lip-reading when I'm not facing you. What did you want to say?"

The tension diffuses into surprise.

"Oh, that's pretty cool," the first boy says, pointing upward. "We were just talking about how that cloud kind of looks like a seraphim. Do you see it?"

I narrow my eyes and look up, tilting my head. Suddenly, I see it—the six wings.

"That actually is pretty cool."

Before anyone else can speak, the school bus pulls up to the curb, and we board. As we ride I look out the window before I know it, I see the birch trees in the courtyard of my school and I feel the bus turn, I know where we are, this is the round-a-bout. I look around and I'm correct. The bus comes to a stop, and the driver operates the wheelchair lift to lower me smoothly to the ground. As it lowers, I hear the familiar loud beeping noise. Growing up, I used to dread this part because people would stare with those heavy, sad expressions I didn't like them looking at me, because of the idea of pity. But now, I just choose to ignore it sometimes I close my eyes and imagine I am somewhere else, enjoying the motion like a fun amusement park ride instead of paying attention to the looks. The bus driver is always really nice, and I head into school smiling.

Today's classes are flying by. Before I know it, it's almost time for lunch. I'm on my way to my locker when I hear a thud. Something hits me, and I look up.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” she asks me.

I nod my head while looking at her.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

She nods.

I look at her. She looks at me as if she’s known me my whole life.

I wave to her. “Hi. My name is Elisi, but some people call me Alice.”

“I’ve heard so much about you. I—I know who you are.”

I look at her, puzzled yet intrigued. How does she know who I am? Who told her? What did they say? How did they say it?

There are so many questions I want to ask, but I don’t know why I’m so baffled. I don’t know how to say any of it.

So I just look at her.

My mind is going a million miles a minute, and I can’t get my thoughts together enough to form a sentence.

“But I’ve heard so much about you,” she says. “I’ve actually written so much about you. You’ve got this, you know that, right?”

I nod, looking at her.

It’s weird. Her eyes are, like, blue and reflective, as if she spends a lot of time at the beach. Or maybe I’m just picking up on the fact that I don’t—

She smiles.

Her phone rings.

I look at her as she picks it up and puts it to her ear.

“Hey, Josiah. What’s going on?”

“Hey, Imani. Uh… come on. We’re gonna be late, and I’d hate for that to happen.”

“What? You’re concerned about time management now? I must really be a good influence on you.”

“Finn, he knew what he was doing when he made us a duo. So, are you coming, or do you want more time?”

“I’m coming.”

She hangs up the phone.

“Who was that?”

“Josiah.” I look up, raising an eyebrow. “My friend from high school. His name’s Josiah.”

She turns so quickly that I swear I hear a metal-cranking sound.

Her phone rings again.

She starts to walk away.

“Hey, you dropped this.”

She keeps walking, and that’s when I notice her bag is glowing.

Blue.

The zipper is cracked open just slightly.

I realize it’s not the bag that’s glowing.

It’s a notebook.

A blue, glowing notebook.

She dropped it.

It’s a key. A very important key, I assume. I mean, all keys are important, but this one glows.

I feel something pulling me toward it.

Like a gravitational pull.

I look down and pick up the key. I’ve never seen a key this beautiful just lying on the ground. The girl who dropped it looked like she could have been a scientist or an author, especially with that glowing notebook. The hallways were completely full just a moment ago, and now they’re empty. I didn’t hear a bell ring, though, so I have no idea where everyone went.

I grab my grabber and use it to pick up the key. When I look at it more closely, I realize just how fascinating it is. I don’t know if I should put on gloves or something, but my grabber didn’t get stained or have any reaction to it, so I figure it should be okay.

I touch the key, bracing myself for some kind of tingle that I soon realize doesn’t exist. I’m holding it in my hands, and it really is a key. It’s beautiful, with intricate details and an interlocked, woven design that I’ve never seen on a key before.

I turn it over in my hands and wonder what it could possibly be for. Then I notice something etched into the detailing.

It says IN.

I gasp. Maybe I need to unlock something with it. You know, put it in something.

I look around, but I don’t see anything that looks like a lock. Still, I feel like I’m going to find whatever this key belongs to. Maybe not now, but sometime in the future. God, I think I can figure it out. I think I can almost see it now. Why couldn’t I? It’s not impossible.

Then, just like that, there’s a white flash.

The next thing I know, my head is spinning. It isn’t a bad kind of spinning, just very odd. 

The last thing I remember is a bright white flash.

“Oh my gosh, I’m here.” I immediately check myself. I look at my arms, my legs, and my hands, then search for a reflection so I can check my face. I’m okay. There are no scratches, no bruises, nothing. It feels more like I was teleported here than anything else. I didn’t even fall. I look around and dust myself off before getting to my feet. I feel so tall. I start making my way toward a nearby palm tree, although I’m not entirely sure why. Then the smell of salt hits my nose. Immediately, I get this strange sensory memory, and I realize that I’m at the beach.

I reach into my pocket for the key. It’s still there. I pull it out and see that it’s glowing blue. The letters IN are still etched into it. I turn it over in my hand before putting it safely back into my pocket. Then I look over. That’s odd. There’s a figure covered in leaves sitting nearby. The design is so intricate that I have to crouch down to get a closer look. The leaves seem to be woven together, almost like wheels, and there’s a giant bouquet of them in the middle. You know what? It almost looks like a chair, something someone could sit in. Weird. I hold onto the key and start making my way toward it.

Then I stop. Wait. I almost forgot my wheelchair. I turn around, and it’s all the way back where I started. I need it. I immediately collapse onto the ground. I stare at my wheelchair in the distance, trying to push back the sudden feeling of tears. I don’t know why I thought I could make it this far without it. I can’t even begin to understand what just happened. I sniffle.

Then a voice comes from somewhere in the abyss. “Why’d you stop?”

I turn my head. “Stop? What do you mean, stop?”

Another voice comes from a completely different direction. “Yeah! You were doing so good. You were so entertaining!”

I turn again, trying to figure out where the voices are coming from. “Entertaining? To who?”

A person might be speaking to me, but I can’t see anyone. The voice starts laughing.

“Don’t be so silly. Of course you can see me.”

“I can’t see you.”

“You don’t believe I’m here.”

“I do believe.”

“Did you even try to believe, or did you just give up?”

“Who’s speaking?”

“Why, I am, of course. What are you looking for?”

“I’m looking for IN. Something to put this in.”

“Well, now what sense would that make?”

A breeze suddenly blows past me. I immediately turn my head, trying to figure out where it came from.

“Follow me.”

“I can’t walk.”

“Sure you can. You can use the chair.”

I look over, and the leaves that had been covering the chair suddenly disappear. I make my way over and sit down. Then I start wheeling after the voice. For a split second, I feel hopeful that I’m actually going to find what I’m looking for.

I enter the jungle. It’s pitch-black at first, and I look around, trying to see where I’m going. Then, slowly, my eyes adjust, and I realize I’m surrounded by an incredible ecosystem. The bugs are enormous, the plants are ginormous, and everything is bigger than it should be, but somehow, it’s beautiful.

“I’m looking for IN,” I say.

“Why do you look for IN?” a voice asks.

A ladybug crawls onto the back of my wheelchair, nearly tipping me over. “That makes no sense.”

Then I hear another voice. “Wait. Let’s see what you’re looking for.”

A butterfly flies toward me as the ladybug crawls away. “Don’t be silly,” the butterfly says. “It says FINN.”Then it flies away.

“What do you mean?” I look down at the key, and then it clicks. Maybe she said it wrong, or maybe I read it wrong. Because

the key doesn’t say IN. It says FINN.

I was looking for the wrong safe.

“You guys!” I call out. “I’m trying to find something that says FINN on it!”

I look around at the enormous plants and creatures surrounding me. It’s a crazy, amazing ecosystem, and somehow, I think I’m finally getting closer to Finn. 

“You must be Alice.” A sunflower says, then I immediately turn around.“I’m not Alice. My name is Elisi, and I’m looking for Finn.” “Finn?” The other ladybug moves to the other side of me. “I believe he’s—wait, what is a Finn? Is it something you wave to? I mean, you could wave your dolphin.” “We all know who Finn is,” another voice says, “but who wants to be found? Where is he?” “Finn? He’s probably somewhere in the ocean. He’s a talking dolphin.” “A talking dolphin?!”

“Look, why didn’t the bee know how to speak to me?” “Because they were in the—well, they were over in the Distraction Islands. I mean, you would know. Josiah went there.” “What is happening?” I ask, looking around. I start searching through the area, but now I’m not even sure what I’m looking for. Is Finn a person? A place? A thing? What is a Finn? Is it someone waving at you, like a dolphin fin? I’m completely confused.

“You must be Alice.” “I’m not Alice. My name is Elisi, and I’m looking for Finn.” “Finn?” The other ladybug moves to the other side of me. “I believe he’s—wait, what is a Finn? Is it something you wave to? I mean, you could wave your dolphin.” “We all know who Finn is,” another voice says, “but who wants to be found? Where is he?” “Finn? He’s probably somewhere in the ocean. He’s a talking dolphin.” “A talking dolphin?!”

“Look, why didn’t the bee know how to speak to me?” “Because they were in the—well, they were over in the Distraction Islands. I mean, you would know. Josiah went there.” “What is happening?” I ask, looking around. I start searching through the area, but now I’m not even sure what I’m looking for. Is Finn a person? A place? A thing? What is a Finn? Is it someone waving at you, like a dolphin fin? I’m completely confused.

Someone tells me that I’m looking for a safe with the initials FINN on it, so I keep looking. There are people everywhere—creatures, bees, bugs, and things I can’t even begin to identify. I start asking all of them the same question. “I’m looking for a safe. Or a door. Or a wall. Something that needs this key. I think FINN is the code to the safe. Or maybe it’s the name.” Everyone just stares at me. They look confused. Dumbfounded, even. “What is this?” I ask. “How am I supposed to win if I don’t even know what I’m looking for?”

“FINN!” Someone suddenly shouts from behind me. “I HAD TO RUN QUICKLY! HOLD UP! DID YOU SAY FINN? AS IN OUR FINN?” I turn around. It’s a little caterpillar. I lean down toward it. “Yes. Finn.” “I don’t know anything about a safe,” the caterpillar says, “but I do know about a talking dolphin who made this island!” “A talking dolphin?” “Hold up!” someone else shouts. “THIS WHOLE TIME, YOU’VE BEEN LOOKING FOR FINN?” I turn toward them. “Your key says FINN!”

I analyze the key, staring closely at the letters. It’s glowing blue. I thought FINN was a code, I realize. I never thought it was a name. “Wait…” The caterpillar looks at me. “You really don’t know who Finn is, do you?” I shake my head. “No.” Everyone goes silent. Then the caterpillar points toward the ocean. “Then I think you’re about to find out.”

Something about that... my eyes widen. I make my way towards the water, taking a deep breath, and I step into it. I don’t know what this place is or why I’m here, but it feels like... like home.

Going into the water, the turtle is guiding me, holding my hand. I look down and I realize that the turtles are holding my hand.

"That was so easy."

"It was only easy because they’re holding you up. It was only easy because they were supporting you."

I turned my head and there was no one there. No—nobody said that? OK, that’s what it looks like again.

My head goes deeper and deeper into the ocean. "You’re looking for who?"

"Who told you that?"

"I don’t know. It’s just what this card... this key said."

"You have a key?"

I reach around. I do have a key.

"Keep swimming." And we go deeper into the ocean. The sun has set, and the whole sky looks like this pink and greenish-purple leaf tone.

"No, who are you looking for again?" The turtle asks me.

"His name is Finn."

"I don't think we can even find it." The turtle looks, up at me skeptical. I mutter to myself. "Haha that's funny I bet I need fins to help me swim." I look over and see how far into the water we are, the turtle and I deep in the ocean. "Help me!  wait! I need to hold on to you." 

"A storm is coming!"

"A storm? Yeah, I can’t do this on my own." The turtles eyes widen in a way that almost scares me. 

All of a sudden, a storm hits. I see it—the clouds that were so beautiful get dark and colorful.

"Did you just doubt? What is that? What’s the last thing you said?"

"I can’t do this on my own."

The storm grows. "It’s a sea of doubt! You have to escape it!"

And a wave hits. "I can’t do this without you!"

The storm grows even more. "Stop! You’re controlling the storm! You’re separating us! 

I look at the turtle. "I can’t do it! You can’t leave me! I’ll drown!"

And just like that, I blink. The turtle is gone. I need the key. I reach around for it. It’s gone.

I’m out here, stranded in the middle of the ocean with nothing and no one. I feel like Jonah. 

I try to pray, but the water is going into my nose, it’s going into my ears, it’s going into my eyes. It’s consuming me completely, and I cannot take it. I look around and there’s nothing to look to. The water—the way it hits me again. I look over. How do I get out? How do I make it through?

I need to talk to my best friend. I need help. And I think of it: When you are weak, God is strong.

It hits my memory faster than ever, and I look over. I start praying, "God, please help me."

I hear Him. It’s very calm, very still in the sea. "I hear you. You brought the storm because of your doubt."

I see it, and it’s a mirror. The water turns into a mirror, and it’s looking back at me. I caused the storm. I brought the storm because of my doubts—when I didn't want to leave the wheelchair, when I wanted to stay, thinking I couldn’t do it. It separated me from the guide. The turtle was guiding me through.

If I brought it, I can reverse it. I can do this. I can do this.

A wave takes me under and I’m completely submerged. I can do this.

I open my eyes. I can do this. I can do this.

I see a white flash. The white flash is white... it’s blue. The key! It’s at the bottom—all the way at the bottom of the ocean. I dive deeper. I have to get it.

I look around. Is there somebody to help me? I have to get it. I dive deeper, swimming harder against a current that later I realize didn't even exist. I pick up the key, and as my eyes adjust, I flip it over.

Alice? Why would the key say that? I thought this was Finn.

"I don’t need a—"

A voice echoes, "Alice."

“I see a white flash, and it’s the last thing I remember. I’m here. There are a bunch of fish.”

“No, my name isn’t Alice.”

A dolphin swims toward me. “Elisi. Her name isn’t Alice. It’s Elisi.” Everyone turns their heads to find the voice, and that’s when I see him. It’s a talking dolphin.

“You are correct. It’s Elisi.” He smiles.

“Then why does everyone keep calling me Alice?”

The dolphin looks at me. “Because that was your mother’s name.”

“But that doesn’t explain why everybody was calling me that.”

He points toward the key. “It’s because you picked up your mother’s key.”

“My mother’s key?”

He flips over the key, and it says Alice on it. “Your mother’s key. She loved coming here. But this key was given to me by Iman and Josiah,” the dolphin continues. “They were the first people here and my best friends, and my prized students.” He smiles at me. “I’m so happy to find you, but from now on, I have some things to tell you.”

“From now on, all the doubts that you have, they have to end. Because every time you make progress, you pull yourself back. What do you mean by thinking things like, You can’t, when in actuality, you can? That sea of doubt and the mirror—it was all you. You have to believe in yourself the same way your dad believes in you, and the same way God loves you, too.”

My eyes widen. “You know about God?”

He nods his head. “Of course. He probably created all of this.

Finn smiles 

“Look around. You have a huge support system. Your dad, God, your church.and You I look down at my legs