Floorboards

Roger slipped his crowbar between the boards, tapped it firm with his hammer, and gave it a pry. The floorboard creaked and started to give.

Roger was here by himself this morning. It was a Sunday, probably 7:45, and his crew had the day off. But Roger liked working alone. It gave him more time with his thoughts, and an excuse not to go to church with his wife.

He wasn’t sure how to tell his wife he didn’t think he believed in God anymore.

Roger had been in marketing for 10 years but always had liked working with his hands. Two years ago the agency he’d worked for had been acquired by a national firm and his job had been eliminated. His severance package had afforded him a couple months to think about what to do next.

That was when he had decided to start house-flipping.

He’d loved it from the start. Running his hands reverently over the old bones of the house, deciding what would stay and what would go. Poring over blueprints, choosing whether to sink the den or keep the beams exposed. He wasn’t much of an interior decorator but that was where Isabel, his wife, came in.

Together, they brought old broken-down homes back to life.

Roger had met Isabel in Bible college, and they’d gotten married right after they graduated. Most of their friends had gotten married young too. A bunch of 22-year-old kids making lifelong commitments. Some were already divorced.

Roger loved Isabel more than on the day they got married, though. He knew she felt the same way. They couldn’t imagine their lives without each other.

That was part of why he was so scared to tell her about not believing in God anymore.

Roger couldn’t point to any particular moment that shattered his faith in God. He hadn’t had a child die unexpectedly or anything like that. Over time questions had just bubbled up that he couldn’t answer anymore.

He moved the crowbar down a few inches and pried again. This house was going to need almost a complete demo. Most of the walls were already out, and all the floorboards were going to have to go.

Roger wasn’t worried, though. He had plenty of capital and a good crew. He figured he’d pocket $40,000 from the house if everything went well.

His best friend Grant in college had gotten married when he did and had gotten divorced a few years back. Roger had always liked Grant’s wife and was shocked when Grant told him the news. He’d asked Grant why it has happening.

“Do you know when you take a bath and the water’s really hot when you get in?” Grant had asked. “But after you’ve been in for a while it gradually cools down. You don’t notice while it’s happening but all of a sudden you realize you’re lying in cold water. That’s how it was. I just woke up one morning and realized I didn’t love Amy anymore.”

Roger wondered if the same thing had happened to him with God.

He gave another pry on the floorboard. You never knew what you were going to find under there in a dilapidated old house like this. He’d found dead animals, faded comic books where Captain Marvel was a man, the list goes on. He’d learned not to be surprised by what he saw.

Just then his phone rang. He fished it out of his pocket and said, “Hey, babe.”

Isabel was calling to ask if he was coming to church. He said no, that he wanted to knock out a couple of things with the house. She seemed disappointed but said “Ok. I’ll miss you.”

Roger told her he’d miss her too, and he meant it. He said they should try out the new Mexican restaurant for lunch and she agreed. They both said, “I love you,” before they hung up.

Roger put the phone back in his pocket. He knew he’d have to break the news soon.

He wasn’t afraid of Isabel leaving him when he told her. He just knew she’d be devastated, and he hated seeing her sad. He also knew if he told her it would be final, and he wasn’t sure he was ready for that.

He had grown up in a Christian family and never remembered not being a Christian. It had been baked right into him. But over time the foundation had started to crack.

He wondered why an all-powerful God seemed so pettily dependent on human prayer. Why if an all-loving God had the power to change things right now he’d wait to do it until humans groveled and pleaded before him.

He also wondered what would be left of him if he stopped being a Christian now. Rejecting Jesus felt like rejecting himself.

Roger gave a big tug on the crowbar and felt the nails give way. He grabbed the floorboard and moved it out of its place.

Suddenly he felt a fierce curiosity mixed with a sense of dread. He didn’t want to look into the hole he’d created, but he couldn’t look away. Slowly, he moved his head over the hole and peered down.

As his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he slowly made out his own face looking back up at him. Apparently a broken mirror had been left down there.

Roger stared at himself for quite some time. He had been there all along.