Many of you who have been reading my posts have emailed and asked me about the gospel underwater. You want to know, who is most like Christ? Who knows? Maybe the reason so many allegories ring false is because Christ isn’t one-dimensional. He’s not just a Savior like this or that, for this kind of person in that kind of scenario. He’s a Savior to all. He accomplished a lot up there on the cross, acting like a wind sock for the Father, capturing the Spirit. And which of us—Iara, Lithe, myself, Jonah, Sebastian—could ever really be wholly like Christ? The truth is, we all have the devil in us, and Christ too. And we must invite Christ to stamp out the adversary in our hearts, asking Him to purify us and cleanse us, so we become the people He has designed and destined us to be from the beginning.
I wasn’t kidding when I called Jonah’s awakening a miracle, though I still think the real miracle was his calling me daddy. He hasn’t done that since, but when he said it on Daedelus, Liz softened in a heartbeat. Much of my own hurt began to heal just then as well. I’ve never loved anyone like I love my boy, as if all the prior loves I’ve experienced were either of a lesser quantity or a different quality. I have fallen in love for the first time all over again. Everything I love about Liz, I see in him. And everything I don’t hate about myself is there too.
I just wish he were with me now. And Liz, of course.
Jonah isn’t wholly adapted to low-pressure systems, and he started to freak out on our initial climb from Daedelus. Liz had warned us this might be the case. She had had plenty of time to consider his physiognomy while living as a fishwife for almost a year. As a scientist, she had her suspicions about the likelihood of the little gaffer ever going to preschool. Despite being fully human, his little body was first acclimatized to Atlantean pressure systems. He cannot come up above a depth of approximately 800 feet. We have hopes his condition can be overcome in time. Fortunately we were able to arrest our ascent and turn back to Daedelus. Eventually we decided I should go back topside, but that Liz would stay with our son. I told Liz that it was for the best, that Jonah needed his mother. But the truth is that she needs him too. He heals her, and much like the infected needed to be in the same room with Jonah for the antitoxin to translate, Liz needs to be with her son in order to translate the long promises of God into the new reality of our family.
I’d say I was right back where I began, but the big difference concerns the stuff I know. I know what happened to Liz. I know we are together. I know myself again, and that includes knowing myself as a husband, a father, and an expeditionary amphibian. I can’t wait to get back to my family.
But there are a few hiccups.
Money, for one. Since Sebastian’s death, Institut Oceanographique has put all operations on hiatus. They’re not going back for at least three years. I don’t have any money to go either, despite all the publicity I’ve been getting and the royalty checks for things like TV appearances and interviews.
But two groups have expressed interest in helping me get back to the Daedelus, at least, as long as that’s only the first stop. I encountered both while at the funeral for Nessa and Jo, and the fact that they allowed their individual brands of greed to overshadow their individual brands of remorse is telling in and of itself.
So, despite the problems I’m currently facing, I am confident I’ll be back underwater soon. The only question is whether it will be with the military or the missionaries.
I’ll keep you posted.