Have I Lost Myself?

will heaven step in?

Noah had avoided his home for weeks now. As the seasons changed, he stayed further away for longer and longer. The neighbors were starting to whisper, and the man hated that. If his father were here, if he had known the situation, he certainly would not approve. It was not the Olson way. Olsons were meant to be good. Meant to be beacons of wisdom, excellence, selflessness. In his hurt, in his pain, in his sorrow, Noah was acting selfish. He tried to run away from confronting the woman by burying himself in his work. He moved between his office and the tundra, coming home only to check the fire in the morning before she woke and to store meat in the underground freezer behind the house.

But he needed to be more present. This wasn't healthy, for either of them.

So he stepped through the front door. He stood in the doorway for a long time. He looked around the house. Somehow it didn't look like his house anymore -- it looked like their's. Her's. He took of his coat, slowly, and changed from his outdoor boots to his indoor shoes. The house was cleaner now than it ever had been, even when his mother was alive. She was a great many things, but she often chose to keep her sons alive rather than keeping the house -- and with raising two young boys, no one could blame her. He watched her move about the kitchen silently, working hard at whatever she was cooking. He watched her for several minutes before she asked him if he wanted to stay for dinner.

He wasn't sure if he wanted to.

"Yes."

will it save us from our sin?