(Here’s an excerpt from my allegorical book, “The World According To Perfect.” It features Elliot, a boy of about 12, and a character who reveals his name as Perfect. It’s the most challenging and captivating thing I have ever written, so would you support me with your prayer? I’m struggling to be immersed in it, which is what is needed.)
The fear of failure and punishment were constants to Elliot, no less so than on this, the weekend when his parents could be gone for the whole day.
“It doesn’t feel like they trust me,” said Elliot. “It feels like they leave everything to me so they can go do what they want. If something bad happened around here, well, . . .” His voice sank, and his eyes fell toward the muddy ground. “I understand,” said Perfect. “They do the best with what they know, Elliot. But I don’t trust you that way. I trust you with my life.” Lifting his gaze from the ground to meet Perfect’s eyes, Elliot asked, “But how can you? Who are you to trust me? And why would you trust me?” “More good questions, my friend,” he replied. “Walk a bit with me, won’t you?”
Together they walked from the barnyard in the direction of the well. As they did, Perfect said, “I am one who serves. I am one who gives life and who does not ask for it in return. I am one who loves. What do you think of that, Elliot?” Making no effort to hide his wonder, Elliot said, “I—I don’t know what to say. I’m not sure I know exactly what you mean, but I think I believe you. Why is that?” he asked.
Swinging up into the saddle, Perfect grinned, and said, “Until tomorrow, Elliot, when we’ll talk about that.” “You have to go?” asked Elliot. “But there’s so much I want to ask you, so much I don’t know.” Looking kindly upon him, Perfect said, “You will enjoy the truth, Elliot. You were made for the truth.”