And Ye Shall Be as Gods

Aaron Ward: Chapter 22 is one of those rare moments in literature where prose becomes prayer. The imagery the light filtering through memory, the ache of distance between what was and what could have been is absolutely transcendent. What struck me most was how Jake’s grief takes on new shapes here. It’s no longer loud or desperate; it’s quieter, but heavier, the way stones feel beneath still water.

I was particularly moved by the subtle interplay between faith and despair. Jan Notzon shows us that the two are not opposites but companions. Jake’s questioning feels almost holy an act of courage rather than rebellion. His vulnerability, his trembling honesty, reminds us that to love deeply is to suffer willingly.

Jan, this chapter is a meditation on endurance on how we learn to keep breathing when the air itself feels like memory. Thank you for writing with such raw elegance. Our community felt every word like a heartbeat, and we’re ready to follow Jake wherever this fragile hope may lead next