This is a translation of my short novel, originally written in Japanese.

This is my way of praising God.

God gave me the grace to write this,
And I give it back to Him for His glory.

-Fusae Wakatsuki-

《the Eternal calm》

　
 A song. A slightly off-key soprano wavers in the summer’s sunset. A faint voice, after so much crying, almost lost in the songs of cicadas from high up trees in the vast garden. I drew near to where the voice comes from, in the old mansion, at the corner of a winding hallway, to the dusk, toward the big room.

 The assistant pastor of my church was killed. It’s been a week, on the night of the summer festival, by a man with a knife. It was like he went to be killed. He threw himself in front of the stubber, among the crowds of people, on purpose, to be an only sacrifice.

 I don’t even know if I was sad or not. It just took my breath away. His intense resolution. I was told that before he took the last breath at the hospital, he whispered to his wife “To live is Christ. To die is gain.”. It all felt so vivid to me, I almost felt breathless.

 He that was born into an old family, in the city of Matsumoto, Nagano prefecture, and was baptized while he was studying in the United States. He that refused to worship his ancestor saying “I am saved by Jesus, filled with Holy Ghost.” and threw away the domestic Buddhist shrine handed down for hundreds of years in the family, His family was a village headman in the Edo period. He that was a master of an old family, disowned and disfellowshipped by all his clan. He that was gossiped about, as “the Christ-crazy”.

 After he burned all the bridges, he opened his huge mansion, with a long fence and great gate, not too far from Matsumoto castle, as a church. It’s been ten years or more since I started to come to this church. I saw it all by his side. So I can say, that Bro. Maki was truly Christ-crazy. Izumi Maki, aged 52.
　
 The song was too faint, I slightly opened the sliding door to hear it. Between the Urushi edge of the door, the cold intense atmosphere of the room hit my nose. I could get scolded, but it was a familiar song. Yes, that was the song I sang. Five or six years ago, Bro. Maki translated a song written by someone and told me to sing it saying “Bro. Kume, you have such a nice voice, you sing instead of me.” I said “It’s a gloomy song just like you.” and he punched me a bit.

 How could she remember such an old song? After that, I sang it twice or thrice on Sunday, and Bro. Maki and I forgot all about it. “Nah, I am no good at translating a song. I will do it no more.” And he never translated a song after that.

The hurt will never stop the music
All the pain can never stop the praise
And all the crying just push me more to worship
And all the heartaches, failures and mistakes

Can never take away the music..
Can never take away the praise
My heart will always say, I will trust You Lord and bless Your Holy Name
For all the pain and hurt will never stop the music.

 From a thin opening, I could see Bro. Maki’s dead body lying in a white casket. After the incident, he was held by police for a postmortem and was not known when he will come home. After a long wait, his body came back with embalming and was clean and smooth despite the death it suffered. Though the technique of embalming is not widely practiced in Japan, Pastor Paul, our American pastor insisted to get him one. 

 All the liquids are taken out and preservatives are poured in. So he looks like he is just sleeping, and is safe to touch. Leaning to the casket, newly widowed Sis. Yae is taking her dead husband’s hand and pressing it to her cheek. After the body came back, she never left the room. We have to criminate his body tomorrow after the funeral, but we can’t bring it up to her. “She might even Sati.” said her cousin, Sis. Akari and I asked her back, “What, a Settee?” Sis. Akari laughed at me with her nose.

He never said you won't have no problem
Or that you'll never experience many battles 
But through it all, He said He'll never leave you
And all those wounds you have and all the battle scars

If nothing can separate us
From the precious love of God
Then neither death nor life, neither depth nor height, no matter what it is, it can never take away, it can never take away

 Sis. Yae singing it with a faint voice was so worn out hardly presentable. But she looked like an angel, wrapped around with a white blanket. After her husband died, she almost lost her mind. It was a bit surprising to see her in such a state. They weren't the most affectionate couple, had no children, and she has enough fortune to sustain her for lifetime despite the death of spouse.

 Only when I see Sis. Yae, Bro. Maki’s death becomes sad. His action, frankly passing into the Eternal calm, raises a question if it was self-complacent or not. It almost makes me want to say something to him about leaving her in such a storm.

  In the empty room, with a white casket, Sis. Yae is singing. There is no pretense in her voice. The one who repeatedly spoken suicidal words just few hours ago, is now singing sure of the Christ's love, her wet eyes lit with the victory.

 I wanted to ask her why, though I knew. Why can you sing in such a situation? I knew, that it is just a momentary calm. She will again say some suicidal words and she will not take the cremation of her husband easily. But right this moment, she is worshipping. The worship, only a widow whose husband is killed recently can give, graphic praise, to Jesus Christ.

 She was not an angel. For angels cannot give praise like this. Atoned by suffering, bleeding praise, powerful worship. Angels have never sinned nor lived a life. Angels cannot whisper to God, “Even though, even though I love you, Jesus.”

 I could not stand it anymore and opened the door to enter. Sis. Yae looked toward me and rubbed her tear-swollen eyes to open. Beside her, the shell of Bro. Maki lies, who is in the Eternal calm by now. With gray linen suits on, a gentle expression on his face. I felt envious. Though I scolded Sis. Yae for wanting to die. For we that are left on this side, are blown in the stormy sea.

 “Am I needed for something?”

 Sis. Yae said and gave me an unpleasant look, for being disturbed during her worship time. She who opens her own home for a church, has no privacy at all. I averted my eyes from her, who is lovingly squeezing a dead hand with her own, and shook my head. I wanted to say something, but couldn’t.

 Silently I came by the casket and touched his stomach covered by a shirt. It must have been somewhere around here, that he was stubbed. “Stop it, brother, that’s so gross,” said Bro. Maki in my head. At the opposite side of the casket, Sis. Yae looked at me suspiciously, obviously thinking that my action is gross also.

↑The song by Bro Fed Music, Appearing in the novel. It is translated to Japanese for this novel.