Faith
Jack Bauer didn't seem like a man that would cry all that often. But there were some late nights when it all became to much, some brief moments when it felt like the world was on his shoulders. He cried then. It wasn't really a cry of absolute sorrow or despair; Jack Bauer, when he could, found ways to enjoy his life. It was more a cry to just let it all out, when it all came to much.
His cries were also filled with confusion. What Would Jesus Do, Choose the Right, it all seemed so easy. Except it wasn't easy when he didn't know what was right. It wasn't easy when he didn't know what Jesus would do.
That night was one of those times, when he was crying. Just crying. He was crying to mourn the death of his beloved wife, crying because of the despair that surrounded him daily, crying because he was so confused.
But more than anything, this cry was a prayer, a cry for help to the One that Jack wasn't completely sure even existed. Jack had been raised sort of religious, going to church occasionally, always for Easter and Christmas Eve. But later in life, Jack found himself turning to God when he had no one else, hoping beyond hope that what all of those middle aged woman had taught him many Sunday's was true.
Jack had faith. It was a different faith than what most people had. Most choose to believe that God is there for them, but Jack simply had to. When he was put into those impossible situations or times of total sadness, he had to rely on something that he wasn't sure was there, like falling and hoping that something would catch him.
However, every time he fell, there was always something there. Sometimes, he didn't think that there was at first, like the time when his wife had died. He was sure then that he had fallen and hit the ground. But then, that day when the bomb went off, he had been caught again, and he had learned and grown from the terrible thing that it was to lose a loved one.
So now, feeling so lost and confused and just so sad, he fell. He fell and had faith, though it was shaky, that somehow or another, God would catch him.
Jack just laid there for a long time, freefalling. He wondered and he hoped and he sobbed, praying just for God to come and be with him, catch him in this moment when he questioned everything that he had grown to believe in.
Suddenly, Jack was hit with a sense of relief. Everything would be okay, and he knew that. He didn't know how or why he knew; he didn't know what would happen in the next minute, day, or eternity. But he just knew that, no matter what, it would all just be okay.
And that, strangely enough, stopped his sobbing. Jack had nothing to cry for anymore. Some things in his life were so sad it made every fiber in his being ache with despair, like thinking about his wife. But, somehow, it would all work out in the end, and of that Jack was convinced. However, he didn't stop being confused. But that was okay too. Because Jack, as unsure as he was about so many things, about good and evil, about trusting and having faith, he was sure about one thing. As he lay there, in his bedroom where the only other human flesh was the next house away, he had that shaky yet strong faith that he was not alone.
