She stood upon the cliff, trembling and out of breath from the climb. She glanced down to examine herself, to evaluate the damage, and her heart sank at what she was. Her hands were rough and calloused, her bare feet lanced and bleeding from the rocks upon which she now stood. But it was what she didn’t see that discouraged her the most. Her face throbbed at the temples, coaxing her to just close her eyes and sleep until sunrise. Her muscles ached relentlessly, burning and pleading with her to lay down and rest – protesting when she couldn’t. Her heart still beat, though she felt pathetically weak, as if blood trickled through her veins rather than coursing as it should. But she couldn’t see her blood weakening. She couldn’t witness her muscles quivering. She couldn’t see the source of her headache. And she couldn’t find Him to ask for healing.
He’d told her to meet Him here, that He’d come for her at this place and take her home to safety. She had clung to this, desperately looking forward to their rendezvous, knowing everything would be alright when they were together. She’d sprinted along the coast to get here on time; when she’d run out of shoreline she’d continued upward, climbing the jagged cliff side to reach the top. The ocean had sprayed at her, soaking her clothing. The wind had rocked at her, nearly knocking her off the rocks several times. But she was here. She’d arrived drenched, tired, and freezing, expecting the warmth of His embrace and the comfort of His words. She gazed out beyond the rocks onto the waters, searching for any sign of Him among the crashing waves. She found none. Turning her gaze to the darkening sky, she scoured the heavens for Him, but found only a dark, thickening thunderhead riddled with lightning. But she found no shred of evidence that He was here.
She shook violently, partly from the wind, but mostly from fear. Had she gotten the time and place wrong? Was she too early – or worse, was she too late? What if He’d shown up but hadn’t waited for her? Should she turn around and try to find her way home without Him?
She heard the sand shift behind her and her heart lit and fluttered that He was finally here. She spun, arms open and ready for Him, but gasped as hope was, in a single instant, devoured by fear and despair. There, where she’d expected Him – her hope, her love, her joy – to be, stood the Enemy instead.
He’d followed her here, knowing who she was supposed to meet, and knowing every fear and misunderstanding and doubt that resided in her heart. He’d tracked her here like a famished predator who now stood smugly as she, his prey, cowered before him. He didn’t move toward her, not yet; he only stared her down as the realization that she was totally alone washed over her. A sickening smile spread across his face as her arms dropped and terror played across her face.
It was his beauty that terrified her most, she decided in that moment. Beauty so intense and tempting it had to be dangerous. The fluidity of his movement as he shifted his weight sang with power – like watching the muscles of a cobra ripple before the lethal strike. His eyes held her, paralyzing her with the intensity of his stare. Those eyes, black and piercing, probed her relentlessly and she withered involuntarily, knowing exactly which private, secret parts of her he sought with his gaze. His eyes violated her, accused her, condemned her, and sought to destroy her. He didn’t utter a word – he didn’t have to – for his eyes cut her to ribbons like no words ever could.
She inhaled deeply and tried to brace herself for what was coming – she knew too well that this was his way. He waited, letting fear and anticipation build within her, and then he struck mercilessly, always in new ways she could never foresee or expect. She could never be fully prepared for him, for the way he wrapped himself around her, coiling tightly, whispering softly, taking ruthlessly.
“He’s not coming,” he cooed, advancing on her with deadly grace.
“He’ll be here,” she countered, knowing the doubt in her voice betrayed her.
“This isn’t the first time he’s left you waiting by yourself, is it?” He reached out and toyed with her ear using his deadly fingertips; her stomach pitched as he touched her in such an intimate way. “All alone, unprotected…vulnerable.” He emphasized the last word by leaning in and whispering it against her shivering lips.
“He’ll be here.” She turned her back to him to face the ocean, unwilling to show him the tears that sprung to her eyes – unwilling to show him that doubt had, indeed, crept its way into her heart.
“Poor sweetheart.” He slid his arms around her waist, delighted when he felt her cringe at his touch – recoil at the use of her favorite term of endearment. She wept silently as her Enemy embraced her, pinning her arms to her sides so that she couldn’t reach elsewhere for help. Clever trick, she mused.
“Don’t you want to feel better?” He murmured, his lips now against the skin above her jugular vein, a kiss that made her skin crawl.
“He’ll be here,” she now sobbed, sinking to her knees to escape his embrace. He sank with her, yet somehow he seemed to tower over her.
“You know how to make this all go away.” His words were a vicious temptation to her, whittling away at her strength and resolve. He painted pictures in her mind as he caressed her, vivid imagery she was all too familiar with. His words, like venom, rendered her paralyzed, though she wanted nothing more than to peel his hands away from her weak and broken body. In her mind she cried out, Please! Please stop this!
“No,” the Enemy whispered tenderly, his voice masked, sounding so similar to the one whom she sought. Despair threatened to overtake her – if he would only stop touching her, she could flee and find help.
Beloved, she heard from deep inside. She dared not move, afraid to let him know that He was somewhere close; he would surely end her, right then and there.
Here I am, she thought fiercely.
Jump.
She didn’t understand His command. Jump? Really? Did He want her to die? Was this really the only escape? Had the Enemy really ravaged her so thoroughly that death was the only answer? She didn’t trust it – she realized with devastation that while the Enemy had his arms wrapped around her so tightly, she couldn’t distinguish between his voice and the One she was aching for. She couldn’t hear a difference in their whispers; she knew not which one to trust.
Beloved, hear my voice. Jump into the water, and I will rescue you.
“But I’m afraid!” She cried out loud as the Enemy’s laugh crept down her spine. He seemed to slither all around her, scoring every inch of her with his touch, delighting as she weakened. She couldn’t bear it any longer.
Rise. Stand up and leap. I will rescue you.
She hadn’t noticed that He was standing beside her, shouting whispers over the Enemy. She had been completely incapable of feeling His touch, of feeling Him within her every time she uttered the words, “He’ll be here”. Her body, her mind, her soul went numb to survive the assault. He’d known the Enemy would show up, He’d known how he would test her. He’d known she would despair but never break. Some day she would see it the same way, but for now she could only search for the strength to obey – to rise up and leap into the raging waters beneath her.
He once more welled up inside her mightily that she might feel Him and cling to His strength.
Rise, Beloved, He whispered fiercely, and jump.
A cry tore from her throat, brazen and frightening to the one who clung to her back, and she shoved to her feet. The Enemy fell back into the dirt, stunned and angry, and she flew forward on wings that weren’t her own. She soared through the air falling toward the violent waters, clearing every jagged rock just before plunging into the icy, storm-ridden sea.
She hit the water head first, the impact dizzying and disorienting her. Unsure which direction the surface was, she kicked violently, praying for air, pleading for Him to rescue her. Her lips found air and she sucked in desperately before a wave crashed over her, sending her tumbling once more. Her lungs screamed for oxygen, her arms flailed for anything to grab hold of. Every once in a while her lips broke the surface and discovered air, but other times she found only endless water. When she choked, she could hear her Enemy laugh, a sick and satisfied chuckle in the back of her mind. She pleaded with Him for rest, for deliverance, for calmer waters in which she could tread, even swim for shore. In her turmoil she couldn’t see His arms reaching for her, she could barely hear His voice coaching and encouraging her to outstretch her arms in His direction. In her panic He felt so far away, His voice so small and distant.
Her feet were growing weary of kicking, her lungs exhausted from coughing, her eyes burned from weeping. Hadn’t He promised to rescue her just moments before she leapt into this unending torrent of troubled waters? Had she too little faith that He would leave her here to drown? Was it all her own fault? The truth seemed clear to her – she was drowning, and He was letting her. Her lips found air once more, and just before yet another wave came crashing over her, she cried out in her heart, Oh God, where are you?
He pulled her beneath the surface to protect her from the impact of the waves. When she needed air He pushed her to the surface, guiding her lips to calmer waters. He fought off the predators in the water – the violent rocks, the invisible rip tides, the hungry beasts that lurked and lusted for her blood – He rebuked them and kept them away. Though the sound of His voice was lost to her beneath the water or amidst the raging storm, He never ceased to call her name, His sweetheart, His Beloved; His encouragement and joy never ceased in her willingness to swim rather than sink.
When the storm finally calmed she would see clearly, He knew, that He never once left her side. She would see that the battle had been won and by His mercy she would live to tell of victory. But for now she wept, bitter and afraid, and He wept with her, for her. For now they would both remain in stormy waters – He would remain in battle on her behalf, and she would remain too pummeled and weary to recognize that it was in His love she was drowning, and by His hand she would survive.
No comments:
Post a Comment