Love

This is an overflow of the soul. I can hardly claim these words as mine, for I am only a messenger of the King.

I looked into the deep well of my soul, and I was apalled at what I saw there.  There was anger and greed and bitterness and malice.  All types of evil swirled within me, and I knew then that I was wicked, perhaps beyond redemption.  I could not bear it, and I fell to my knees in despair.  The tears fell, hot and salty from my eyes--the tears from a wretch.  I remembered the tales of my youth--stories of fire and brimstone, of burning lakes of fire, of eternal damnation.  Was I to be condemned?!  I could not bear that punishment!  I could not stand death forever!

 

So I looked at my hands, hands that had done terrible things.  I saw the blood on them, I saw the dirt underneath my nails, the grime and filth that came from my work as a sinner.  My mouth fell agape as I realized that these hands had killed dreams and ruined good things.  How could have I ever become so evil?!  Yet, when was I not evil?  Had I not always been in the wrong?  Desperation came upon me; my breathing became ragged.  This could not be!  What a monstrosity was I!  My agony was too great to bear, my pain was too much to handle.  

 

I reached to my lips, and I felt the heavy iron of chains.  These chains, that bound my heart to my mouth to my hands, had held me for far too long.  I had cut down tender plants of faith and set fire to full grown forests with these lips.  Oh, if only I could cut it out!  If only I could damn it all to hell, to be set ablaze with fire, and to burn to ash.  Who would save this wretch?  Who would dare to come my way?  Can anything be resurrected once it has been dead for such a time?  Is there no Savior for this corpse of bones?  

 

It was then that I looked up and cried to the heavens.  I beat my breast, and heaped dirt on my head.  Oh agony!  Oh despair!  Where could comfort be found?  Where could rescue come from?  I clawed at my wounds, like a madman who rages and foams at the mouth.  I screamed until my voice was no more and my throat dry as a desert.  This winter of my soul, where all was frozen over and barren, had erupted into this harsh storm, with blowing gales and roaring winds.  Who could help me from freezing or drowning?  How could I survive such a disaster of the heart?

 

At long last I closed my eyes and hung my head.  There was a fire burning in my chest, a ferocious yearning, a grueling, silent, prayer.  As it ebbed and flowed, a calmness came over me.  It was over.  I could do no more.  I was condemned, a wretch, a sinner.  There was little to do but lay down and die.  I looked into my soul, and mourned the death within me.  Innocence had never been mine.  Would it ever?  I clinged to the small hope, the prayer within me, that one day I could be clean, pure, righteous.  I grasped to the small flicker within me, though it died as I did, that perhaps this would not be the end.

 

With one last cry, out to the desolate, barren wilderness in which I lay, I nearly gave up.  But as my eyes opened, I saw a face.  Oh, what a face!  So beaten and bruised, bloody and broken!  I couldn't bear to look at it, yet couldn't bear to turn away.  His eyes--what eyes!  I saw in them the death of my soul, I saw the forgiveness of sins, the mercy of the one Great God.  And as I stared, I saw the most painful and wonderful thing of all.  I saw Love.  It was the Love that held me.  I was here, a wretch, a sinner still, and he was dying for me.  Because He Loved me.  

 

The sky, dark and pregnant with tears, let loose.  The floodgates of heaven opened up to pour on us the tears of the Father, of the angels, of the Son.  And as he died, I felt my spirit be taken from me in a powerful pull from my chest.  I looked around, and found myself surrounded by darkness.  Yet I was not in this place of darkness for long.  Soon I was being pulled, again, shooting upwards into a marvelous light.  Over and over, I heard my name called.  It was soft but urgent.  It was gentle but demanding.  It was irresistable.  I gave in, and was lifted up to the heavens.

 

I stood, before the throne of God above.  He looked at me, with kind but fiery eyes.  I found my heart at peace.  I found my soul at rest.  It had quieted its tormented plea and was loosed in my chest to be happy and light.  He extended His hand, and I saw in it a golden rod and the scars that humanity--but no! it was Love--had branded him.  I found my hand in his, and to my amazement, he arose to take me in, pull me close, and clothe me with a light brighter than the sun's.  And in that light, brighter than any star's, we danced.  

 

I found myself once again transfixed by his eyes.  There was a passion, a joy, a welcoming in those bright eyes.  And there was Love.  I looked into them, drinking in the words He said, intoxicated by the happy quietness of my soul.  I was, at long last, in the arms of my One Love.  Softly and tenderly, he said to me, "My beloved child, how I have waited for this moment!"  Tears came to my eyes, and I found myself weeping.  Tears of joy ran down my face, and he folded me up in his arms.  

 

When His arms loosened slightly, I saw that I was back in the desert.  But it was a desert no more.  It was lush, with hlls and mountains and rivers and lakes.  My soul was no longer barren.  It was the most beautiful place I had ever seen, yet it could not compare with the look in His eyes when He had said those words to me.  I looked up, and saw him there--same warm eyes, same scarred hands.  I could not contain my tears once again.  Wiping them from my eyes, he said to me, "My dearest love, go and do as I have done.  Comfort those in need.  Free the oppressed.  Love as I have loved you.  Above all, my love, my child, you must Love."

 

I looked into the well of my soul, and what a bright happy sight I saw there!  I was new, I was clean, I was pure.  "I have paid a great price for you," he said to me. "But I have paid that price for every single other person living or dead, from beginning to end."  Again, I came to weeping, and he folded me in his arms.  I knew I would never be the same.  I knew I could not let my heart rest until I had spent every bit of energy I had spreading this news of Love.  When he loosened his arms, I saw I was in a city, a dark and wicked place.  Yet in my heart, there was a pulse of Love.  It throbbed in my fingertips, brightened my eyes, and lifted my head.

 

Though I could not see Him, I knew full well that He was here.  In my ears, the words rang out clearly, like a charge of electricity: "Above all, my love, my child, you must Love."  And, having seen Love for myself, I knew I had no other option than to obey.  

Author's Note

Please feel free to comment. This is the second story I've done like this. Honestly, it's more an exploration of the soul and salvation than anything else. Thank you so much for reading!!!

Reviews

[beautiful dreamer]

wow siren this is awesome :)

[quinfinn]

well, i must say...this is a magnificent write. you exude raw emotion in the purest and most honest fashion. you torment the reader with your pain and suffering and then bring him/her to the pinnacle of salvation and enduring peace and love. i hope in my heart that the end is truly what you have painted here. beautiful!