Stripped. Naked. Exposed, all of me, to a staring world. As though born for the purpose of humiliation, I sit in my glass house, shamed. A spectacle disrobed before a race of those heavily clad. These clothe themselves in many layers, concealing parts given to greater honor, effectively hiding shame that befalls all without exception. It is with a perception of freedom that they build, brick upon brick, the wall that ensures independence and solitude.
As war ravages an entire land, so it comes to me. Once free, peaceful, and full, now bearing the quality of emptiness. Void of people, crops, homes and laughter. Void of laughter. Laughter that may never return. All stolen. Hauled off under cover of the night shadows. A land that lies in darkness, empty as the starless night that now consumes it. A land that longs for the peaceful ignorance it once knew.
Denuded and ravaged. This work done by the hand a man cannot know by means of his own devices. A deeper work. More exacting. Aimed at completion. With inhuman precision, the claws dig deep. My chest opens wide, seared not by intense heat, but with an icy cold. The cold spreads through my body like leaven as the last warmth flows from the wound into a puddle around my feet.
With one last breath, a glimmering hope causes me to stare into wild eyes before me. Endless eyes. Eyes that reveal a torrential sea, vast and violent. Lightning flashes. Thrown to and fro, the dreadful power of the storm pushes and pulls at my body threatening to devour me. A brief window of composure permits the sight of approaching land. Land grows larger, more defined, until, at last, I enter a river.
Moving upstream, my body is hurled from rock to rock. The water’s force beats down, pounding me into submission. Onward and upward, a strange force draws me into the unknown. Curiously, I discover my complete lack of pain. I feel nothing despite the brute indifference of the storm. By way of the river, I am taken into what appears to be a garden.
It is here that I first see the sun in this new world. The storm, the rain, the thunder and lightning, and howling wind are gone. Not that they ceased, for something must exist in order to cease. They are no more, as though they never were. As though I simply awoke from a childhood nightmare full of those things I could not consciously conjure in my imagination nor recall upon waking.
Confusion, fear, and panic all subside as a peace unlike any other consumes my body. I bask in the sunshine that illuminates a cloudless sky. The river flows on and on surrounded by rolling hills and trees as far as the eye can see. Fruit trees of some kind I have not yet known. Trees scattered in a way wholly unlike the order a man would set an orchard, but ordered still. An order imposed by nature itself or, perhaps, a force greater than nature.
From the water I rise, carried by unseen hands into the center of a small grove of trees. I stand now before a man. Naked and unashamed, his eyes tell me that he has nothing to hide. He seems not to notice the invasion of the garden he tends. Through observation, I find that he is much like me, yet bears a strange, otherworldly quality. I wonder if I am still on earth or, perhaps, in a distant world yet to be tamed.
He is perfect. And complete. There is a glow that exudes from him, not unlike the glory one might envision of Moses coming down from the mountain. Joy. Peace. His eyes turns to a woman entering the small grove. Both naked, their gazes meet in perfect compassion, love, grace, and desire even, if necessary, to fully sacrifice for the other. Their gazes lack the gloss that comes over the eyes of people in my world as they suppress or, worse, conceal lust, greed, and selfishness.
Consciousness streams back. The lion remains, standing before me. New life flows through my veins. Yet the pain continues without mitigation. Slashing. Cutting. I turn and flee in miserable anguish only to find a trail of bloody scales marking the path from which I came. He cuts again. This deeper than the last, revealing, through the layers, a first sight of human flesh.
With the realization that the only true humanness in me has been deeply concealed comes the equally important understanding that I have not yet fully understood humanness. Standing in stark contrast to the man in the garden, my eyes are opened to the horror of what I really am. The dragon that always was. The lion pounces, tearing away more scales with his teeth to reveal a white stomach hidden since the garden. A rehabilitated criminal released from life in an 8x10 cell, I am freed into a new world that I cannot yet comprehend.
Taking my first steps from the cave, I am blinded by the great light hanging in the sky. I stare in wonder at its glory, while vainly grasping for more and more. Enraptured by this beautiful orb, fear invades. Fear that it may not be there tomorrow. I gasp deep breaths of air knowing that just as it is given so it can be taken away. Contrasting the stale, dead air of the cave, this is the air of freedom. Freedom from the shadows they think are reality in the depths of the cave I once called home. The cave I once called truth and beauty and reality. This new experience of true reality informs my soul. Never again will I trust the shadows of the cave.
I stand now before the lion, ready. Ready to learn to endure the pain. Yet, strangely, his eyes betray a smile. Another layer of truth penetrates my understanding as I recognize the deep warmth and love that greet me from the lion's eyes. Perhaps, on this side of eternity, I will never understand, or even experience, the full depths of the way he looks at me. But it is here, in his loving gaze, that I may share his joy. Not the smirk of an enemy pleasuring in my pain. But the smile of a wise father as his teary-eyed son, knees bloodied, falls into his arms. A knowing smile, he is well aware that the pain will make me a man.
He has more work to do. Tomorrow may yet be more painful than today. There are many scales that still remain. Lust of the eyes. Lust of the flesh. Pride of life. Weak and unworthy pleasures that bear empty promises of escape from the pain. Pleasures I formerly loved. Their power utterly confounded at the lion's bidding.
His pleasure is devastating. He is not safe, but he is good.
As war ravages an entire land, so it comes to me. Once free, peaceful, and full, now bearing the quality of emptiness. Void of people, crops, homes and laughter. Void of laughter. Laughter that may never return. All stolen. Hauled off under cover of the night shadows. A land that lies in darkness, empty as the starless night that now consumes it. A land that longs for the peaceful ignorance it once knew.
Denuded and ravaged. This work done by the hand a man cannot know by means of his own devices. A deeper work. More exacting. Aimed at completion. With inhuman precision, the claws dig deep. My chest opens wide, seared not by intense heat, but with an icy cold. The cold spreads through my body like leaven as the last warmth flows from the wound into a puddle around my feet.
With one last breath, a glimmering hope causes me to stare into wild eyes before me. Endless eyes. Eyes that reveal a torrential sea, vast and violent. Lightning flashes. Thrown to and fro, the dreadful power of the storm pushes and pulls at my body threatening to devour me. A brief window of composure permits the sight of approaching land. Land grows larger, more defined, until, at last, I enter a river.
Moving upstream, my body is hurled from rock to rock. The water’s force beats down, pounding me into submission. Onward and upward, a strange force draws me into the unknown. Curiously, I discover my complete lack of pain. I feel nothing despite the brute indifference of the storm. By way of the river, I am taken into what appears to be a garden.
It is here that I first see the sun in this new world. The storm, the rain, the thunder and lightning, and howling wind are gone. Not that they ceased, for something must exist in order to cease. They are no more, as though they never were. As though I simply awoke from a childhood nightmare full of those things I could not consciously conjure in my imagination nor recall upon waking.
Confusion, fear, and panic all subside as a peace unlike any other consumes my body. I bask in the sunshine that illuminates a cloudless sky. The river flows on and on surrounded by rolling hills and trees as far as the eye can see. Fruit trees of some kind I have not yet known. Trees scattered in a way wholly unlike the order a man would set an orchard, but ordered still. An order imposed by nature itself or, perhaps, a force greater than nature.
From the water I rise, carried by unseen hands into the center of a small grove of trees. I stand now before a man. Naked and unashamed, his eyes tell me that he has nothing to hide. He seems not to notice the invasion of the garden he tends. Through observation, I find that he is much like me, yet bears a strange, otherworldly quality. I wonder if I am still on earth or, perhaps, in a distant world yet to be tamed.
He is perfect. And complete. There is a glow that exudes from him, not unlike the glory one might envision of Moses coming down from the mountain. Joy. Peace. His eyes turns to a woman entering the small grove. Both naked, their gazes meet in perfect compassion, love, grace, and desire even, if necessary, to fully sacrifice for the other. Their gazes lack the gloss that comes over the eyes of people in my world as they suppress or, worse, conceal lust, greed, and selfishness.
Consciousness streams back. The lion remains, standing before me. New life flows through my veins. Yet the pain continues without mitigation. Slashing. Cutting. I turn and flee in miserable anguish only to find a trail of bloody scales marking the path from which I came. He cuts again. This deeper than the last, revealing, through the layers, a first sight of human flesh.
With the realization that the only true humanness in me has been deeply concealed comes the equally important understanding that I have not yet fully understood humanness. Standing in stark contrast to the man in the garden, my eyes are opened to the horror of what I really am. The dragon that always was. The lion pounces, tearing away more scales with his teeth to reveal a white stomach hidden since the garden. A rehabilitated criminal released from life in an 8x10 cell, I am freed into a new world that I cannot yet comprehend.
Taking my first steps from the cave, I am blinded by the great light hanging in the sky. I stare in wonder at its glory, while vainly grasping for more and more. Enraptured by this beautiful orb, fear invades. Fear that it may not be there tomorrow. I gasp deep breaths of air knowing that just as it is given so it can be taken away. Contrasting the stale, dead air of the cave, this is the air of freedom. Freedom from the shadows they think are reality in the depths of the cave I once called home. The cave I once called truth and beauty and reality. This new experience of true reality informs my soul. Never again will I trust the shadows of the cave.
I stand now before the lion, ready. Ready to learn to endure the pain. Yet, strangely, his eyes betray a smile. Another layer of truth penetrates my understanding as I recognize the deep warmth and love that greet me from the lion's eyes. Perhaps, on this side of eternity, I will never understand, or even experience, the full depths of the way he looks at me. But it is here, in his loving gaze, that I may share his joy. Not the smirk of an enemy pleasuring in my pain. But the smile of a wise father as his teary-eyed son, knees bloodied, falls into his arms. A knowing smile, he is well aware that the pain will make me a man.
He has more work to do. Tomorrow may yet be more painful than today. There are many scales that still remain. Lust of the eyes. Lust of the flesh. Pride of life. Weak and unworthy pleasures that bear empty promises of escape from the pain. Pleasures I formerly loved. Their power utterly confounded at the lion's bidding.
His pleasure is devastating. He is not safe, but he is good.
1 comment:
"Never again will I trust the shadows of the cave." Love that line!! I love knowing that as He tears away our sin, even though it can be excruciating, He's there to let us fall into His arms. He is good. So good.
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