Here He is.
He is calling.
Many times,
Over,
Over,
Over again.
At first I could not hear it.
Silence reigned in the chasms of my heart. It has become a cavern of ice, a deadly place. Icicles of bitterness and pain threaten to break apart and injure any passerby brave enough to dare venture inside.
Even I am afraid to enter.
It is scary, a lonely place. Carved into the walls are broken words, desperate pleas for freedom.
Yet there is
silence.
Until one day.
One day threatens to change this place of death into one of.... some unknown, beautiful mystery.
I keep telling myself I am fine. Numbness has infected my soul, and rather than feel the stinging bite of icy pain, I turn to my defense mechanism, pretend it isn't there.
It works too, the lie... But I am past the point of pain. So close to the brink of despair, creeping ever nearer to a lonely, empty demise.
But today, though I have lost the will to fight, have become too weak in my quest to numb the pain,
He calls.
A distant cry, a heartfelt stirring that runs deeper than the poison seeping through my veins. A whisper nearer than my fading heartbeat.
"It is time."
All at once I hear it,
echoing
reverberating
in every tunnel, all my hiding spaces, filling every place so that I cannot run. No hiding from that voice that knows my soul better than even I am aware.
Though the voice seems foreign, two things are evident in the words spoken.
One: He knows me.
Two: He loves me.
In an instant I am shaken out of my reverie. Though my blood runs slowly and my body is weak from the hell of this self inflicted torment- I begin to stir.
And He is calling
"Wake up, my Darling."
"It is time."
Who am I to refuse such a Love that pierces into this hollow shell?
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
In
Out.
My soul begins to come to life. Words flood like oxygen to a drowning man, and I breathe them in.
Before I have to ask, He speaks them again.
"Come away with me, Beloved."
"It is time."
The truth of those words sinks in, melts through the ice. The frost, as though directed by its commanding officer, retreats. Up the dark walls, out from the crevices. The icicles do not fall, but rather melt down into puddles, streams, floods.
Through the windows of my soul they pour out, and for the first time in a long, long time-
I weep.
As the blood tingles and itches its way to clear out the cobwebs and numbness,
As my heart pumps faster and my breath comes easier,
I run.
So long have I been a lifeless shell, empty of all that would bring vibrancy, every bit of vivacious life. that it is not easy.
My clumsy feet stumble, unsure of themselves.
My legs wobble and falter, this new sensation of life a foreign concept.
Oh, but I run.
Faster than I thought possible.
Closer
Nearer
Desperate to approach
my Beloved.
Though they have been closed off, silent for so long, my lungs ache and my tongue dances, trying to find the words. What words could possibly bridge the gap, this distance of time and bitterness?
I do not know the way.
There is no map to guide me, no road to follow,
only that voice that sings with Truth.
And all the words my tongue can form are the only ones I need.
Come find me.
My weary, worn down soul aches in agreement with the cry of Him who seeks me and I whisper with what strength I have:
"It is time."
