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She enters deep into herself and suddenly, I am given life. I wasn’t and now, I am. Or perhaps I existed somewhere and she has gone to that place to unearth me. Yes, she has found the tiny embryonic being that is me and begins to shape me.
Names demand her attention. ‘Eartha.’ She grabs it with one hand turns it over.
Her voice is clear. Too old fashioned.
Discards it.
Names stream passed painfully buffeting, shouting. Despite the discomfort I wait patiently.
‘Gabi! Gabi!’
Yes. I would like to be called Gabi.
She leaves for a while. When she reenters the place I inhabit, I am Gabi. Hero of God.
Over time, and under her skillful hands, I move from the shadow of nothing to the reality of a fully fleshed person. She enlivens. Gives me motivation. Puts words in my mouth. Provokes my actions.
I begin to understand her. I know when she returns to her world of flesh and blood how she longs to be with me, fleshing me out.
There are times when I hate her, when I resist her as she leads me through dangerous places and I am made to suffer.
I stand back in awe and amazement as she weeps for me – her creation, her creature. ‘Why?’
She wipes a tear from her eyes. I must take you through the shadow of the valley of death. You must be tested in the fires of life. You must face conflict and disaster just as we do, to be real.
One day she joins me in that special place. I can tell, as she draws the threads of my life together, that she has a predetermined pathway for me and it feels wrong. I wrench the idea from her and march boldly across her page.
‘No!’
She regains control and relentlessly pounds out the details of my life. I buckle and twist. I know myself so well now. I know what I will do and say. But she does not trust me.
Ultimately she does not trust herself.
She leaves and yet I grow inside her. I know she can’t stop thinking about me. She ponders the outcome of our last encounter and when she returns she is almost apologetic.
When will I learn that there comes a time when you take on a life of your own? When I have to listen to you rather than control you? Where do you come from? Why you? Why have I created you?
She can barely keep from spending time with me.
Now I am not just in that special place she visits to wrestle with me. I eavesdrop on her flesh and blood living.
‘For goodness sake! You spend more time thinking about your precious Gabi than you do about me!’
‘I can’t help it. The ideas are falling over each other. I have to get them out. Down. Or I will burst. You know that about me. You know that’s how I am. I can’t change the way I’ve been wired.’
Burdened with unnecessary guilt she returns. Together we enter that place where I was born and am nurtured.
Oh, Gabi. The worst is yet to come. Can you face it? Can I bear to put you through it? Is it worth it?
Why does he have to be so awkward?
But we have come so far, you and I and I sense the end is near.
We face off for a long time before we return tentatively to the journey she launched me on.
Gradually she regains her courage and her vision.
She subjects me to the most harrowing experiences. Yet, when I come through, I see that I am enlarged. I am better equipped for the next experience, whatever that might be. I never, ever want them to stop. I want her to stay with me always. I don’t want this to end.
There comes a day when she writes THE END.
She no longer enters that special place to explore my world.
I grieve because all the work and effort seems to be such a waste of time.
Time.
I no longer have a concept of time. I don’t know how much time has passed.
Days.
Weeks.
Years.
One day I find myself in someone else’s mind. Someone is reading my story. They journey with me. Laughing and crying and learning along with me.
I realize that to create me she entered the heart of eternity, to help her people find Eternity.
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