I am torn in two. In my chest I feel the terrifying pull of Love calling me out of the shadows, and in my ear fear screams at me from my nightmare.
Maybe life is not so bad in my dark little cage. I get what I want, pretty much. The food is passable, and Iíve learned to satisfy my lusts, somewhat. Suffering will be no worse if I say ďNoĒ and choose not to dash from here to there. Besides, there is a fearful cliff outside my cage door, and the chasm below is deep and deadly.
But that light! Life is so much more comfortable in-between darkness and twilight. In the light everything I am and do will be exposed and open to investigation. Love will know my hates, nightmares, and perversions. . I will never be allowed to stay in the light if what I really like to do in the darkness is discovered. Love canít be that forgiving.
If I dash maybe I can escape the beatings. Not likely since my wounds are self inflicted and I canít flee from myself. Maybe Love will take the club from my hand, but it certainly canít heal my open sores and deep blue bruises. I deserve the beatings for what I have done. Love canít be that merciful.
I know escape must take a jolt and then a dash because the arms that hold me here are strong and the door may not be open long.
So I shall go, or not. I shall forsake my comfortable nightmare for the uncertain daylight and peace, or not. I have to make a decision since I now know there is a choice; escape or stay in the cage. Iím up. Iím down. I take a step toward the door. I shrink back. I call out for help, but my cries for help are drowned out by the screaming all around me.
ďGod help me! I canít surrender!Ē
I am your soul. I caretake passions, regulate anger and love. I pastor creative design and unleash careless desire. The mind obeys me, and the heart is my slave. Eat, lust, hate, or feel nothing at all, I control the output. If this body had a spirit I would be wielding it like a sword against my enemies and presenting it like a bouquet of roses to my lovers. In my cage I am in control, the master of my destiny, and king of action. Why should I give away my power just to live in a larger cage?
But Love calls.
So I push myself off the filthy cage floor, lunge for the door, and begin to run.
The cage door is behind me, and Iím in full stride on air and then on a bridge that has suddenly forms under me. I run with my eyes tightly closed and my arms out in front of me. I begin to stumble more than run, screaming my fear and my need to the Love that I beg to wait for me. I canít hear the screams behind me anymore. Desperation has taken over, shutting out everything but the call of Love.
I stop at the edge of Loveís reach. In a moment of mad immodesty I expose it all, pouring out the bitterness and the gall, and confessing my depravity and perverse thoughts and actions. I am undone, unwound, and empty. Certainly now that it knows all I that am Love will not accept me. I am such a fool.
Love takes a step toward me and I am instantly lost in His embrace. The last of my resistance disarms in His presence, and my self will is dethroned. Love takes the club from my hands. I am Loveís slave. He pours oil on my wounds. I am loveís child, again.
I, your soul, answered Loveís call out of your insane hunger for escape. I knew the least we could expect was punishment. You came by grace and mercy with no guarantee of entry into His kingdom. But He has fallen on your neck, wept joyous tears, put his robe on your neck and ring on your finger. Tonight new wine will be plentiful and the fatted calf will be eaten.
Father will celebrate. His son has come home, and a soul has been saved.
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