Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: LOVE (11/18/21)
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TITLE: Follow Me, Beloved | Previous Challenge Entry
By Patricia Turner
11/24/21 -
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ADD TO MY FAVORITES
Rising higher a mountain top is the crescendo surmounting my earthly valleys.
My pain is banished. I feel new and light, youth seeming to mend my bones.
My daughter’s face appears in the dream. I haven’t seen her in years.
“Mom?” She whispers it and I try to answer. Tears wet her cheeks. I don’t understand.
“You’re… Mom, I just wanted to tell you, finally, that you’re special.” She sobs. “I mean, to me you’re special. The times we fought.” Tiny waterfalls race down her cheeks. “The times I wished you would play with me. The shopping trips just didn’t make up for it. But then, I remembered how you helped me get my dog. All the trips we made just to find the right dog. Mom, I’m so sorry I haven’t been here for you. I got sucked into the whirlwind of my own busy life and whether consciously or otherwise, you retired to the back of my mind or the bottom of my priorities. I’m so sorry the last time I saw you was at Dad’s funeral.”
My son’s face appears.
“Hey Liz, trying to make up for…”
“She’s gone Will,” cries Liz as Will, tears racing down his cheeks comes to embrace her.
“I love you both so very, very much,” I try to say, even though I know they can’t hear me.
“But why can I hear them?”
“Of course you can hear them.” He says.
His tender voice, his beautiful face and the liveliness of his ever smiling eyes melt the pain as mist removes them from my sight.
“No, don’t go away,” I begin to cry.
He wipes the tears from my eyes. “You’re risen above all pain and regret, Melanie. Conditions I hoped but at the same time never meant you or anyone to experience. Follow me, beloved.”
I thought for a moment and couldn’t recall what those two words: pain and regret even meant.
I felt like air. Like I could fly. Like nothing mattered anymore. Just the one most important thing.
I walked in a new place, in the light of the Shekinah Glory of the one who had always carried me, and beside whom I now walked.
“What do you feel?” He asks.
No words came. All the shackles of earth gone and forgotten. Warmth and peace unimaginable in their place. The sweet scent of honeysuckles, roses, and magnolias overwhelmed my senses. Almond trees, magnolias, dogwoods, cherry, redbud, along with plum, apple and cherry trees burst suddenly into bloom, like millions of butterflies bursting forth synchronously.
“Beloved,” I thought. That’s what this was. I remember this feeling. Mark, my husband, holding me, feeling safe, resting in arms.
“Melly,” It’s Marks voice, his smile, his eyes, two sapphires, inviting me to play.
“Dance with me, my bride.”
“Is this Jesus, or is it Mark? Does it matter?” Just thoughts.
“Indeed, does it matter?” He sweeps me off my feet, off the cloud, lifting me once more to the top of the mountain.
“Welcome to the feast of the bridegroom,” he laughs, and it’s a triumph of joy.
“I know you’ve craved another taste of your grandfather’s peach ice cream, along with your gandmother’s peach cobbler.”
“From their own peach trees.” Another thought.
“Of course. Your grandfather tends the trees here.”
I smile. Yes, my grandfather's passion.
The table stretches to either side, much farther than I can see.
“Daddy, Mother!” I laugh exultantly, as we embrace.
“Susie!” My younger sister comes to embrace me and I am swallowed up in the laughter of her eyes.
My grandparents, aunts, uncles and two cousins come to kiss my cheeks.
We smile. We dance. Of course we do. Joy, peace and rest our music.
Other relatives, more distant, come with greetings, laughter and stories.
We feast together, new stories being told, old stories relished. My grandmother’s fried chicken and my father’s T-bone steaks melt with like meringue in our mouths. My mother’s German chocolate cake, her pecan pie. My aunt’s bread pudding, with cinnamon and vanilla, soaked in a touch of rum and sweet cream. Such devine memories. I let them flow over me, my palate exulting in pure delight.
The Lord’s table. My banquet. He’s my very precious Beloved. He’s my portion. He’s my King of Kings.
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