I was a little wretch when He found me, lying in my own filth on the streets, selling pamphlets on “How to Get into the Kingdom of Heaven Unnoticed.” It was Love-Before-The-Foundations-Of-The-World when our eyes met, but only for Him. I was quite content to be alone.
I had ignored Him for some time before He gently took the scales from my eyes let me see my own disgusting condition. And oh, I hated myself then. It was revolting. I hated my skin, I hated my shriveled hands, I hated my pamphlets. He smiled, painfully, and I looked up.
“Why are You still here?” I grumbled, vainly smoothing what was left of my golden hair.
“Because you are Mine.” He replied.
I caught the glint of His eyes, and the curve of His smile. And things that had once been disgusting to me suddenly became overwhelming in my new Sight. His Holiness was the sunlight, and His Purity was a wide open field full of violets.
And oh, my heart was beating wildly. But I did not know what to do with that much desire.
It had always been Self-Love or Worldly Fantasies for me, which were both faithless lovers. Self-Love’s touch was like cold ice, and he only ever talked about himself. Worldly Fantasies had an awful stench. The only way I could stand it was by looking at the money he gave me, hidden away in my hand. I knew I wouldn’t starve on that.
This wonderful, beautiful King in Who’s service I had always pretended to belong.
I Loved Him, suddenly and terribly and completely. I even stood up to go with Him, Wherever He was going. But I had forgotten myself, and when I ran towards Him I was suddenly thrown back by a weight around my ankle.
“I’m sorry, Sir.” I cringed, feeling the blood begin to trickle down. “But I have sold myself completely to my old Father (The Father of Lies) to pay the rent. I wish You had come sooner…I’ve been working on Your corner for some time now. But perhaps You did not see me. I am easily overlooked.”
I looked down at that ball and chain, the one I had never seemed to notice before, and my knees buckled on the suddenly growing weight. I despaired in my heart, wondering why He had opened my eyes if I could not go with Him. That was a cruel trick. But He leaned forward.
“All that the Father gives Me will come to Me, and the one who comes to Me I will by no means cast out.” He whispered, running His hand along my ankle until It came to the chain.
I was trembling, realizing how close He was. I could hear His Heartbeat, pounding like some distant, beautiful music from a far off country. And I wanted Him so badly that my own heartbeat was loud and shaky in my ears.
But in the moment that I had realized my own dirtiness, in the moment I had realized how much I wanted Him, I realized how completely different we were. And I could never, never in my wildest dreams, be anything desirable enough for Him to want me back. I would try to ease the pain for both of us. (Oh, I ache at the foolishness.)
“Please, Sir. Now that I think about it, I do not think I’ll be able to make the Journey with You. I do want to go. You…You must know that I do. But it’s too far. And Sir, I fear You will grow tired of me before the end.” The last part came out with a little, fearful laugh.
But He did not laugh.
Perhaps we both knew the utter pain of faithlessness, though I chose to laugh at it while He had no fear, and thus no reason to hide anything.
“I am not asking, My Beloved. You want to go, and you will go. Because I have come to Take you. And those I have chosen will never be left behind. I will make you able.”
His hands curled around the chain, the thick, thick chain that had been painstakingly put together by myself and my fathers and my father’s fathers. The blood was pouring from His hands, and the sweat on His forehead seemed like little pinpricks of blood, as if He had been pierced by many thorns. But the chain broke asunder, with a flash of pain and light.
I heard a noise like a terrified Scream, and the distant cursing of my old Father. He had been listening. He had hated me, as I had hated him. But I knew that he would hate the money he received for me even more, as it lingered like a testament to his failure.
I was free.
I fell into His arms like a wounded bird that has found it’s home, and He held me so tightly that our hearts nearly touched through our skin. It seemed like a thousand years, and it seemed like an instant. I Loved Him. And it was a pure, beautiful Love that I had been incapable of only moments before, only brought on by being bought out. He had birthed it in me. And that was the best gift of all.
“Let’s leave this Place.” My Beloved whispered.
And we did.