Tuesday, 10 June 2008
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A short story...
I wrote a short story in an attempt to illustrate God's forgiveness, grace, mercy, and love for us. Reading it over again, I can see that it doesn't adequately capture the extent of His love at all. But I hope you enjoy reading it!
"This is my gift. My dear daughter, I will put it on this stand. Once I bring you across this step, you may open it. It will be yours. But wait.”
And with these tantalizing words, he left me. I don’t know how it happened. For a fleeting moment, the sunny skies were covered with a shadow. As quickly as it came, it was gone. However, that second had been long enough for a voice to nudge my heart. “Cross the step,” it whispered, “Surely, what’s good then will be just as good now.”
My heart skipped a beat, but I brushed it away. I glanced around to see if anyone else had seen that wicked thought, as a faint blush spread over my cheeks. The horror of having entertained such a disobedient notion shamed me. I quickly turned away from that gift just out of reach to go back to my usual day. But as I left, I turned back for one small glance…
The next day, I went back out. The day was sunny, again, as were my thoughts. Through my quiet work I went, happily, though it seemed as though something were clouding me. A tiny part of my heart seemed to have been made cold. Suddenly, the cloud came again, this time staying longer than the first. “Cross the step,” it whispered again, “No one will ever know but you and me.”
I quickly responded, “No, I mustn’t. I was told not to.”
“No one will ever know…”
The cloud was gone. Now quite ill at ease, the sun didn’t seem to have its usual warmth. I rubbed my arms and glanced toward the center of the garden. There it was—sitting on the stand, shining with a light of its own. What a beautiful package! How lovely it did look! Perhaps… but no. I couldn’t even consider that! Again, I turned and walked away. As I glanced back, my eyes rested longer on that mysterious package…
“Father,” I begged that night, “What’s in the package? Why must it be such a mystery? Can’t I just open it a teensy bit for myself and see what it’s like?”
“Daughter, you must trust me.” He responded, voice grave, “This gift is a treasure that you do not yet know how to use. I can tell you how to use it and grant you that knowledge now, but it will not be your own. I must command you to wait, daughter, or else you’ll never be able to appreciate the gift in full.”
Resentment flitted through my heart, my rebellion began to grow.
Slowly, slowly, day by day, I walked closer and closer to that gift. Until one day, I thought I was alone. Father was in the house. Like the voice had said, no one would ever know. I crept up past the step, and felt a slight pang of guilt. Quickly, I quieted that feeling with assurances that Father didn’t know what it was like to have to wait and couldn’t possibly know what was best for me. I opened the wrapping a tiny bit, just enough to afford a little peek. What I saw dazzled me, and I quickly unwrapped a bit more. Bit by bit, little by little, the gift was unwrapped and that precious treasure lay open in my hands. Funny, some of the light seemed to have disappeared as I held it up to examine it. What was it for? How was it to be used? How could I ever know? Suddenly, it struck me that I hadn’t yet learned how to use this. I hadn’t grown enough to know what this was for. Oh if only I had waited, then I would know what this was and how it’s purpose!
I heard a step on the lawn and sprang to my feet. The treasure, which had been on my lap, fell to the ground and shattered. My father, whose steps they had been, gravely shook his head as he looked at me. “I told you to wait. I told you to trust. Could you not have done that?”
As I cried, the cloud returned and roared a menacing laugh. “I told the girl to do it. I’ve won! You thought that you could keep her safe, well! She failed your test didn’t she? She’s mine.” A face developed and, sneering at me, he gloated, “You failed. You utter miserable failure. Such a simple command and you couldn’t even keep that. What do you think you’ll be able to do when entrusted with anything else? Well, I can tell you that you won’t! You’ve failed. And you’ll be in my power.
“Don’t you know the wages of sin? DEATH! But before that, torture. I will starve you and beat you. I will hold your sin to your face so that you will never forget. I will see to it that it clouds every moment of your life so that you will never forget how much you have failed.
“Utter miserable failure. You aren’t worthy of anything but death. An irreplaceable treasure must now be replaced through a lifetime of torture and labor—leading to death. You can’t escape me.
“Don’t bother telling yourself that other people have gone through worse. Don’t bother telling yourself that it really wasn’t all that bad. It doesn’t make any difference. Once you’re in my grasp, you can’t get out. I can take you through great sin or small. I will never let you forget.
“You will never have that gift again. You will never be able to find a treasure quite like it. You have failed. You will never be whole. You will never be able to fix this!”
As I crumpled, weeping on the floor, the sinister laughter suddenly stopped. The dark cloud began to lift as my father lifted me up and wiped my face. “Daughter, don’t listen to those lies. You are my child. Never forget that you’ve been purchased with a price. Never forget the price at which you have been bought. That is the most precious treasure that I have ever given you, and none can take it away.
“I have forgiven you. I am your Father and I love you. That will never change, no matter what you do.
“However, the treasure has been broken. Daughter, you are forgiven. But you must pay the consequences. When the day is right, you shall have another. And when the time is right, you shall know the purpose of this treasure and how to use it. However, on that day, you will remember this treasure that lies in shreds at our feet. This broken left-over of a treasure will be part of you forever.
“Daughter, remember that, though you must shoulder the consequences of the sin, you do not bear the punishment. You must suffer through the side-effects—the guilt, shame, and the knowledge that there will never be another gift quite the same to replace this. But you do not bear the punishment. You are not the one who will be tortured and killed. You have been forgiven. That burden is taken off your shoulders. So rest, my daughter. Rest.”
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