‘You sit there,’ He says, as He points to a small grassy mound opposite Him. She makes her way there, and crouches down to sit on the earth. It’s nice here. Peaceful. Occasionally they both laugh at the dog as she blissfully runs around, unable to decide between land and water, which is better. Then growing bored, crouching down looking intently at Him… her way of demanding He throw her a stick.
Watching them together makes her smile. The beautiful bond. His dog adores Him like a God, and He cherishes her like His heart.
She can’t help but compare possibilities. The willingness He has to show her this. To open His heart in front of her like this. It touches somewhere. Stirs her soul. She can imagine loving Him. But can she imagine worshipping Him? These are the questions that have brought them to this place. Here and now.
‘What do you want?’ He asks. Frustrated.
This is not the first time she has been asked this. In fact, everything she hears from Him is not new. She knows He speaks a truth that many others have shared. She knows how frustrating she is to get to know. To penetrate. If only she knew how to change that, she would. But it’s just simply her, and no amount of anything seems to shift that.
This time though, she has a story.
She speaks to Him of a girl who holds pieces in her hands… and no matter how hard she tries, doesn’t know what to do with them. People come along and tell her what the pieces are, and she, seeing it too, tries harder. However, somehow she just can’t seem to make them all fit together. She wonders how it’s possible that she can’t decipher her own pieces. It’s heartbreaking and He sees her truth in this. She cries and gives Him her frustration and pain and confusion.
He sits with her and He listens.
He always listens.
The water running nearby is calming. The warmth of the sun is comforting. His presence is becoming familiar.
He sits with her and He talks.
She listens.
They come to a place of hearing each other. Understanding. Acceptance. Surrender.
It never occurred to her that it was necessary to surrender together, to that which they are trying to create. The space between them.
“I can’t give You promises,” she says sadly.
‘You are an abyss,’ He replies, bewildered.
They stand, and begin to walk. The day comes back. The sounds come back. The sunshine comes back. It’s a beautiful day.
