by Cadie Laine
This is the rest of MY story
|Walking to bright light, a long table appears full of food and drink. He sets me on the floor as my eyes adjust to the light.
"What's this?" I look at him wide-eyed.
"Your dinner. Sit. Eat." Jesus says. I pull out a chair in front of me and sit scooting the chair up. Picking up the plate in front of me, I noticed it was exquisite China, the flower ring design around the outside with specks of gold in the vines is gorgeous. Setting it down carefully I lift the crystal goblet holding a clear liquid.
"Your favorite drink, non-alcoholic of course." I look at him a little skeptical. He nods as if to say try it. Putting the glass opening to my lips, the liquid turns to a brown liquid with an earthy, bitter, sweet taste.
"Sweet Tea, that's refreshing," I say finishing the glass. Setting it back on the table, it automatically refills this time with the brown liquid I can assume is more tea. Looking around the table all my favorite foods, broccoli and cheese, fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, baked ham and spaghetti and meatballs, salad, and garlic bread. The table is overloaded with everything I'll eat and then some.
"Everything looks delicious. Is it all for me?"
"Yes, this is your banquet table." He smiled broadly. I swallowed hard.
"All of this is for me!?" I squinted my eyes questioning.
"Yes, eat." I began to load my plate up with a little of everything. As I began eating I noticed Jesus was watching me just smiling some goofy grin.
"What?" I asked a piece of perfectly cooked and seasoned ham settling in my mouth.
"I'm proud of you." He shrugged. I continued eating. "I love you." I almost choked on the words. The other shoe had just dropped.
"You what?" Did I hear him right?
"I love you," he repeated. Yup, I heard him right.
"Look, I don't know you. You don't know me. How can you love me?"
"I've loved you before you were in your mother's womb. I know everything it took to get you on this earth."
"Wait, wait, wait. I will not be your slave." I stood pushing the chair back. "I am not owned by anyone. You do not own me." His flat smile revealed he knew more than I did. There was only one logical course of action.
"Take me back to my cell," I demanded.
"Why?" He seemed confused as he stood.
"Because I control my life and that's where I want to be." I wanted to bolt from the room but didn't know where I was or where I could have gone.
"But I pulled you from that life in your cell."
"I can take care of myself."
Jesus sighed defeated
"Why do you want to go back?" He pressed the question.
"Why do you care what I do?" I knew I sounded rebellious.
"Because I love you." He simply stated.
"Jesus, how can you love me? I sat in that cell for how long? How long did it take you to come get me? Why do you love me?" I began walking away.
"Child, I love you enough to die for you." He quietly spoke.
"Prove it." I turned. Strolling to me.
"I proved it in my death, burial, and resurrection."
"Come on, Jesus." A lump formed in my throat. "I know that. Maybe I've lost my awe and wonder of it but I also know beyond a shadow of a doubt that your love goes beyond that. Goes so much deeper." Her eyes rolled as she spoke. Tears threatened to roll down my cheeks. "I want you." I pleaded my chest and throat burned from the tears welling up.
"You want me? I fight for your mind every day. You fill it with things that don't always glorify me." His voice rose. "I want to teach you but your time is limited to a few songs and one scripture. If I'm lucky you write about meeting in my throne room. You refuse to get into my word. Why do you think that is?" My heart ached, I knew he was right about everything. How could I answer him? I bowed my head failing to swallow the tears that escaped my eyes. "Come here," gathering me in his arms, I wrapped mine around his waist. He held me as I sobbed. "I'm sorry, I've failed." Crying in his strong chest.
"Shh." We stood there for a few minutes as I released the pain and expectations I had placed on myself. His hands held my face, our eyes met, he wiped my cheeks dry. My breath hitched as I saw myself in His eyes and the depth of love he contained.
"You know the best way to know me is through my word." I nodded. "Do you trust me to teach you?" I nodded again. "So what's your reservation?" His hands dropped holding mine.
Taking a deep sigh to set myself up. "I don't trust myself. I stay with the few scriptures you've given me because I know I can stay within the I am a child box. I'm still learning all being a child is about."
"There's a never-ending well of information." His mood lightened as he smiled.
"Yes, and I want more, more information. Everything I get seems to be surface tension on an ocean. Even the pastors I listen to are not specific enough for me. It makes me wonder what they are feeding on."
"You know they have to feed more than you."
"I know. How can I show them the depth you've shown me? How can I encourage them the way you have me?"
"Keep seeking me for that answer. I'll show you." pausing. "You ready for your cell again?"
"Can we go look at it?" I smiled, almost making my decision.
We walked side by side down the hall to my dark cell. I stood at the door peering in. The walls were completely blank. The bricks smooth and without seeable blemish.
Gasping, "Wow! Are you sure this is mine?" I looked at him smiling.
"Do you want to go back in?" The darkness seemed to pull at me, making me frightened.
"I don't think so," I replied looking at him.
"Look again, then." His eyes twinkled as the room changed completely.
"This is one of the rooms in your mansion." Tears of joy suddenly leaked from my eyes. It was our room. A room I had forgotten about for a long time. A place where he and I had met a time or two. It was special just for me. He remembered. I beamed with a smile that seemed to encompass my face.
"Thank you," I whispered.
"I show you the details in nature and in the sky that others miss. I show you how you are free from your sin and how to walk that out. You have wanted to know how I love you deeper. This story is the way. Your throne rooms and the creative scripture stories I give you are ways I love you. I fight for you because you Cristen, are mine. Forever.
God doesn't want to just take care of what's plaguing you, he wants to take what's holding you back from your purpose.
(Your coffin) Luke 7:11-17