There are questions and loss in her eyes, and fabric tightly bound across her throat. “Why?” she asks. The question echoes in my own soul. Why? But she’s still garbed in white. She is His bride, and no one can take that from her. I saw in her, echoes, echoes of what she told me that late night. God, reach across the expanse and help her.
I read of mountain feats, dancing with death in the whiteness of wilderness. I wondered of the many that God allowed to fall. In that moment, did God breathe into their soul, “Are you ready for me yet?” And what was their answer? Only God knows. But others, God allowed to be caught and held. What were they seeking on those mountains? Did they go to meet with God?
Come to me, between the shadowy veils of green. Come into the coolness of the shade. There is beauty and safety and peace here, and the water is cool against my feet. I shake out my hair and play among the slick river rocks. Here is a periwinkle. There is a minnow. Here is a leaf drifting by. I do not know much. But I know I love you, and you love me, and you’re coming for me, though I do not yet see you.
His face is so stern. He is so wild. I’m nearly afraid, but more for those who would want to harm me. What would it have been like to meet Him? My Lord and Savior? It would have been terrifying to have Him in my house. His words bleed out in Scripture. His heart bleeds out on the page–for you, for me. He’s so terribly in love with us. Jesus, hold me in Your Arms.