“No,” My honestly surprises even me. “But if you believe it is time, Papa, then I will.” Perhaps I am learning something.
“Come then.” He bids me stand at the water’s edge. In the still water I see my reflection an His. Gently, He opens my robe allowing me to see the wounds in the reflection. The injuries are brutal and threaten to overwhelm me, but I see Him in the reflection as well, making it bearable. The gashes look as though a great cat, a lion perhaps, has raked its claws across my belly, not just once, but several times. The lesions are deep, I wonder that the pain is not greater.
“My salve is still upon you and you are still walking in the numbness of old. Many function with such wounds. I want you to see these so that you will recognize he in others, so that you can bring the same healing you receive to others.” With a firm hand, He closes the robes and fastens them shut with the belt. “They must remain covered lest the flies come.”
“I thought they were gone.”
“Largely that is true, but they are always around, it only takes one to cause great damage.” He turns me to face Him now. “Do not allow doubt to spring up I you. I want to raise you to a new level of trust in my, no longer trusting in yourself but in what I have told you, in who I am and who I have raised you to be.”
“You make it sound so simple.” I reply ruefully.
Tenderly, He presses His hand to my cheek. I drink in this tenderness. He gently kisses my forehead and draws me into His embrace.
“I love you Papa,” I whisper. He just holds me.
Finally, He says, “Let’s return to the tree, we cannot begin the healing process here.”
As we walk I feel emboldened to speak from my heart. “Papa, I do not understand something. I am not afraid now. Other times when you have lead me to face something I have been afraid, even though You have been with me. But now I am not, why?”
“You are still numb. It is difficult for you to feel anything about this right now.” There is no condemnation in His tone, only explanation.
As we enter the shady grove, I see a place set with water and meat. “Come sit and eat.”
Suddenly I recognize the hunger gnawing at me. As I eat He begins to show me truths I have not understood.
Eph 1: 3. Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! He has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly realm,
4. just as he chose us in him before the foundation of the world to be holy and blameless in his presence. In love
5. he predestined us for adoption to himself through Jesus Christ, according to the pleasure of his will,
6. so that we would praise his glorious grace that he gave us in the Beloved One.
7. In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our offenses, according to the riches of God's grace
8. that he lavished on us, along with all wisdom and understanding,
9. when he made known to us the secret of his will. This was according to his plan that he set forth in Christ
He shows me that I am chosen. He has predestined my effectiveness. I am not chosen because of anything I have done, but because of what Christ has done. He is pleased with His choices. His choices were made with full understanding of everything that would be.
Ringing in my ears over and over I hear ‘I am chosen’. He actually chose me! And understanding and faith that I never before knew begins to dawn. He chose me!
I see Him smile and nod at me. “Yes I have,” He says without recrimination of my slowness to believe. I feel a heaviness leave me, at least in part.
“Come, look at your wounds now.” He instructs, beckoning me to Him. He opens my robe to reveal my wounds. But they have changed now. They are cleaned, no longer full of debris and infection. The actually seem to be healing. I wonder that a meal alone could do this.
“Meat is very powerful.” He answers, closing by robe once again. “The wounds must remain open for now so that they might heal from the inside out. If they are closed now, they are likely to infect. But they must be protected.” He places a vest around me. The back is soft white wool, the front is heavy white leather. He laces the vest securely around me, protecting the open wounds I still bear. The vest strengthens me, supports me, like the old bandages did. But with this I can heal.
“Thank you, Papa,” I whisper, still surprised. I did not know what to expect, but certainly this was not it.
“Come, let us return to the castle. It is time to clean out the kitchen.”