Darkness. As my eyes
flutter open, it’s all I see. I try to
lick my lips, but they crack and split when I open my mouth. Though I can’t see the chains attached to my
wrists, I can feel their strain. My
shoulders are numb from my arms being held above my head for weeks. The outward pull of the iron shackles has
rubbed my wrists raw, in some places, I’m sure, to the bone. Caused by both the constant pain and the
putrid smells of this dungeon, my constant companion of nausea rears its ugly
head as my body comes fully awake. I
lean my head back against the heavy stone wall and stare upward into the
blackness. Outside the birds start to
sing; dawn will come soon in the outside world, but not here. Here it is always dark. As I sit in my cold, damp cell, I think again
of the things that brought me here, as I do every day.
I lived in this prison once before, but I escaped. A man set me free. He told me he’d paid my debt, and I was free
to go. For a while it was perfect. We spent every waking moment together. All I wanted to do was serve him and do
whatever he wanted. But then I made a
mistake. I tried to fix it, tried to
make it up to him, but things just weren’t the same anymore. We didn’t have as much time with each other
anymore, and I always felt like he was disappointed with me. I decided to leave for a day. Maybe if I took some time away we would be
able to reconcile. But that only made
things worse. Still, it seemed like the
only way to escape the endless shame I felt in his presence, so I left even
more.
One day I messed up, like I really messed up. I wanted to tell him, ask for his help, but I
felt like he’d only give me that look that says, “Why can’t you get anything
right anymore?” So I tried to fix it
myself again, but I only exacerbated the issue.
Before I knew it, I was back in this cell again, serving time for my
mistakes. I’m afraid my relationship
with the man who freed me last time is ruined; he’ll never come back to save me
again. I’m not worth it.
A tear trickles down my cheek, followed by another. How had it come to this? Why had I forsaken the love I had
before? Why couldn’t I have just done
the things I knew I needed to? I’m so
frustrated with myself. “I’m sorry!” I
yell out, and the empty prison chambers echo the mournful call. But I know it’s too late. I know there’s no use in wishing for
rescue. I’m stuck here forever, trapped
by my own mistakes and problems. Even if
I somehow escaped, I’d only come right back.
My failures have overtaken me; there is no escape from them any more
than there is this cell.
I see a light shining down the hallway, but no, I must be
imagining it; there is only ever darkness here.
I hang my head and close my eyes, blocking out the illusion. “My love!” I hear. I furrow my eyebrows. There are never any sounds here besides my
own either. What was happening to
me? Had my grief caused my mind to drift
into madness? “My love, where are
you?” The voice is familiar, but I dare
not try to place it. I can’t handle any
more memories tonight.
“Why won’t you answer me?
I’m here to rescue you!” I open
my eyes. The light is brighter now. What if it’s not a mirage? What if there is a chance that someone had
come to save me? Part of me wants to
dare to hope, but the other chunk says the pain of rejection isn’t worth
believing. The battle wages on in my
mind as I try to come to a decision.
Eventually the hopeful piece wins out by a hair. I venture a small whisper, “Hello?” The light brightens even further, nearly
blinding me. A man enters the hall, and
I finally recognize the voice. It’s the
same man who released me the last time.
“No!” I cry. “Go away! I’m not worthy of your gifts, your love!”
The man stops at the door of my cell. “No,” he says, “you’re not.”
That’s it, he said it.
I was right all along. He only
came to rub it in my face. Maybe he
found another person to love, one who won’t mess up, and he’s come to brag.
“But I’m here to free you anyway.”
The words stop me in my tracks. My brain freezes, unable to continue its line
of thought. A question rises to my lips,
“Why?” He pauses before he speaks again,
and a look of pain is etched on his face.
He’s disappointed in me again.
I’ll never get it right.
“Because I love you.
Don’t you understand that yet?”
Loves me. No, loved me. Before I messed up again, before I ruined
what we had. There’s no way he can love
me now. And there’s no way he’ll ever
pay my debt again, not after what I did to him.
“You’re wrong,” he says simply, as if he can read my mind.
“You can’t pay my debt this time,” I say. “I won’t let you go through that again, not
for me.”
“I don’t have to.”
What? Of course he
had to. That is, if he really did want
me to be free again.
“I paid for it all last time. I knew what you would do, and I covered that
when I set you free the first time. You
are the only person keeping you here.”
It’s at this moment that I realize for the first time that
the door to my cell is open. Hadn’t it
been shut before? It had been so dark,
but it must have been closed. I shift my
weight and remember my painful bonds.
Those weren’t free. I glance up
at my right hand. The shackle is open,
but my wrist is slipped into it anyway.
“I don’t understand,” I say in disbelief. What is going on?
“You put yourself here,” he said.
Memories come flooding back.
That day weeks ago when I had messed up so badly, I’d come back to the
prison. I remembered the way well. There had been no jailer, and I had walked
inside the cold dungeon. I found my
cell, the place I’d spent so many long years.
The door had been open, and the shackles still hung on the wall. I placed my wrists in the metal’s cold
embrace and sat down. I’d deserved
it. I needed to be punished for what I’d
done. “There wasn’t a guard when I came
back,” I said.
“Because your sentence is carried out. There is no need for punishment anymore,” he
says.
My mind is reeling as the thoughts pour over me. “But how… why? I don’t understand.”
“I love you,” he says again, and this time it seems to have
more meaning. “I would pay any price to
have you.”
“How could you love me? I broke your heart, disappointed you, left
you, you can’t love me.”
Now he walks inside my cell and bends down so he’s looking
me in the eyes. “I’ll always love
you. It doesn’t matter what you’ve done
or will do. I will always come for you,
no matter where you run or try to hide.
I will never be disappointed in you; you are my precious one, my
treasure.”
I want to believe it, want to trust that he really does
still love me, will always love me, but I don’t know if I can. Is it worth the risk? I remember the look he gave me earlier when I
asked why he would come back. He’d been
disappointed then. I drop my chin and
stare at the ground.
“Sometimes I hurt for you,” he says, reading my mind once
more. “But that doesn’t mean I am
disappointed. I know the pain you are
caused when you stray from me, and I don’t want that for you. But you will never disappoint me. You are my delight.”
He lifts my chin with a tender hand and stares into my
eyes. There is such love there, such
compassion. My heart is overwhelmed by
the sight. I know it’s all true. He loves me.
He’s come to rescue me from my stupid self. He loves me!
Tears start to flow, but they are no longer tears of sorrow; they are
pure joy pouring from my eyes. My lips
part in a wide smile, and the bleeding cracks are no longer there. He lifts me to my feet and gently pulls my
arms from the chains.
“You are free,” he says, “don’t live as though you are
not.” He wraps me in a hug and holds me until
I believe in the depths of my being that this love is real and it will never
end. As he releases me, he finds my hand
and holds it tight. “Let’s go home,” he
whispers in my ear. I lean my head upon
his shoulder, and we walk out into the sunlight, leaving behind my prison bars.
This story was inspired by a poem I wrote two years ago and
a message/book by John Lynch (the book is called The Cure). Here’s the poem.
My
sin was once a cripp'ling weight
That
kept me from your love.
This
prison's shackles held me tight;
I had
no will to run.
When
darkest night seemed all there was
And
sin, my master, pressed me down,
A
light shone through my prison bars;
Your
voice came calling down the halls.
"Why
do you keep these chains that bind?
Life's
pleasures are but fleeting things.
My
gift has saved you from this cage,
My
blood has crushed these bonds from Hell.”
Had I
bound myself again?
Had
my own hands reclasped these irons?
No
longer will I stay confined;
Your
grace has cut me loose again.
Now I
am free to feel Your love.
My
eyes are clear to see Your hand.
I've
left my chains; they're crushed to dust.
Your
name I'll praise forevermore.
