October 10, 2024 | By Magdalena Daley | In Faith
Someone was watching her. She could feel it.
This invisible companion.
This presence in the room.
It didn’t bring discomfort.
It just kind of unsettled her.
What would she do with it?
Should she address it?
Or keep ignoring it?
Sometimes it tugged on her heartstrings
with a wooing hunger she didn’t know where it came from,
like a deep call from a larger reality.
She was scared of taking that first step,
engaging in a conversation with the invisible.
What would be the consequences?
Was she ready for the unknown?
Maybe she could approach slowly and engage gradually?
But she had a feeling this being was not interested in small talk.
She knew that if she chose to engage, that was a road of no return.
She could feel the power and heat emanating in the room.
Still, she was hesitating.
What was she holding on to?
The soiled safety blanket of her soul.
She held onto it for dear life.
She was shivering, barefoot,
trying to cover herself in her little tear-filled, snotty security blanket
that barely covered her heaving chest and her trembling chin.
Then he held out a banner over her.
He had the appearance of a victorious king, coming from a battle.
He was offering her the mantle of the Milky Way,
the blanket of galaxies of unending love, endless possibilities.
The banner was flapping in the wind.
It filled up the whole sky.
She could see no end to His banner of love.
It was like a winding road through the sky,
like a rushing river of red silk.
So unlike the lovey she still held on to.
But she just wouldn’t let go.
His banner made a loud noise in the wind,
a gigantic sail, ready to take off to far away shores
and unexplored territories.
She could feel the compelling draw like a tidal wave,
an undercurrent, pulling her bare feet out into the deep.
Still, she was wrestling.
She looked down on her hard clenched fists.
White knuckles grasping so hard to this childish remnant of self-soothing.
Why was it so hard to let go?
Why was it so hard to trust?
Why did he let her wrestle for so long?
He just wouldn’t open her closed hands for her.
She had to do it.
She had to let go.
Herself.
Of herself.
She had to let go of the song she’d been singing for so long.
“Mine, mine, mine”
It echoed through the universe.
It was a filthy rag but It was her safety zone.
At least she was her own.
But he kept coming back.
He went in circles around her.
Her heart began to soften.
A decision started to form in her heart.
“If only I could touch his garment”.
I’ll let go of my little lovey, for the Greater Love.
I’ll grab hold of his mantle.
I will let his blanket cover me. I’ll say with Ruth:
“Your people will be my people. Your God will be my God.”
You have my yes.
Although weak and shivering. My hands are open.
I’m not mine, but yours.