First posted on my Myspace page, 2010 ~ The Journey ~ part 1 ~
NOTE re images in this story: NOT my photos... Images are originally from Photobucket.
The Journey ~ pt1
© Donna Keevers Driver
She wandered aimlessly along the Path of Brokenness, longing for the feel of sunlight on her skin once more. It had been hours - nay, days since she had last seen daylight. She missed the warmth. She missed the beauty sunlight exalted. She missed...life...
Life. Life...? That sounded so foreign to her of late: Life... What did she do in her previous life? What was life used for? And did she really need it now...?
Darkness kissed the ground before her, the only light being that which her eyes had produced once they had become accustom to the night.
Night? Was it still night? How could it still be night if she had been walking for days...? It didn't make sense. Actually, very little made sense these days. Like the echo of the wind as it played in the distance, yet, if there were any wind here - any air at all, for that matter - she couldn't feel it. She couldn't even inhale it. But, if she couldn't breathe, how was she alive...? Was she alive? Was this the Life she had been seeking? Was this living?
A tapping of little feet - clawed feet upon rocky ground, was what it sounded like - danced in the distance, somewhere in the depths of darkness, momentarily drawing her attention. For one fleeting moment, she desired to run after it, longing to laugh and play, but the airless world around her grew cold and she returned to her previous mode, wrapping a wall of woe about her heart in order to protect it from outside forces.
She walked on, with head lowered, appearing to guard herself from an icy cold wind that was not there. Pushing into the darkness, it felt as though each step took a lifetime to form... And there it was again: Life. Why did Life keep presenting itself to her? Obviously it had no place, no worth, where she was now.
Stopping abruptly, she looked around, the shadows of blackness darker than ever. Where exactly was she, anyway...?
A whisper, ever so faint, drifted through the night, calling someone to follow it. But who the person was that it called to, and where it wanted them to go, she could not tell. She shook her head, figuring no one called to her. Besides, she already knew where she was going. Her path had been set before her and she was more than willing to follow it. She was on the Path of Brokenness and no one, or no thing was going to lead her from it.
It was as determination gripped her soul, that she noticed a small, shimmering light to the side of the path. It was only a tiny light, smaller than that of a candle, possibly the size and brightness of a firefly, and as it fluttered it stirred to wake her curiosity and she hurried to it..
Kneeling before it, she hesitated to touch the light, fearing such an action would cause it to fly away. But the temptation to touch grew stronger and she couldn't help but try...
To her relief, the light did not fly away, nor did it fade. Rather, it seemed to grow at the pressure of her touch. The more pressure she added to the light, the brighter it grew. She only dared to touch it for a moment, for as the power of the light increased, her eyes started to ache, for they had become accustomed to the darkness. The light was not as attractive as she remembered it.
There, in the glow of the light, was a handle. What it was attached to, she did not know. The light blinded her to it. Following an urge, she slipped her fingers about the handle and tightened her grip. It felt cold to touch, but it fit oh-so comfortably in her hand, so much so that she smiled with delight.
She tugged at it. But it did not move. She tugged again. Nothing... Still nothing. Annoyance leaned heavily upon her shoulders, whispering a honed curse. "Tug harder. It's your's..." Anger hissed. "Take it, damn it! Take it!!!"
With one mighty heave, she released it from its stubborn grip, laughing as she fell backwards onto the Path of Brokenness, the jagged stones beneath her leaving their mark in her tender flesh. In no way was she perturbed by the sudden pain in her buttocks, for the joy of possessing the handle and whatever it was attached to numbed all other senses.
"It's a bag," she joyfully declared. "Of course it would be a bag. What else would possess such a handle!" She didn't bother to see what was inside of it, she was just so happy to possess it; to have something to call her own.
Dusting off her long skirts, she rose to her bare feet and propped the bag over one shoulder. It was a fairly heavy bag, she noted, but, still, it was hers now and she wasn't about to let the weight of it stop her from taking it.
Once more a whisper on the wind came. This time, she heard it say, "I will carry it for you..."
Anger clawed at her face, pressing heavily upon her brow and tightly gripping her jaw, all the while demanding she trust no one. "This is my bag," she growled. "You cannot have it." Stubbornly, she marched on, determined to keep the bag close to her chest, bound tightly in her arms as she made her way through the darkness. Anger never leaving her side.. "No one gets my bag. No one! I went through a lot to get this bag. I don't care how heavy it is, no one else gets their hands on it!"
And on she walked, fending off the misery brought on by the weight of the bag, with Selfishness and Stubbornness rushing to help her.
~ Part 2 ~
(first posted on Myspace ~ The Journey ~ part 2 ~ )
It was the scent of something quite familiar, yet, at the same time, totally unidentifable that called for her attention. She followed its trail, curiousity guiding each step. The bag weighed heavily upon her shoulder, causing her back to ache, but she refused to rest until that which produced the sweet scent made itself known. Her tongue watered with anticipation.
"You don't need it..." came the whisper on the wind. But she did not heed the faceless voice. Longing called loud and clear, almost startling her senses, wooing her with its sweet scent, and, for now, that was all that mattered to her.
It seemed as though an eternity had passed before she reached a place where rest could finally be found - a place where desire and satisfaction teased and tempted one another. There, in the midst of the darkness, beneath a thin stream of grey light that poured down from only God knew where, stood a leafless, lifeless shrub, no taller than her legs.
Sitting her luggage aside, but ensuring it was never out of reach, she leaned into the bush, delighting in the sweet, flowery scent, only to find herself sniffing with disgust when frustration came to stand with her. "How on earth could something like that produce a sweet scent?! It has no flowers! No beauty! Nothing of any great value. What good is it!"
Irritated, she collected the bag once more and lugged it over her shoulder, determined to walk away, when one of the sharp branches reached out and vehemently grabbed the hem of her skirts. She stopped, alarmed at the force holding her.
She tugged and pulled and all but wrestled the lifeless tree, annoyance swiftly transforming into extreme anger. "Let me go!!!" She tugged some more. The tree refused to give an inch. She tugged again. Nothing. And again... and again... until, wearily, she gave into the forces that held her, and, with a whimper and a whine, seated herself upon the bag she had found earlier.
"What do you want of me...?" she asked the tree. "Why do you not let me go...?" She waited for an answer, but none came. She waited for what seemed to be an eternity... and, as she waited, she found herself reflecting on times already gone. Times that seemed another world away.
She remembered his touch. The feel of his hand upon her skin. The look of love in his eyes. The whisper of his voice in the midst of heated passion.
Hugging her knees to herself, she allowed a single tear to escape the privacy of her soul. It slithered over the length of her thick lashes and plummeted to its death on one of the tree's branches. Then, as though by magic, a fruit - not unlike a pear - popped into being, dangling boldly, and brightly, from the tip of the branch that had collected the stray tear.
Hungrily, she snapped the fruit from its branch and immediately bit into it. Bitterness filled her mouth, causing her throat to tighten and her stomach to twist. It was the filthiest thing she had ever tasted. She tried to spit it from her lips, but it stuck to her tongue like glue, forcing her mouth shut, forcing her into silence. She had no choice other than to swallow.
The small mouthful felt huge in her taut throat, threatening to choke her as it made its way into the pit of her churning stomach. Nausea leapt up from the depths of her gut, demanding freedom, but as it did the scene before her altered and she was back in times now gone, at the mercy of his hands, bruised and bloodied by his merciless fists.
Pain tore through her as one memory after another was given life. One moment after another, rushing at her like a torrential flood, pounding her heart with that which she longed to forget.
Without voice, she screamed. From the core of her troubled soul, a cry rang out, but she could not open her mouth to release it. She wanted to run, but the tree held her in place. She wanted to hide, but the fruit insisted she play audience to a world that had long ago rejected her. She wanted to die... but how can one die when one possesses no life...?
It was the scent of something quite familiar, yet, at the same time, totally unidentifable that called for her attention. She followed its trail, curiousity guiding each step. The bag weighed heavily upon her shoulder, causing her back to ache, but she refused to rest until that which produced the sweet scent made itself known. Her tongue watered with anticipation.
"You don't need it..." came the whisper on the wind. But she did not heed the faceless voice. Longing called loud and clear, almost startling her senses, wooing her with its sweet scent, and, for now, that was all that mattered to her.
It seemed as though an eternity had passed before she reached a place where rest could finally be found - a place where desire and satisfaction teased and tempted one another. There, in the midst of the darkness, beneath a thin stream of grey light that poured down from only God knew where, stood a leafless, lifeless shrub, no taller than her legs.
Sitting her luggage aside, but ensuring it was never out of reach, she leaned into the bush, delighting in the sweet, flowery scent, only to find herself sniffing with disgust when frustration came to stand with her. "How on earth could something like that produce a sweet scent?! It has no flowers! No beauty! Nothing of any great value. What good is it!"
Irritated, she collected the bag once more and lugged it over her shoulder, determined to walk away, when one of the sharp branches reached out and vehemently grabbed the hem of her skirts. She stopped, alarmed at the force holding her.
She tugged and pulled and all but wrestled the lifeless tree, annoyance swiftly transforming into extreme anger. "Let me go!!!" She tugged some more. The tree refused to give an inch. She tugged again. Nothing. And again... and again... until, wearily, she gave into the forces that held her, and, with a whimper and a whine, seated herself upon the bag she had found earlier.
"What do you want of me...?" she asked the tree. "Why do you not let me go...?" She waited for an answer, but none came. She waited for what seemed to be an eternity... and, as she waited, she found herself reflecting on times already gone. Times that seemed another world away.
She remembered his touch. The feel of his hand upon her skin. The look of love in his eyes. The whisper of his voice in the midst of heated passion.
Hugging her knees to herself, she allowed a single tear to escape the privacy of her soul. It slithered over the length of her thick lashes and plummeted to its death on one of the tree's branches. Then, as though by magic, a fruit - not unlike a pear - popped into being, dangling boldly, and brightly, from the tip of the branch that had collected the stray tear.
Hungrily, she snapped the fruit from its branch and immediately bit into it. Bitterness filled her mouth, causing her throat to tighten and her stomach to twist. It was the filthiest thing she had ever tasted. She tried to spit it from her lips, but it stuck to her tongue like glue, forcing her mouth shut, forcing her into silence. She had no choice other than to swallow.
The small mouthful felt huge in her taut throat, threatening to choke her as it made its way into the pit of her churning stomach. Nausea leapt up from the depths of her gut, demanding freedom, but as it did the scene before her altered and she was back in times now gone, at the mercy of his hands, bruised and bloodied by his merciless fists.
Pain tore through her as one memory after another was given life. One moment after another, rushing at her like a torrential flood, pounding her heart with that which she longed to forget.
Without voice, she screamed. From the core of her troubled soul, a cry rang out, but she could not open her mouth to release it. She wanted to run, but the tree held her in place. She wanted to hide, but the fruit insisted she play audience to a world that had long ago rejected her. She wanted to die... but how can one die when one possesses no life...?
~ Part 3 ~
Sing to me in the emptiness of silence
cover me with the tenderness of your words
sing to me of joy, hope and love
until the echo of peace can be heard
Cover me with the shadow of your wing
protect me with the strength of your love
hold me against the cold winds of life
keep me in the depths of your heart
Free me from the circumstances that bind me
raise me from the pit that holds me down
embrace me with the fullness of your wonder
guide me until freedom is found
Let not this world have power over me
let not circumstance nor flesh be my cell
raise me up so I may walk on water
help me, so I can escape this inner hell
Wearily, she lay back upon the jagged path, staring blindly into the dark, a song of sorts languidly crawling through the muddy corridors of her soul. "Sing to me in the emptiness of silence; cover me with the tenderness of your words..." Every word failing to reach the deeper ravines of her heart as she sought further rest.
She knew she should get up and carry on, walk on to her chosen destination in order to turn her back on all her yesterdays, but at the moment she could not recall where it was she was headed to, and she very much doubted the journey would be worth the effort, anyway.
She was tired. Weary in heart, soul and body. And cold. So very cold... She wrapped her arms about herself, curling up on her side as she did. The tree, now without light, stood before her, keeping her prisoner. She wished the branches would transform into arms and hold her...
Wasn't there someone else on the path with her before...? Hadn't she started this journey with another hand in hers? Or had she imagined him...? Perhaps what she was experiencing now was nothing more than a dream. An illusion. Perhaps reality lay somewhere beyond this moment. Beyond the cold. Beyond the loneliness... Beyond the internal ache that relentlessly gripped the core of her soul.
With a sigh, she closed her eyes and saw darkness. With another, she opened her eyes... and saw darkness. She closed them once more... Opened them... A whimper caught in the back of the throat. She buried her face behind her hands, longing for something, anything, to come and carry her away.
A whisper on the airless wind came once more; a faint voice that sounded as though it were a million miles away. She couldn't quite make out what it was saying, for images of old returned to dance before her, appearing far more real than anything else in her world right now, demanding her attention.
"I will carry you..." came the voice...
Hope whispered to her soul. She sat up, eagerly staring into the darkness, hoping to find a heart to go with the voice. But as she aimed to rise to her feet, she felt something wet and warm trickle over the ground, seducing her fingers like a lover in the midst of sensual dreams.
The thick, gooey liquid held her hand, wooed her senses, made her feel warm and wanted. "I will carry you," came the echo, but she ignored it. The distant voice now sounding icy against the inviting warmth of that which presently touched - and delighted - her flesh.
"I will lay here until the sun shines again," she told the gooey substance, laying back down upon the earth. "I will find peace in the depths of this sensation." For the first time in such a long time, she felt wanted. She felt peaceful... She felt at home.
As the warmth seduced her flesh, memories as grey as the now faded stream of light had been, crawled over her entire body, dug deep into every pore of her being, burying themselves deep in old wounds, where they eagerly took root, seeking to produce fruit of their own. Although, such fruit did not produce nourishment for her soul. Rather, each one seemed to grow teeth and eat at her heart, taking more and more of her will with each bite.
Frightened now, she aimed to break free of the liquid, only to learn she had become its prisoner. She struggled to break free, but to no avail. As she wrestled and mourned, his face came back to her. Another's face leapt before her. Cruel hands. Pain. Scars. Fear...! And just as she was about to damn it all, and herself, to hell, she realised this was hell, and there was no escape.
"God help me or I will remain here forever," she told the emptiness of her dark world... Then, quite abruptly, she was free. Nothing held her to the ground. Nothing clung to her. She was totally free...! She arose. Stunned with relief. She laughed with wonder; not knowing what had broken the spell of seduction.
She was about to walk on, to hurry away, when she remembered the bag. Grabbing it, she figured she would break off a few branches of the tree to take with her, for as bitter as the fruit had been, surely she would need something to eat sooner or later. The branches snapped with ease, and she shoved them into the bag, unaware of what else lay hidden in the bag, and gravely offended by the filthy stench that broke free of its depths as she opened its mouth.
Snapping the bag closed, she aimed to walk on again, but as soon as she noted the chill in the air, she scooped up some of the gooey liquid and shoved that into the bag as well...for she knew, no matter what imaginings had lain with her only a moment earlier, she would need the warmth of that liquid once more. Despite the fact the depths of the liquid had caused her to dance with ghosts of old, the warmth had felt so good, and she knew she would want that sensation again... and again... and again...
Content, she walked on. A sense of satisfaction rushing to help her with her load. The bag was heavier now, but a sense of accomplishment and newfound freedom strengthened her and empowered her to head off along the path once more. Pride kept her company...
This may be hell, she thought, but atleast she had power here...
~ Part 4 ~
The rain came out of nowhere, spitting hard upon the earth. At first, the chilly droplets stunned her flesh - flesh that Pride had warmed only a moment earlier - but she soon adjusted, dropping her bag in order to spread her arms out wide and welcome the wetness upon her face, hands and clothing.
It was only when the chill reached her bones that she realised something was terribly amiss. She now noted the rain was just as thick as the gooey liquid had been, but this time it did not simply kiss her flesh with its tempting warmth, it clung to her so tightly it burned.
"What is this...?!" she cried, noting only now the discoloration of the rain and how it changed the colour of her gown to a dirty grey. The material of her dress aged before her eyes, and once the rain - if it could be called that- soaked through the clothing, through her under garments, and onto her flesh, she felt herself aging also.
With each breath she now took, a sense of defeat came over her. So much so that she was forced to her knees by the weight of it. She felt as though she were drowning, and as soon as Hopelessness clutched hold of her chest, she wished she were.
Death, she registered, had a far louder voice than any... And he called to her. And, oh, how she wanted to run into his arms and fade from all awareness.
A puddle of mud formed before her, its shallow depths stirring into a whirlpool. She stared at it as Defeat climbed up on her shoulders and announced Hope had been slain. Then, there in the depths of the muddy waters, came her own image. Her reflection was young again. Even though she felt as old as Time himself, her image reflected youth and beauty at its peak. With Longing, she reached for it...
Curiosity took hold of her hand, guiding her trembling fingers to touch the swirling mud.
Her image altered again.
She was seven again... He was there. In her room. In the dark... She looked away. Sickened by what she remembered. Inwardy, she released a groan far darker and far more deeper than any she had ever produced before.
Curiosity demanded she look again.
The image in the pool changed once more.
She was eight...
nine...
sixteen...
They told her she couldn't keep the baby. It was wrong. A sin. Conceived by evil... but evil was what she felt when they tore him from her body.
She caught her breath. "My baby... Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God...!" She wanted to go back and change the past, but such power was not hers. She wanted to run, but she was pinned to the muddy ground; pinned to the past. She wanted to die, but Death, she knew, only teased her, enjoying every minute of her suffering, relishing every groan and whimper that burst forth from her wounded soul. He did not want her either.
...she was still sixteen... drunk... lost... ashamed... angry...
...she was twenty-one... sick... drunk... lost... ashamed... angry... and so alone...
As Curiosity handed her over to Torment, her heart broke. Nay... it was already broken. These truths had simply reflected the fragments of life and light that had been ripped from her and replaced with jagged scars.
As the thick tears fell hot and fast, Shame rushed to catch them, only to throw them back in her face, damning her for what she had done; for what she had become. "Murderer!" cried Shame. "Whore!" screamed Guilt. "You deserve to suffer! You deserve this hell!"
She was older now... sober... lost... ashamed... alone... with no anger to protect her.
As the excruciating pain in her chest feverishly carved its way to her twisting stomach, stealing her breath as it went, she fell into the mud, her salty tears mixing with the wet earth. From the depths of her scarred soul she wept, confessing her sinfulness to a world that had totally rejected her; wishing she, like Hope, could die...
Haunting memories and laughter arose up from the well of suffering that wildly bubbled before her weeping face, spitting in her eyes, clawing her flesh, heart and soul, adding to her shame. Yes, she realised, this was hell.
"But this is my own doing," she told the falling rain and its burning touch. "This is the path I chose... My path. My fault... My life..."
Life... So this was Life after all. This was her chosen destination. There was nothing else beyond this moment. Nothing but...hell eternal...
Mourning poured forth its waters, and she drank until her soul was flooded. Then she fell, deeper and deeper into the muddy pit before her... not bothering to fight anymore. For this, she convinced herself, was what she deserved. This was her reality...from which there was no escape...
It was only when the chill reached her bones that she realised something was terribly amiss. She now noted the rain was just as thick as the gooey liquid had been, but this time it did not simply kiss her flesh with its tempting warmth, it clung to her so tightly it burned.
"What is this...?!" she cried, noting only now the discoloration of the rain and how it changed the colour of her gown to a dirty grey. The material of her dress aged before her eyes, and once the rain - if it could be called that- soaked through the clothing, through her under garments, and onto her flesh, she felt herself aging also.
With each breath she now took, a sense of defeat came over her. So much so that she was forced to her knees by the weight of it. She felt as though she were drowning, and as soon as Hopelessness clutched hold of her chest, she wished she were.
Death, she registered, had a far louder voice than any... And he called to her. And, oh, how she wanted to run into his arms and fade from all awareness.
A puddle of mud formed before her, its shallow depths stirring into a whirlpool. She stared at it as Defeat climbed up on her shoulders and announced Hope had been slain. Then, there in the depths of the muddy waters, came her own image. Her reflection was young again. Even though she felt as old as Time himself, her image reflected youth and beauty at its peak. With Longing, she reached for it...
Curiosity took hold of her hand, guiding her trembling fingers to touch the swirling mud.
Her image altered again.
She was seven again... He was there. In her room. In the dark... She looked away. Sickened by what she remembered. Inwardy, she released a groan far darker and far more deeper than any she had ever produced before.
Curiosity demanded she look again.
The image in the pool changed once more.
She was eight...
nine...
sixteen...
They told her she couldn't keep the baby. It was wrong. A sin. Conceived by evil... but evil was what she felt when they tore him from her body.
She caught her breath. "My baby... Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God...!" She wanted to go back and change the past, but such power was not hers. She wanted to run, but she was pinned to the muddy ground; pinned to the past. She wanted to die, but Death, she knew, only teased her, enjoying every minute of her suffering, relishing every groan and whimper that burst forth from her wounded soul. He did not want her either.
...she was still sixteen... drunk... lost... ashamed... angry...
...she was twenty-one... sick... drunk... lost... ashamed... angry... and so alone...
As Curiosity handed her over to Torment, her heart broke. Nay... it was already broken. These truths had simply reflected the fragments of life and light that had been ripped from her and replaced with jagged scars.
As the thick tears fell hot and fast, Shame rushed to catch them, only to throw them back in her face, damning her for what she had done; for what she had become. "Murderer!" cried Shame. "Whore!" screamed Guilt. "You deserve to suffer! You deserve this hell!"
She was older now... sober... lost... ashamed... alone... with no anger to protect her.
As the excruciating pain in her chest feverishly carved its way to her twisting stomach, stealing her breath as it went, she fell into the mud, her salty tears mixing with the wet earth. From the depths of her scarred soul she wept, confessing her sinfulness to a world that had totally rejected her; wishing she, like Hope, could die...
Haunting memories and laughter arose up from the well of suffering that wildly bubbled before her weeping face, spitting in her eyes, clawing her flesh, heart and soul, adding to her shame. Yes, she realised, this was hell.
"But this is my own doing," she told the falling rain and its burning touch. "This is the path I chose... My path. My fault... My life..."
Life... So this was Life after all. This was her chosen destination. There was nothing else beyond this moment. Nothing but...hell eternal...
Mourning poured forth its waters, and she drank until her soul was flooded. Then she fell, deeper and deeper into the muddy pit before her... not bothering to fight anymore. For this, she convinced herself, was what she deserved. This was her reality...from which there was no escape...
~ Part 5 ~
She lay there in the mud, on her side, staring blindly into the dark, remembering, but longing to forget. Memories, like demons, taunted her with woes of yesterday. Shame and Guilt flaunted their arrogance before her, damning her heart, cursing her soul.
She closed her eyes, longing to forget the world and all she had found there.
Love... Now she remembered. That's where she had hoped her journey had been taking her: To the Field of Love. She heard it was beautiful there. No condemnation. No heartache. All wrongs forgiven. All sorrow wiped away.
Oh, how she longed for such a place... for such a place of rest; a state of heart.
One tear fell after another, failing to cleanse her soul, driving her further and further into the corners of her own heart.
"You don't belong here," came the now-familiar voice.
She remained as she was, speaking through tears. "Yes, I do..."
"Take my hand... I've come to set you free."
"No."
"No...?"
"No."
"Why not?" His voice was gentle, ever so soft and tender, and it called to her deeply... but she dare not allow her heart to respond to it.
She closed her eyes, not bothering to find the face of the one who called to her. "Leave me alone."
"I know the way to the Field of Love. Follow me..."
She rolled over, turning her back to him, the muddy earth clinging to every inch of her. "There is no such place."
"That is not true."
Without energy, and with her patience wearing thin, she groaned. "Look around you, sir. This is my truth. This is reality..."
He waited a moment before he asked, "And how is that working for you?"
His question resounded through her empty soul. Realisation moved in close, pressing heavily against her heart. She tried to ignore it... "It is what it is."
"If this is what you truly want, you can have it. It's your call. However, no matter what you say, I have heard the cry of your heart, and it tells me this is not what it desires."
"You hear what you choose to hear. Go away and leave me be."
"I hear the cries of a broken heart. It remains trapped in a cave of mixed emotions, suffering from abuse, misuse and fears. It cries for me to heal it so it may be set free... Follow me, and I will lead you to freedom."
Clenching her teeth, she tried oh so hard to shut him out. His words reached out and touched the heart he spoke of, warming it with hope, daring it to beat again and she wanted nothing to do with it. She had been fooled by warmth and feelings and many other things before, and she refused to heed their call now, convinced he would do nothing but add to her woe if she were to give him her heart... her faith... her hope.
"This is where I belong. This is where the path I was on led me to... Wherever this may be..."
"It is true your choices have helped get you here. But many of those choices were simply wrong turns. That, and the detour signs this world put in your way... This is not where you were meant to end up. This is not the destiny chosen for you."
Annoyed, she sat up and stared in the direction the voice echoed from, quickly having to cover her eyes from the light shining from him. "Who are you?"
With the rattle of metal against metal, he said, "I am the keeper of the keys, and I have come to help you out of this hell hole."
"Why would you help me?"
"Why not?"
"I haven't done anything worthy of help, and I cannot pay you."
Although she couldn't make out what he looked like - due to the almost blinding light - she could tell he had been sitting or crouching, and now he stood. He seemed casual in his manner, relaxed even, yet... powerful, too. She felt herself growing stronger just by being in his presence. But dare she trust that strength, or had it also come to deceive her...?
"Come, child... Your freedom has already been paid for. Just take my hand, and I will show you the way."
"I cannot reach you."
"I am here... just reach out."
"The walls of this pit are too deep and too slippery. I will never reach your hand."
"I am here... just reach out..."
"I can't!"
"Take a step of faith..." His patience gave her courage.
She looked around, only now noticing how highlighted the ground about them was. "It's so muddy. So slimy. I'll never climb out."
"Don't look at the circumstances. Reach for me. Keep your eyes fixed on me, and I will guide you out... Please, just trust me."
"Who are you that I should trust you? You're just like everyone else."
"Listen to your heart, child. It knows me. It calls to me. It hears me even when your eyes cannot see me."
"How can I trust a heart that has led me to this place?"
"It is a broken heart that led you here. That and the desires of the flesh. But I speak to the depths of your heart, beyond the brokenness, far beyond the flesh, in the place where you allow no one to enter. I speak to the real you, that has been forced into hiding, covered by a world of hurt and lies. I speak to the beauty that is you. The truth that is you. Close your eyes, silence the moaning of the flesh with all its yearnings, and you will hear me... the real me. And you will know I mean you no harm... Feel me in your heart..."
"I'm scared..."
"I know... but you are not powerless. You still possess your own will. You can release my hand any time you desire. Your free will is a gift I have no right to take. All I desire to do is give you a new life, a better life, where you can use that will to live beyond that which binds you to places such as this. You seek peace, joy and love... and I know how to get you there. The door is open, child... You are free. All you have to do is take a step of faith. Believe..."
Through stunning revelation, she realised, "You want to give me Life...?"
"Yes...I want to give you life... and that more abundantly..."
She closed her eyes, longing to forget the world and all she had found there.
Love... Now she remembered. That's where she had hoped her journey had been taking her: To the Field of Love. She heard it was beautiful there. No condemnation. No heartache. All wrongs forgiven. All sorrow wiped away.
Oh, how she longed for such a place... for such a place of rest; a state of heart.
One tear fell after another, failing to cleanse her soul, driving her further and further into the corners of her own heart.
"You don't belong here," came the now-familiar voice.
She remained as she was, speaking through tears. "Yes, I do..."
"Take my hand... I've come to set you free."
"No."
"No...?"
"No."
"Why not?" His voice was gentle, ever so soft and tender, and it called to her deeply... but she dare not allow her heart to respond to it.
She closed her eyes, not bothering to find the face of the one who called to her. "Leave me alone."
"I know the way to the Field of Love. Follow me..."
She rolled over, turning her back to him, the muddy earth clinging to every inch of her. "There is no such place."
"That is not true."
Without energy, and with her patience wearing thin, she groaned. "Look around you, sir. This is my truth. This is reality..."
He waited a moment before he asked, "And how is that working for you?"
His question resounded through her empty soul. Realisation moved in close, pressing heavily against her heart. She tried to ignore it... "It is what it is."
"If this is what you truly want, you can have it. It's your call. However, no matter what you say, I have heard the cry of your heart, and it tells me this is not what it desires."
"You hear what you choose to hear. Go away and leave me be."
"I hear the cries of a broken heart. It remains trapped in a cave of mixed emotions, suffering from abuse, misuse and fears. It cries for me to heal it so it may be set free... Follow me, and I will lead you to freedom."
Clenching her teeth, she tried oh so hard to shut him out. His words reached out and touched the heart he spoke of, warming it with hope, daring it to beat again and she wanted nothing to do with it. She had been fooled by warmth and feelings and many other things before, and she refused to heed their call now, convinced he would do nothing but add to her woe if she were to give him her heart... her faith... her hope.
"This is where I belong. This is where the path I was on led me to... Wherever this may be..."
"It is true your choices have helped get you here. But many of those choices were simply wrong turns. That, and the detour signs this world put in your way... This is not where you were meant to end up. This is not the destiny chosen for you."
Annoyed, she sat up and stared in the direction the voice echoed from, quickly having to cover her eyes from the light shining from him. "Who are you?"
With the rattle of metal against metal, he said, "I am the keeper of the keys, and I have come to help you out of this hell hole."
"Why would you help me?"
"Why not?"
"I haven't done anything worthy of help, and I cannot pay you."
Although she couldn't make out what he looked like - due to the almost blinding light - she could tell he had been sitting or crouching, and now he stood. He seemed casual in his manner, relaxed even, yet... powerful, too. She felt herself growing stronger just by being in his presence. But dare she trust that strength, or had it also come to deceive her...?
"Come, child... Your freedom has already been paid for. Just take my hand, and I will show you the way."
"I cannot reach you."
"I am here... just reach out."
"The walls of this pit are too deep and too slippery. I will never reach your hand."
"I am here... just reach out..."
"I can't!"
"Take a step of faith..." His patience gave her courage.
She looked around, only now noticing how highlighted the ground about them was. "It's so muddy. So slimy. I'll never climb out."
"Don't look at the circumstances. Reach for me. Keep your eyes fixed on me, and I will guide you out... Please, just trust me."
"Who are you that I should trust you? You're just like everyone else."
"Listen to your heart, child. It knows me. It calls to me. It hears me even when your eyes cannot see me."
"How can I trust a heart that has led me to this place?"
"It is a broken heart that led you here. That and the desires of the flesh. But I speak to the depths of your heart, beyond the brokenness, far beyond the flesh, in the place where you allow no one to enter. I speak to the real you, that has been forced into hiding, covered by a world of hurt and lies. I speak to the beauty that is you. The truth that is you. Close your eyes, silence the moaning of the flesh with all its yearnings, and you will hear me... the real me. And you will know I mean you no harm... Feel me in your heart..."
"I'm scared..."
"I know... but you are not powerless. You still possess your own will. You can release my hand any time you desire. Your free will is a gift I have no right to take. All I desire to do is give you a new life, a better life, where you can use that will to live beyond that which binds you to places such as this. You seek peace, joy and love... and I know how to get you there. The door is open, child... You are free. All you have to do is take a step of faith. Believe..."
Through stunning revelation, she realised, "You want to give me Life...?"
"Yes...I want to give you life... and that more abundantly..."
~ Part 6 ~ The Finale ~
When she took his hand and he gently drew her into his presence, something deep within - in a place far deeper than she had felt before - stirred. It was like a liquid warmth, rising up from beyond the depths of her core, flooding her spirit, soul and body. She closed her eyes, relishing the sensation; only now feeling as though another part of her had been discovered and given life.
Focusing on the large hands that held hers against his chest, she tried to understand what she was experiencing. "What is this?"
"What you're feeling?"
Looking up into eyes that held her with such sweet affection, she nodded. "I mean, I sense joy and peace...relief, even, but there's something else making itself known and I'm not sure what it is. I don't recognise it... Is it Life?"
"You are - in spirit - being reconnected to the One who gives Life: The Owner of the Field of Love. It is a connection from which His life, love and thoughts flow to yours, and yours back to Him. A bond no man can sever, but you..."
She again eyed the hands that held hers, and felt the heart within the chest they touched. "It feels like that..." she said, talking more to herself than to him. "How is that possible...? I feel your heartbeat... I feel... you! It's as though my soul now recognises yours..." She blinked up at him as tears stung her eyes. "Is that alright? I mean... I feel you deep inside me. I know you... I feel your Spirit..."
He touched her cheek, ever so softly, and for reasons she did not understand at the time, a fountain of tears poured forth, and she fell into his arms; suddenly regretting everything she had done, every decision she had ever made, that had turned her away from the Giver of Life and the grace and mercy she instinctively knew He was offering her.
"I'm sorry..."
He held her for the longest time, not saying a single word. Holding her to himself as she wept, with his cheek against her brow. And while he said not a word, she again felt his love, his heartbeat, his life, pouring from his Spirit into hers, and, with deep gratitude, she cried again...
"You are the connection," she believed. "You... Your Spirit... That is what connects me to the Giver of Life, isn't it?"
With a smile, and what looked like a tear of joy, he nodded.
"I've never met anyone like you. So tender, so undemanding."
"Life's demanding enough as it is. You don't need anymore burdens. Infact," he breathed, "I'll be happy to take those from you now."
"What?" Not until he reached by her and picked up her bag did she realise she still had it with her. "Burdens? Is that what is in that bag?"
"Yes. Worthless, filthy, dead burdens... Things the Giver of Life never intended for you to carry. I will take them from you now."
"I can't let you do that! That is so unfair."
His smile had a way of penetrating her worries and stilling her heart with peace. "But that's what I do. You don't want to put me out of a job, do you?"
He was playful in his manner, so much so that she couldn't help but smile in return, and feel at peace with what he asked of her. "No, I don't want to do that."
"It will be time to walk on soon."
"To the Field?"
"That is your destiny, yes. However, there are many paths to walk yet, and so many things to see along the way. But first, I give you this."
Receiving a small parcel, she touched the material of the bag and asked, "What is it?"
"Inside you will find a map, a few things I have written that will help keep you on the straight and narrow path, as well as a few notes to remind you just how greatly you are loved and wanted." His tilted smile made her heart melt. "And," he added, "bread and wine...
"At certain intervals of your journey you will need to eat and drink, and when you do, take out the notes I have written and think of me. Remember me. Remember this moment, and the connection we now share. Remember all that you felt pouring forth from my Spirit to yours. Remember where I found you, and from where you came... not to be burdened with the woes of yesterday, but to remind yourself that you have been set free. The burdens and all that tie you to the past are no longer yours.
"Other trials and tests will come on this journey. There will be those who seek to send you back to the pit, who will deny what you now know to be reality, so you will need to remind yourself of the truth and love that has found you today, so you will never again be burdened."
Slightly troubled, she asked, "There will be tests and trials? How long will the journey take?"
"It varies for everyone. Some have been lost, wandering around the same old mountain, refusing to climb it through fear of letting go of that which they once knew, or through weariness and not wanting to go on anymore. Others have wandered off down various tracks, losing themselves in the streets of melancholy and regret. Many wander around deadends, longing for something that can never be. Others have fallen into the pit of hypocrisy and struggle to get back out, denying where they are at. Some are caught by the web of lies. Others willingly run after that which pleases their flesh, despite the poisionous fumes that dull their senses and threatens to destroy the very world they live in."
"These are the dangers I face?"
"These are the dangers you have always faced. Only now, when these things come to trip, tempt, or trap you, you can reach deep down and release the power the Giver of Life gives you, in order to overcome. Remembering this very moment, this point of reconnection, will help keep you strong. The bread, wine and notes will help you remember. Partake in them often..."
"The other people... the ones who have lost their way... what if I become like one of them? Is that possible?"
"Yes... if you choose to believe what circumstances tell you, you probably will. Your spirit has been renewed. It has been given the ability to stay in touch with the Giver of Life. When circumstances come against you, all you need do is be still and heed his voice over the cry of all that stirs up fear and doubt. What has been placed inside you is the most valueable gift you will ever possess this side of the Field of Love. You must protect it. You must choose to protect it with a shield of faith. Know that we will guide you Home, and trust us to do so..."
"I trust you," she said, hugging him. "And the others, there is no hope for them?"
"As long as their is Life, there is hope. I won't give up them, and if you see anyone stumbling along the way, invite them to go with you. Tell them about me, about the Giver of Life and what we offer. Tell them of the freedom, peace, joy and love that awaits them. Give them hope... This world is a dark and dismal place without hope..."
"Yes, it is..." Looking up at him, she said, "I will offer them all you have given me... There is so much I need to know, isn't there? How will I ever make it?"
"You will learn as you go. If you have any questions, ask, and the answers will be given to you."
"This connection, that links me to the Giver of Life," she asked, trying to understand, "is that like a phone connection?"
He laughed. Not in a demeaning way, but in a way that told her he thought she was wonderful. He made her feel wonderful. "Something like that, yes. Your very own personal line. No one can eavesdrop on your conversations with Him. But don't forget His voice is a tender one, very quiet. Circumstances will cause your flesh to scream at times, but you must still it, so He can be heard."
"Sounds like it could be challenging."
"That it will be."
It was then that she looked down at herself and realised her dirty gown had gone and in its place a white robe now held her. "What the...? When did...? Huh...?"
Oh, how she could lose herself in his laughter. It was the most glorious thing she had ever heard, and it forever caused joy to rise up in her soul. "You were washed clean... It happened while you were crying."
"My clothes changed while I was crying?"
He nodded.
"But how?"
"You seek an answer that will suit your human understanding, precious child, but you walk in a different realm now. While your physical form remains here in this world, your spirit is connected to another. All the answers you seek now must be found through your connection to the Giver of Life. Your flesh and human understanding will never be satisfied with any answer it is given, for such answers will not make sense when viewed through your 'natural' senses. Close your eyes, feel the connection, feel the Spirit, and you will see the truth..."
She closed her eyes, and somehow knew, "And the truth will set me free."
"Yes... The answers will be found."
"Tell me, will you come with me on this journey?"
Looking deep into her heart, where she knew no other man would ever find her, he replied, "I will be with you always... even to the ends of the earth."
© Donna Keevers Driver
Focusing on the large hands that held hers against his chest, she tried to understand what she was experiencing. "What is this?"
"What you're feeling?"
Looking up into eyes that held her with such sweet affection, she nodded. "I mean, I sense joy and peace...relief, even, but there's something else making itself known and I'm not sure what it is. I don't recognise it... Is it Life?"
"You are - in spirit - being reconnected to the One who gives Life: The Owner of the Field of Love. It is a connection from which His life, love and thoughts flow to yours, and yours back to Him. A bond no man can sever, but you..."
She again eyed the hands that held hers, and felt the heart within the chest they touched. "It feels like that..." she said, talking more to herself than to him. "How is that possible...? I feel your heartbeat... I feel... you! It's as though my soul now recognises yours..." She blinked up at him as tears stung her eyes. "Is that alright? I mean... I feel you deep inside me. I know you... I feel your Spirit..."
He touched her cheek, ever so softly, and for reasons she did not understand at the time, a fountain of tears poured forth, and she fell into his arms; suddenly regretting everything she had done, every decision she had ever made, that had turned her away from the Giver of Life and the grace and mercy she instinctively knew He was offering her.
"I'm sorry..."
He held her for the longest time, not saying a single word. Holding her to himself as she wept, with his cheek against her brow. And while he said not a word, she again felt his love, his heartbeat, his life, pouring from his Spirit into hers, and, with deep gratitude, she cried again...
"You are the connection," she believed. "You... Your Spirit... That is what connects me to the Giver of Life, isn't it?"
With a smile, and what looked like a tear of joy, he nodded.
"I've never met anyone like you. So tender, so undemanding."
"Life's demanding enough as it is. You don't need anymore burdens. Infact," he breathed, "I'll be happy to take those from you now."
"What?" Not until he reached by her and picked up her bag did she realise she still had it with her. "Burdens? Is that what is in that bag?"
"Yes. Worthless, filthy, dead burdens... Things the Giver of Life never intended for you to carry. I will take them from you now."
"I can't let you do that! That is so unfair."
His smile had a way of penetrating her worries and stilling her heart with peace. "But that's what I do. You don't want to put me out of a job, do you?"
He was playful in his manner, so much so that she couldn't help but smile in return, and feel at peace with what he asked of her. "No, I don't want to do that."
"It will be time to walk on soon."
"To the Field?"
"That is your destiny, yes. However, there are many paths to walk yet, and so many things to see along the way. But first, I give you this."
Receiving a small parcel, she touched the material of the bag and asked, "What is it?"
"Inside you will find a map, a few things I have written that will help keep you on the straight and narrow path, as well as a few notes to remind you just how greatly you are loved and wanted." His tilted smile made her heart melt. "And," he added, "bread and wine...
"At certain intervals of your journey you will need to eat and drink, and when you do, take out the notes I have written and think of me. Remember me. Remember this moment, and the connection we now share. Remember all that you felt pouring forth from my Spirit to yours. Remember where I found you, and from where you came... not to be burdened with the woes of yesterday, but to remind yourself that you have been set free. The burdens and all that tie you to the past are no longer yours.
"Other trials and tests will come on this journey. There will be those who seek to send you back to the pit, who will deny what you now know to be reality, so you will need to remind yourself of the truth and love that has found you today, so you will never again be burdened."
Slightly troubled, she asked, "There will be tests and trials? How long will the journey take?"
"It varies for everyone. Some have been lost, wandering around the same old mountain, refusing to climb it through fear of letting go of that which they once knew, or through weariness and not wanting to go on anymore. Others have wandered off down various tracks, losing themselves in the streets of melancholy and regret. Many wander around deadends, longing for something that can never be. Others have fallen into the pit of hypocrisy and struggle to get back out, denying where they are at. Some are caught by the web of lies. Others willingly run after that which pleases their flesh, despite the poisionous fumes that dull their senses and threatens to destroy the very world they live in."
"These are the dangers I face?"
"These are the dangers you have always faced. Only now, when these things come to trip, tempt, or trap you, you can reach deep down and release the power the Giver of Life gives you, in order to overcome. Remembering this very moment, this point of reconnection, will help keep you strong. The bread, wine and notes will help you remember. Partake in them often..."
"The other people... the ones who have lost their way... what if I become like one of them? Is that possible?"
"Yes... if you choose to believe what circumstances tell you, you probably will. Your spirit has been renewed. It has been given the ability to stay in touch with the Giver of Life. When circumstances come against you, all you need do is be still and heed his voice over the cry of all that stirs up fear and doubt. What has been placed inside you is the most valueable gift you will ever possess this side of the Field of Love. You must protect it. You must choose to protect it with a shield of faith. Know that we will guide you Home, and trust us to do so..."
"I trust you," she said, hugging him. "And the others, there is no hope for them?"
"As long as their is Life, there is hope. I won't give up them, and if you see anyone stumbling along the way, invite them to go with you. Tell them about me, about the Giver of Life and what we offer. Tell them of the freedom, peace, joy and love that awaits them. Give them hope... This world is a dark and dismal place without hope..."
"Yes, it is..." Looking up at him, she said, "I will offer them all you have given me... There is so much I need to know, isn't there? How will I ever make it?"
"You will learn as you go. If you have any questions, ask, and the answers will be given to you."
"This connection, that links me to the Giver of Life," she asked, trying to understand, "is that like a phone connection?"
He laughed. Not in a demeaning way, but in a way that told her he thought she was wonderful. He made her feel wonderful. "Something like that, yes. Your very own personal line. No one can eavesdrop on your conversations with Him. But don't forget His voice is a tender one, very quiet. Circumstances will cause your flesh to scream at times, but you must still it, so He can be heard."
"Sounds like it could be challenging."
"That it will be."
It was then that she looked down at herself and realised her dirty gown had gone and in its place a white robe now held her. "What the...? When did...? Huh...?"
Oh, how she could lose herself in his laughter. It was the most glorious thing she had ever heard, and it forever caused joy to rise up in her soul. "You were washed clean... It happened while you were crying."
"My clothes changed while I was crying?"
He nodded.
"But how?"
"You seek an answer that will suit your human understanding, precious child, but you walk in a different realm now. While your physical form remains here in this world, your spirit is connected to another. All the answers you seek now must be found through your connection to the Giver of Life. Your flesh and human understanding will never be satisfied with any answer it is given, for such answers will not make sense when viewed through your 'natural' senses. Close your eyes, feel the connection, feel the Spirit, and you will see the truth..."
She closed her eyes, and somehow knew, "And the truth will set me free."
"Yes... The answers will be found."
"Tell me, will you come with me on this journey?"
Looking deep into her heart, where she knew no other man would ever find her, he replied, "I will be with you always... even to the ends of the earth."
© Donna Keevers Driver