Questions

She walked alone in the cold air. The stars twinkled softly overhead. Yet her world seemed a ball of fire, a vast expanse. She looked at the moon. It was cold, heartless, and stares at her with a menacing look. She shivered, and pulls her cloak tighter.

“Who am I?” she asked.

The words echoed into the cool night, and fell to the ground with a thud.

The girl felt small amidst the sea of glaring stars. Perhaps she was the only thing alive in this strange, dark world. Where was she? Was she dreaming?

And then she heard a voice.

The voice was like the sound of fresh rain on a dry, summer day. It resonated with the sound of the most luscious music known to man. It was light and full of colors. It was airy. It was so much unlike her own voice. It made her fall to the ground. She wanted to hide under her cloak; cry out and say “I am not worthy! I am no one!” But she did not. She merely sat trembling.

“Walk with me.”

And suddenly she felt a hand in her own. It was warm, and it gave her a surge throughout her thin, fragile body.

It pulled her to her feet.

Suddenly she found a path leading downward. It was hard and rough. She could see nothing, not even the face of the one who held her. Often times the girl would stumble. Once she scraped her knee. The blood trickled down the hard path, unseen by the girl because of the thick darkness.

“My Lord! Stop!” she cried.

Yet the stranger kept on, helping her up and taking her down the path.

It seemed like hours, days, months, years, eternity. The clouds covered up the light of the moon, now not even there to glare at her.

“Stop! Stop!” she cried, and let go of the hand. All at once the cold swallowed her up.

“Where are we going?” she cried. Her words again fell to the ground. She waited for an answer. There was none.

“Why?” she screamed, feeling her bloody knee, her back aching, her mind racing.

“Why?” she screamed louder.

All at once it was quiet. And the voice came again.

“Walk with me,” it said with a richness sweeter than chocolate, yet, with a pain that punctured the soul.

“I will not go,” said the girl, and collapsed into the darkness. “You do not know of my suffering. You do not know of my pain. I do not even know who you are!” she cried.

“Trust me.” The voice came again.

And the girl, in an instant, made a choice. Although it went against all reason, she stood up and instantly found her hand in the one that had led her.

The road kept going on and on.

Suddenly, the girl looked forward. Was that a dash of light?

She realized that she was no longer standing on the rocky path. Instead, she stood in soft, cool grass. The pain from her knee was gone.

The light grew. It painted the sky in reds, purples, and crimsons. From the light the girl could see she stood in a green valley. It was filled with wildflowers that seemed to laugh as they waved their heads in the warm breeze. In the distance was a waterfall, flowing down into a laughing stream.

And then she saw Him. It was the one that had led her all this way. She saw his back as he stood in front of her, beholding the scene. His clothes were white and shining. His hair was brown and tangled.

Suddenly, he turned, and she gasped.

His face was soft, joyful, but full of pain. It was streaked with dirt and tears.

And He put forth his hand once more. But in the growing light, the girl saw that in the middle of his hand was a scar. It was in the shape of a nail.

“You have known suffering. You have known pain. Now,” he said, “You can know Me.”

And with that He led her into the fields of green.