Okay, I just started writing this story and couldn't stop. Something told me to write it. It's a little bit "stream-of-consciousness" in some places (most places actually) but I was moved to write it.
I am but a servant of Love. Love has been with me since the beginning and I have felt It's presence for all time, even when I felt It had deserted me.
In the beginning, I was It's favorite, or so it seemed. Bountiful blessings of abundant rain poured down upon me. I was fertile and brought forth sustenance that fed the bounty of life that Love had place in my care.
One day I met another like me. It seemed to me at the time that she had not fared so well as I. It seemed as though she had been abandoned by Love. From my vantage point, she appeared dry, cracked, hard and infertile. It seemed as if I had received more than my fair share of the bounty of blessings. I felt the burden to share the abundance that had been given to me and so I offered to share with her. She accepted it with gratitude, grace and responded in kind. We became friends.
As I shared my blessings with her, and she with I, I saw her flourish and dance as she herself had thirsted for the rain for ages. I mused to myself and wondered how it came to be that someone as beautiful as this had been so abandoned by Love. I could not understand how she had come to be a hard, infertile rock; cold and unfeeling. All she needed was a little Love.
She told me great stories of strife and hardship. There were lean times where famine had raged across her own fields and she weathered many a storm. My heart broke with each story and more of the love I had received poured out into her.
I began to understand the joy that Love must feel when It's allowed to give freely to us and fill our lives with the blessings we need to grow and thrive. I began to really enjoy it... but I am not Love... I am but a servant of Love.
I began to believe that I could do things as well as Love could do them. After all, I was created by Love and therefore must have an imprint of that image within me. It was at this point in my life where the seeds of the illness took root within my own soil. For I believed I was greater than I am. The more I gave, the more she seemed to thirst. As time went by, my own reserves began to run dry and the less I had to give. I noticed my own soil beginning to dry, crack and harden. The bounty of sustenance I once had began to wither and die and become poisonous to those in my own care who would partake of them.
I was stubborn. I was drunk with the idea of being Love itself and could no longer be satisfied with simply being an extension, a conduit or a servant of love. The more I gave, the worse it got. The beauty of the bounty that Love had provided in my life had been replaced with selfishness, vanity and pride sprouting up like weeds, greedily consuming all that Love had provided and choking out the bounty that once grew from within me.
I cried out to Love in my horror and anguish. I wailed and begged for forgiveness. I begged to be made useful again in It's eyes. Love looked upon me and took pity. It knew my heart and understood why. A tear fell from It's cheek for it knew what had to be done. The selfishness, vanity and pride were deeply rooted within me. They were not about to leave quietly. Love knew what had to be done.
The grass and plants that grew within my soil died completely. Those within my care left for greener pastures. The love I continued to receive fed only the poisonous weeds that now covered my once lush landscape. That was when Love could bear it no more. I had heard tales of the Love's wrath against the wicked. I had no understanding of this wrath until now when it's full weight fell upon me.
Like knives piercing my heart, great war began to rage across my plains. Other, darker servants of Love raged across my fields, ripping and tearing at the infection within me. The roots were deep. As each vine was ripped away, parts of me had to go with it. They too knew of Love and desired it all for themselves. So as each selfish thing was pulled away, it left seeds behind to take root and wait for Love to rain upon me again, that I might continue to thrive.
It was only now that I saw my friend's original condition in a new light. I understood, for the first time, what she had been through. I saw my own scars scattered across my crust and recognized them as the same I had seen upon her. She had shared with me her pain, and in doing so, I contracted it myself! I understood even more what had to take place for Love to return.
I looked into the Heavens and with tears of pain and joy prayed for Love's mercy. In that moment, we touched, my creator and I, and I knew it would be alright. I nodded my head and it was over.
I drifted, cold and hardened after the final onslaught. Love's dark servants dug deep within, not only ripping away every living thing growing on my scarred surface, but then also pounded my once fertile soil into hardened rock, unmoving, uninhabitable... and compared to my previous existence, dead to all who knew me.
Love then began again with me. Now that the illness had fled, the time was right. With painful, pounding hammers deep carving blades, and a fire that burned hotter than hell itself, Love began to crack, till, melt and transform my hardened body into a new one. Throughout time, It filtered and sifted away the impurities that had made me vulnerable to the illness the first time.
The process seemed to take ages upon ages to complete. Then one day, as I laid there broken and still ablaze with fires burning deep within me, Love said, "I am finished. Let's see how we did."
The heavens opened and an abundance of rain fell upon me, seeping into every crack and dousing the flames that licked at my sores. The temperature changes brought about more changes as I felt Love's blessings fill me through and through until I thought I would burst.
Then I looked upon myself and saw what Love had wrought as the first few blades of grass began to sprout again. I understood, once again, the gift that had once again been given to me. Now, with knowledge of the illness and how it spreads, I could be of even more service to those like me, servants of Love. The very thing I desired the most, to be more like my creator, was given to me. But one can not defeat an enemy if one doesn't know it.
I do not bear a grudge against my friend for sharing the disease. For that was her task to do. Without that, I would have remained a child without the ability to defend myself against the enemy of Love. We are well to do all that Love requires of us.
Love will bless you with all you ask for, if you are willing to pay the cost for what you ask. Be therefore careful and wise in what you request... you just might get it.
No comments:
Post a Comment