She thought she was alone, in the arena, facing the jackals; in their eyes was pitiless hunger; longing to devour her. All she could see in her left hand was a small bagful of stale memories and tricks that always pretended to work before... but none of them could help her this time. The bag fell like dead weight from her hand and shriveled into the sand.
Animals closed in and she let out a scream. Lunged, tearing at her, knocking her to the ground. The lights blackened in front of her as grey sneered, stealing vision.
Unseen demonic crowd raised to a dinning frenzy as their hero strides across the sand, sneering with another easy catch for today's brutal games. Tall proud and handsome he seems, breath fresh and skin taught over rippling muscles. Suave, a sort of dark shining... sometimes mistaken for brilliant irradiance casts a shadow about him. Only the careful would know him for a killer, liar and thief. Knife of sharks teeth, jagged and sharp he withdraws from royal purple tunic.
But there's a silent voice unheard in roaring crowd, from amoung the prisoners in the grate walks a plain man, he takes a step towards the arena, towards Suave and his easy prey. Unnoticed by demonic host with eyes fixed on the crushed figure in the arena he walks quickly to the center where evil still gloats over fallen girl.
Moaning, girls eyes flutter open again... despair again washing over her. Why must she awaken again to this nightmare? Better that it be over now. She watches with grim despair as gleaming knife is raised to over her chest, winced at the clean hand on her kneck though its touch was like scaly claws which struggling only tightens.
It amazes me to see the figure so well respected holding such a weapon above my friend. Inside of me seethes with hatred towards the bearer of this great deception. I cannot look away though, though it churns my stomach I know if you fall there is no hope for me. Behind these bars I cannot reach you.
At the very moment the knife falls a deafening shout is heard from the silent man. Guises vanish and I see before me Love, now looking as an ivory tower of majesty and strenght weilding a huge sword. Suave, shreiking, drops his prey and draws barbed mace; the rich robe he wore a moment ago suddenly seems a skimpy rag insufficient to cover his atrocity. Even from where I am I can see old wounds now on him that never healed. Savior does not even seem to be weilding the sword, his nail peirced hands are enough of a reminder to the demonic host around him that they cannot even stand in his presence... Brighter than light of day it seemed to come streaming across her face to her. Terror and awe in eyes wild around her.
I see him then, stoop to the ground to pick you up. Even before my eyes his glory and wrath is veiled again. Gentle in picking you up as he was fierce in vanquishing the hero of a moment before. I find all my adoration for you wrapped up and lost in a amazement at the fierce Love of my Savior who gave us both everything we are.
I have seen this scene before, but it leaves me speechless every time. From the moment he stood up, though, I felt this was somehow different. He looked straight at me. His glance caught my eyes and wouldn't let go. As much as I wanted to look away under this piercing (it saw through every good pretention I ever flaunted and right to the blackest part of my heart), I could not. His eyes spoke to me, and I could not believe the words they spoke.
He said, "befriend this one". "What? Me Lord? She is so brave, standing against Satan! How could I help Her?" Excited and frightened at being given such an instruction. But now he was walking towards me, now setting you on the ground again. I look at you with abated eyes, how am I to help this one who already has so much? "befriend this one". So I took your hand in friendship, and for this short time walk beside You.
I found that your hand was not a burden but a source of strenght and correction when I forgot the memory of that day in the arena. He walked beside us, Savior, until we came to the place called Now. He set you back up on your feet again.
The Savior is also the King in the place he is leading you now, keeping eyes on Him. You are free to run in His fields and praise Him evermore.
--
Encourage the others (all the more as you see the day approaching).
--
"I will never leave you nor forsake you", so we may boldly say 'The Lord is my Helper'
\\\I won't ask it, instead, pseudostory time.
She thought she was alone, in the arena, facing the jackals; in their eyes was pitiless hunger; longing to devour her. All she could see in her left hand was a small bagful of stale memories and tricks that always pretended to work before... but none of them could help her this time. The bag fell like dead weight from her hand and shriveled into the sand.
Animals closed in and she let out a scream. Lunged, tearing at her, knocking her to the ground. The lights blackened in front of her as grey sneered, stealing vision.
Unseen demonic crowd raised to a dinning frenzy as their hero strides across the sand, sneering with another easy catch for today's brutal games. Tall proud and handsome he seems, breath fresh and skin taught over rippling muscles. Suave, a sort of dark shining... sometimes mistaken for brilliant irradiance casts a shadow about him. Only the careful would know him for a killer, liar and thief. Knife of sharks teeth, jagged and sharp he withdraws from royal purple tunic.
But there's a silent voice unheard in roaring crowd, from amoung the prisoners in the grate walks a plain man, he takes a step towards the arena, towards Suave and his easy prey. Unnoticed by demonic host with eyes fixed on the crushed figure in the arena he walks quickly to the center where evil still gloats over fallen girl.
Moaning, girls eyes flutter open again... despair again washing over her. Why must she awaken again to this nightmare? Better that it be over now. She watches with grim despair as gleaming knife is raised to over her chest, winced at the clean hand on her kneck though its touch was like scaly claws which struggling only tightens.
It amazes me to see the figure so well respected holding such a weapon above my friend. Inside of me seethes with hatred towards the bearer of this great deception. I cannot look away though, though it churns my stomach I know if you fall there is no hope for me. Behind these bars I cannot reach you.
But He can.
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At the very moment the knife falls a deafening shout is heard from the silent man. Guises vanish and I see before me Love, now looking as an ivory tower of majesty and strenght weilding a huge sword. Suave, shreiking, drops his prey and draws barbed mace; the rich robe he wore a moment ago suddenly seems a skimpy rag insufficient to cover his atrocity. Even from where I am I can see old wounds now on him that never healed. Savior does not even seem to be weilding the sword, his nail peirced hands are enough of a reminder to the demonic host around him that they cannot even stand in his presence... Brighter than light of day it seemed to come streaming across her face to her. Terror and awe in eyes wild around her.
I see him then, stoop to the ground to pick you up. Even before my eyes his glory and wrath is veiled again. Gentle in picking you up as he was fierce in vanquishing the hero of a moment before. I find all my adoration for you wrapped up and lost in a amazement at the fierce Love of my Savior who gave us both everything we are.
I have seen this scene before, but it leaves me speechless every time. From the moment he stood up, though, I felt this was somehow different. He looked straight at me. His glance caught my eyes and wouldn't let go. As much as I wanted to look away under this piercing (it saw through every good pretention I ever flaunted and right to the blackest part of my heart), I could not. His eyes spoke to me, and I could not believe the words they spoke.
He said, "befriend this one". "What? Me Lord? She is so brave, standing against Satan! How could I help Her?" Excited and frightened at being given such an instruction. But now he was walking towards me, now setting you on the ground again. I look at you with abated eyes, how am I to help this one who already has so much? "befriend this one". So I took your hand in friendship, and for this short time walk beside You.
I found that your hand was not a burden but a source of strenght and correction when I forgot the memory of that day in the arena. He walked beside us, Savior, until we came to the place called Now. He set you back up on your feet again.
The Savior is also the King in the place he is leading you now, keeping eyes on Him. You are free to run in His fields and praise Him evermore.
--
Encourage the others (all the more as you see the day approaching).
--
"I will never leave you nor forsake you", so we may boldly say 'The Lord is my Helper'
Reply
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