I'm sitting in the dark.
I lift up my head from the ball that I've been curled into and unfold my hand so that my palm is millimeters from my face, so close I can feel my own breath ricochet onto my cheek. The warmth of it comforts me. All else is cold.
Time has lost its rhythm. I have forgotten now, how long I have been in the dark. The light is but a memory now, flashes of light that dart across my minds eye. Memories hang like orbs in my spirit, memories that fade even now.
I had left Him. I remember that, a painful red thought that had branded itself onto my forehead. I had left Him standing in the sunshine, eyes full of love. There was no anger with Him. There never was.
He doesn't want to see me now.
We had been walking in the highlands, the lands that I loved. I knew them well, for they were my own, part of me, part of the spirit that had birthed in me my song and my joy. We had stopped short of the cave, His hand tugging mine as He tried to walk on. I did not move. I knew what was beyond. I knew what lay within. And full of shame, I knew I couldn't let him come in any farther.
I had looked at him one last time, let go of His hand, disappeared into the shadows and left Him behind, for I could never let Him see. He could not love me like that, could not save me from the darkness that covered the deep places. I had to face them alone, to find victory or defeat.
At least that's what I used to think.
He had told me that He had loved me before I knew what love was. He had told me that He was love, that love would win in the end, that He saw the things I hid and yearned to sit with me in the midst and in the mess of them. I didn't understand then. I still didn't. These thoughts swirled and swept over me now, surrounding me.
How much love is Love, really? How much love can you love me with, Oh God? Can you see into the deepest part and still love all of Me? Am I afraid to let You in past what I know? I feel the swell of love unseen, but I cannot let You see that place, the darkness that I hide away so deep that I forget the place it rests. There's land in me I do not know. I cower in corners. And still you come to me and tell me that You do not see the blackness of the air in here. I know there are fairer lands to run, they're further up and further in.
~
Waves, crashing and breaking over the worn wood of the ship.
Still, darkness.
They shook me awake. That's right, I was still running.
Everyone shouted, cascades of words interjected among the waves. I knew I would drown, but peace washed over me.
Love came, again.
"I am Jonah. I worship the Lord, the God of Heaven, the God of Love, who made the dry land and the sea alike."
(Author's Note: Most Bible stories were preserved through centuries of songs and stories passed from generation to generation. I challenge you to re-read books like Job again, and ask questions like these, questions you've been to afraid to ask before.)
