My heart is in love with the King. Will He let me in? I am timid and afraid. A flower unknown, but I feel as if the King knows me. I move forward and the lines of His face begin to look familiar. Like a childhood memory. Can it be? How could the King be my childhood friend? I was a beggar’s child after all. The wild dogs and other poor children had been my playmates. I draw closer to the King and begin to recognize Him as my Lover. I had other lovers before…but never would they amount to the love that the King had so ravished me with. He had met me in my most lonely and desperate times, but I had carelessly left Him for other loves..which, all had become a crutch of oppression or false freedom in my life. They took my heart and ran, but the King, He had spent days within the garden of my heart. He kept me, and I remembered, I had never had a love like Him. I took one more step and my heart began to speak an irregular beat. I was close enough to see the King’s hands. The eyes of my heart lit with fire…those familiar hands..they were like my Father’s. I was an abandon child. Nights I would weep with loneliness, but maybe it was just because of the knot in my stomach for lack of food. I roamed the streets alone, looking for pennies and dimes..sometimes falling upon a quarter. Some days I had food..others none at all. Then one day, I met a man with kind hands. Hands like the King. He took me in and He loved me. He gave me bread and more love than I could have ever asked for. I grew to be a careless child though, I used my Father’s gifts that He had given me, all for the wrong reasons though. I spent all the money that He has given me on useless things, but still He loved me. And even when I decided to leave, He still welcomed me back with open arms and open heart. My heart had never fully opened to the Father..still He cared for me. I stepped closer. Now my breathing began to shorten. He looked me in the eyes. I tried to look away, but I could not. The light in them seemed to dance in small pieces through the air. I looked at His brow. There were small scars lining his head like a crown. I winced at the thought of being stabbed in the head. Something caused me to look back down at His hands. Two gaping holes followed through both wrists, also His feet..His feet had been pierced through. And I began to cry. A long time ago, I had been placed in prison for some poor actions I had made. So heinous and vile were my acts, that I was sentenced life in prison. I had no desire to live, so I let my body and spirit waste away in the cold, damp cell. I took no part in the joy of living, and I became as a dead man breathing. Then came a Man. He would often walk by the window of my cell..I could see He had holes in his feet, but I never ventured to lift my body to see what the Man looked like. I was too sorry in my state of eternal depravity. The days outside my cell began to grow brighter, and often a few beams of light would make their way through my small window. When this happened it seemed like there was glitter floating through my cell. I began to enjoy these moment, but I remained possessive of my hardened heart and fought hard to keep it as dark and cold as my cell. One morning my door had been left open. I remained motionless in the dark corner, and starred, waiting for someone to walk through. No one ever did. I sat there for days not knowing what to do. Finally I crept over to the side of my cell so I could see what had been posted on the door. There had been a paper nailed over my accusations. It fluttered gently in the wind. I very carefully shifted my body over to the right so I could see the words.
The words had been written in red ink. I did not understand. I began to rationalize things in my head; sometimes yelling things like, ‘can anyone hear me?’. I did this for an entire week, and still no one ever came to my open door. I grew weak and dizzy, sometimes delirious, but still the door remained open. Then one morning a flash of white went across the entry of my door. I screamed, ‘Wait!’, but failed to make a sound for the lack of strength in my body was as nothing. Then He appeared. I knew it was Him..the Man who would walk by my window. And although I had never seen His face before, He seemed like an old friend to me. He was saying something to me, but I could not hear him. Then my ears were opened. He spoke in a gentle voice, ‘I paid your debt. You are free. Won’t you come out of this dark cell?’ I blinked. My vision began to restore. ‘Rise up’ said the Man, ‘I have prepared a home for you’. I felt a surge of strength and I stood. Then I stepped toward the open door. Fear began to cease, and I followed my Saviour through the door.
I trembled as I finally reached the throne of the King. I fell at His feet and began to weep. My hands held His feet and I touched the holes in them. I quietly began to sing,
‘My King…all for my King..my King’
Light encased us and He spoke,