The outlands called,
Beckoning with enchanting appeal,
Imploring, cajoling, enticing—
“There is more out there”.
“Your soul could never be satisfied within these bounds”.
She draws to the edge,
And then retreats, not sure what her next move should be.
What would she do?
Where would she go?
Streams still flowed.
The garden still bloomed.
The sun, golden, was still a resplendent reminder of the meaning of faithfulness
And hope—
No matter how dark the night, a new day would dawn again.
She draws to the edge again, lingering this time.
She begins to consider the opportunities these bounds keep her from.
“There’s a whole world out there waiting to be discovered”, a voice whispered in the wind.
She draws back, “I’m not ready”.
“No one ever is”, temptation replies.
“I’m not prepared”.
“You will be”, it hissed.
What would she do?
Where would she go?
She circles the bounds,
Reaching out a hand,
Then another.
The gentle breeze that greeted her made it easy to decide.
She takes one last look at the streams, the garden, and the sun.
Then she digs a hole around the hedge—
Cautiously at first,
And then with impatient frenzy.
The longer she dug, the more she was captured by that enchanting appeal.
She continues to dig until strange winds start to blow.
The hedge was broken.
Now she can see what was not clear from within the bounds.
A river did indeed flow outside.
But its redness was not the reflection of the sun—
It was a river of blood.
And what had looked like precious stones were sticks, and bones, and congealed hope—
Hope melted, then hard-set, taking on a strange form, now useless.
What would she do?
Where would she go?
The hedge is broken.
Strange winds continue to blow.
Her blood would feed the river.
The sun continued to shine.
The garden continued to bloom.
Streams continued to flow.
Her bounds had been her safety.
She could see it now—
Now that she had lost it.
The sun continued to shine, relentless in its purpose as a resplendent reminder of the meaning of faithfulness.
And hope—
No matter how dark the night, a new day would dawn again.
Days came and went,
And the sun continued to shine.
Unknowing souls joined the party, feeding the outlands river with their blood, their bones, and their hope.
But the sun continued to shine,
Calling, imploring, beseeching—
“Return within the bounds for within the hedge is fullness of life”
What would she do?
Where would she go?
She reaches within and finds something that surprises her.
It looks like the seed of hope, and with time, it strengthens her, enabling her to look again at what she had given up.
She finds a chorus within the bounds,
They’re singing, pleading, calling—
“Return”, they say, “Return. Return”.
What would she do?
Where would she go?
The seed of hope flutters within,
Strengthening her, enabling her, making the vision clear.
She arises,
Pushing back cords and strings that had held her in this river of blood.
She challenges the lies that had eroded her knowledge of the truth.
Her only argument, “My Father is waiting for me. I will return. I will return”.
She takes a leap of faith….
Now she joins the chorus—
“This is where you should be”.
“This is what you should do”.
“Return. Return. Return. Your Father is waiting for you”.
*****
I will arise and go to my Father…. (Luke 15:18)
… there is joy in the presence of the angels of God…. (Luke 15:10)