And I have been there. At that moment. That moment of utter fear and even disgust. That moment where everything in me is broken and ugly and has presented itself to me as vile and monstrous. When I am absolutely desperate, beyond description of emotion.
"Take away everything," I cry out, "if only I can be clean, if only I can be close to You, if only I can break away from powers of darkness over me!" Let me fast, though I am terribly self-conscious of being thin, until this evil is wholly disconnected from me. Let me wake up in the middle of the night and pray until morning. Let me disconnect myself from all the things I love.
But then, I hear a voice. It is not my self-deprivation, my self-disgust, my self-suffering that will save myself. No, I cannot save myself at all!
And, I hear shouts and trumpets. Glory marching. "Quiet Emily," an angel shushes me, as I ramble on about ways I can get rid of my sin. And then, there, I look up, the sound thunders, the light gets brighter. And though I tremble, I cannot even think of the terror of me and my monstrous sin in this holy place; no, my self- consciousness is lost as I can think of nothing but the glory approaching.
And then silence.
I feel faint, look white, could fall over at any moment, breaths short, body trembling.
And there... He appears. Like nothing I could ever have imagined.
My breath is taken away completely now. Like a deer, I am caught, paralyzed.
Yet, lest I die of utter fear and awe, this Holy of Holy of Holy stops at me, tilts His head as He smiles softly. He says MY name. Reaches out His hand to take MINE. And, with words of authority and finality, says, "It is covered."
My heart skips a beat, and I gasp in my first breath.
At these words, I dare to focus my eyes on His.
Though questioning how this could be true, I don't doubt. Because His voice cannot lie.
He asks if I will go with Him and I say yes. I cannot take my eyes off of His face.
And there, my moment, of remorse, is forgotten, and I go to live with Him, my Love, for ever and ever and ever.
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