Part 36 (1/2)
It was dark.
I was lying in my bed.
And every inch of my body was soaked.
27.
IT WAS DARK and every inch of my body was wet and I thought, Dear G.o.d, was that real?
I didn't necessarily mean it as a prayer, but that's how it came out, and immediately I knew the answer, as if a voice deep in my soul had answered.
Yes, Eden. More real than anything you have ever experienced.
I closed my eyes, and a gentle portion of the staggering truth I'd just observed washed through me. My body began to shake, from my head to my feet, and my breathing came in deep, heavy pulls.
I didn't dare move because I was smothered by a knowing of good news so profound that I could barely grasp it, and at the same time so outlandishly contrary to the beliefs my mother had drilled into me that I was afraid I might forget the goodness of that news.
In reality, I was invulnerable, and nothing-no power on earth or in heaven or under the earth or under the heavens-could separate me from the infinite love that held me secure, right then, as I lay trembling in bed.
Not Kathryn; no, she was only a lost soul trying to find her own way.
Not Zeke; no, he was only a spoiled child who did what he thought to be right in his own eyes.
Not the loss of my childhood; no, that was only a story of the past.
Not my captivity, nor my broken leg, nor anything that happened to this body because Eden was only my costume.
I was lying on my back in the darkness, I knew that, but it seemed like I was also above my body, watching what wasn't myself at all. The form below me was only a sh.e.l.l in which I temporarily resided. A sled on which to slide down the snowy hill. A car on a roller coaster in which to take the ride.
A boat on the stormy seas of life, to be stepped out of because I was a water walker, unaffected by the storm unless I clung to that boat.
There are no words to express how I felt in that moment as the truth raced through me, not on rails of reason, but on rails of a far deeper, infinite knowingness flowing with a bottomless peace that pa.s.sed any understanding I had ever sought, much less embraced.
I think the awareness of that truth affected me more profoundly as I lay awake than it had in my dream. Every cell in my body vibrated with certainty, all in perfect symmetry and union. I had never felt so whole and complete as I felt at that moment in that house, which was also just a temporary holding place, like my body, like the roller-coaster car, like the boat I'd clung to with all of my strength.
I was free. I never had been a captive. I was whole! Nothing could hurt me. All of the threats had been of my own making because I'd mistaken my body for the real me, and my place as Kathryn's suffering daughter for far more than it was-just a temporary role.
All of this came to me in the s.p.a.ce of one breath and I couldn't contain the grat.i.tude that welled up in me. Tears began to flow from my eyes, and once they started, there was no stopping them.
Great sobs silently wracked my quivering body. I was gripped in the embrace of peace and love, a drug so powerful that even a hint of disappointment or an ounce of grievance could not be known in its presence. And without the slightest disappointment or grievance, only intoxicating love remained.
I could feel slight, throbbing pain my right leg, gently reminding me that it was broken, but I didn't care, you see? I wasn't disappointed by the condition of that right appendage down there. What could it possibly matter? In fact, I was so lost in grat.i.tude and peace that I couldn't remember why a broken leg had ever mattered more than a broken blade of gra.s.s underfoot. Both would soon heal. Or not.
I don't know how long I lay awake because each moment felt like an eternity to me. Time didn't seem to exist in that place of being. It was ticking away, naturally, but I would only notice this in retrospect without being able to quantify those ticks with labels, like seconds or minutes or hours.
So I don't know how long it was before I heard the whisper from my dreams, reminding me of my purpose. Outlaw had said it on the lake, but now I heard it come from me, spoken by a gentle, prodding, female voice.
You have been given the power to forgive sin . . .
Yes.
And how staggering is that power.
”Yes,” I said aloud, eyes still closed. Then again, weeping with it. ”Yes . . .”
True vision is his gift, allowing you to see beyond all blame.
”Yes . . .”
Forgiveness is your only true function in this life.
”Yes . . . yes.”
Seventy times seven, always, leaving the old self in a watery grave and rising to find no fault.
And then I couldn't speak because in that moment I knew the course before me with such clarity that it robbed me of breath. So I said it with all of my mind and all of my heart.
Yes! Yes, I will! I will, I will, I will . . . I lay in bed with tears streaming down my face, repeating the same words over and over in my mind, embracing them, loving them.
I will, I will, I will, I will . . .
”What's wrong?”
The voice came from the door and it confused me, because nothing was wrong.
”Eden?”
I let my eyes flutter open and I saw that morning was coming.
”Why are you all wet?”
I slowly turned my head and looked at the door. There, dressed in a pale-blue, flowered nightgown, stood my mother, arms at her sides, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.
This was Kathryn, my birth mother, who'd subjected Eden to countless challenges to her self-worth. There stood the woman who had drowned the me I used to know in the waters of condemnation and guilt every week, every month, every year, determined to purge me of my endless failure. There was the one who'd attempted to break my leg and then blessed the man who had.
But that's not what I saw.
I saw a woman who was blinded in her own suffering.
I saw a mother confused by a role that she'd tried desperately to fulfill.
I saw an innocent child who felt abandoned by love and worth because she didn't understand either.
I saw an astoundingly n.o.ble being, loved without blame by her Father and not knowing it, and therefore utterly lost.
I saw . . . I saw myself.