You've been swimming so long under the thick, unrelenting ice encrusted water, desperate for a break in the frozen ceiling. You had no idea you could stay under so long. Has it been minutes, hours, days? Perhaps years of swimming and swimming and swimming, always looking up for a beacon of a hole; your lungs bursting for the sweet taste of warm, free air. Suddenly you see it, the longed for break and you burst into the opening, lungs gasping for life giving air, life above the ice.
There is the first hint of hope intermingled with disbelief at the possibility of this kind of life. You want to believe it but quickly you remind yourself of all the evidence to the contrary. There is this tension between the two realms but you realize this startling interjection of new hope has caused a shift. You are now thirsty and hungry for something very new, yet very old.
We all started much the same, open, trusting, but the zing of hurtful arrows and the hurled sling-slung stones have done their job. Wounded, you live in a greyed-out world of going through the motions under the ice. The creeping weed of cynicism seems more real, more wise as you gasp you way along the edges of life. Wounded and alone you find others in the same state and attempt colorless community.
Perhaps the community is a circle of friends from work, your common bond bringing some thin sense of belonging. Or maybe you've chosen a religious community, the teaching inculcates sets of truths and dogma into your mind. But there is still a deep sense of aloneness as you wander through the hoops laid out for you. The A + B = C approach has failed you but you know of nothing else to do.
Suddenly a bursting flare in the night sky briefly illumines. Another flare arises and your eyes follow the arc to it's source. There is something or someone who wants you. The deeper truth of your heart has been pierced, a territory long forgotten in your attempts at survival in a world bent on your destruction. Something has come to light within.
Your eyes focus and see the smiling man, quiver full of lightening arrows and without noticing you've moved closer to him. With sudden warmth and joy you know this is Jesus. Not just the Jesus of religion but a real man standing with the offer of a new life, a new heart. You embrace this man of sorrows who knows your grief. You've found home.
"Follow me", he says, and you do.
