The Decision

Coming towards the throne of the King. 

My heart catches in my throat. Just like it does every time I see Him. 
There is something about Him, His throne, His voice...it touches every emotion.  It simultaneously stirs desire and satisfies it.

I love this place. 
I pass through the veil, and it falls behind me, leaving us alone. Just me and my God.

"What is Your command, my King?"

I'm in love, I'll do anything.

He tells me. 

The beauty of the moment comes crashing to a halt. All the joy of His Presence vanishes. 
What He asked challenges everything I WANT. It grates on my pleasure. It opposes my will.  Suddenly I am no longer walking through fields with my Lover, 


I am standing at a fork in the road with Him beckoning from one way and Self calling from the other.

I can't do what He wants. I cannot. It's too hard. 

I turn to Him, pleading with tears for Him not to ask this of me. Please, Lord, let there be another way!

He is unrelenting. 


That is what He wants, and nothing less will do.

I find myself turning to go. 

Past the veil of glory. Away from the sweet incense of a prayerful heart. Turning from the bronze laver where I was washed clean. Avoiding the altar. Outside the gates of praise to the dry desert called Confusion beyond.

Trying to find a way to please Self and Him. 
Two lovers calling, wooing.
I must choose one.

I survey the two paths.

The path of Self, I see many are on that path already. 


See, there is Samson. Mighty, weak Samson. The man of strong arms and faulty spirit who desired his enemy lovers above the purity of his call. Should I join him?

There, too, I see Lot. Intelligent, foolish Lot. The man who made smart decisions with his purse and poor with his family. The man who vexed his soul daily as he tried to prove that he could live in wickedness and not be singed. He stands by a pillar of salt...

Oh look, there too is Saul. Saul, the king with something to prove. Always a better idea, when he didn't consider God's good enough. I could walk with Saul and converse with him...we have much in common.

The path of Self-Denial. A cross marks the entrance of this way. I shudder and quickly shift my gaze beyond it.

Look, Queen Esther, I can see her, the beautiful queen marching confidently to sure death at the request of her God. She saved a nation.

Further on Abraham, the stranger in the strange land. The seeker of an incorruptible inheritance. No palace, no comfort, just the hard ground of patience and the bright vision of promise. He birthed a nation.

Caleb, I see, too. Unwavering, undiscourageable Caleb. The 80-year-old giant killer with indefatigable faith, standing against an entire people in the company of the loyal. 
He led a nation into promise.

Then...wait! Can it be...? Further down I see a man kneeling...sobbing...pleading. "Let this cup pass..." Oh, how well I recognize that cry.  Was I not recently pleading the same? "Yet not My will but Yours be done!"

Wait! I recognize that voice... 

It is my Lover Himself! I had forgotten that once my Jesus stood where I stand now. Once He faced the decision I now have to make. How could I have forgotten?  He made this choice. He made it for me! He died to have a chance of winning my affection.

What I fair weather lover I've been, to even consider another option. I said I would follow and at the first opposition, I fled. 


Forgive me, my Friend, I have been disloyal.

I find myself turning...fleeing...running away from Self and all it's finite charms. 
Running straight into the everlasting arms of the One who loved me first...who walked this Way first...who conquered Self first.

Sweet peace.

Dear satisfaction.

I'm back where I belong. 
Desire piqued and quenched simultaneously in an endless romance.

There is one thing remaining to be said. It starts a cry of sacrifice and ends a laugh of triumph...

"Not my will, but YOURS be done!"