A Man's journey from hopelessness to salvation |
I walked along a road paved with the flesh of slaughtered dreams, wet with the tears of hopelessness. My soul hung on me like wet towel, weighing me down, my legs were paralyzed with lethargic indifference, but stubbornly walked on toward the nothing which was my future. Behind me was an infinite abyss. Ahead of me was infinite confusion, fear, and uncertainty. The only thing to break the monotony of this bleak walk from nowhere to nothing was the occasional scavenger coming to take its share from my hide, and I would feel guilt for not giving it more. Countless times I played games with myself, telling myself I could make it, feeling the grit of my self deception scrape my pride from my being, occasionally to replace it with arrogance or lust. Lust for something I'd never known. And though I'd never known it, I knew it could help me. It was something in me, or something I could get. Something to hold. Something to call my own. I believed. I believed. Then the devil who paved this road, he gave me the thing I lusted for. He shackled it to my wrists, and my ankles, and the thing I thought would save me became an abuser. And I walked on down the road. One day I came to a bridge, a wooden, rickety, worn, beaten bridge. It branched off of the road I was traveling. It had a sign which said, "Cross" I looked behind me, and I looked ahead of me, the road was familiar. It was barren, sullen, dark, and hard, but it was familiar. The bridge was thin, and it was unstable I had too much to carry, too much weight. So I walked on down the road. I was plagued with wonder. What if... But soon I was convinced I had done the right thing. I had saved myself. And I walked on in misery. Time passed as slowly as learning from mistakes and soon my feet were raw and I smelled of failure. My nostrils betrayed me and joined the attack and I wondered What had I done? Why did this happen to me? I fell. I wanted to lie on the ground weeping, dying, but my body picked itself up and carried on. I soon came to a bridge. the bridge branched off of the path and it had a sign which read "Cross". It was the very same bridge as before. I glanced at my load, I was so tired, but I knew that bridge couldn't hold me. As I walked on down the road. My mind was torn apart, wondering what might have been. Perhaps, should I see the bridge again, I would try it out; falling couldn't be worse than the road. I aged as I wandered, the trials added to my bondings. My face became hard, and set. My eyes became dark and sunken. My heart pumped blood of bitterness. It was a long time before I saw the bridge again. I almost walked on past it. The damage was done. I no longer held the childish notion that there was something better than the road. I stopped. I took a moment to set down my burdens, but they were chained to all parts of my person, and I couldn't get rest. The sign on the bridge said "Cross" I was no longer sure that I could even stand up. There was nothing in me, and the nothing seared to the murky depths of my losses and wasted hopes. With no reason to get up I settled for defeat, but then I heard the bridge creak. I looked across the bridge and there was a figure like me, but he had no weight and as much as I became my surroundings, this figure defied them and I had to shield my eyes. "Do you need a hand?" He asked. "Why?" I said. "Would you like some help?" He asked. "There is no such thing." I said. "Let me help you." He said. The weight, which I could no longer hold, he lifted with one hand. I expected the bridge would sway as the two of us stepped on it, but it was solid, and it didn't move. Every step I took became easier, and easier, and easier. "Where are we going?" I asked. "There's a better way." He said. The bridge was longer than it appeared. As I crossed, my despair peeled off of me, and was replaced with hope. The hope spread through me like the expansion of wings. I noticed all at once, my burdens had disappeared, my weariness transformed to strength, and my age became my youth. "I feel so free!" I exclaimed. "What happened to my troubles?" He pointed behind us and I looked. I saw my sorrows nailed to the bridge. On the horizon I saw something strange. It was like nothing I had seen before. I had not even a word to call it. "What is that?" I asked. The figure smiled, "Light." The light came in many appearances. Everything seemed to have its own light. "This is... this is..." I stammered, having no conception of what to name it. The figure smiled again, "Wonderful?" "Yes!" I exclaimed. We soon came to the end of the bridge and I saw many bridges and many other figures just like me. All of their eyes widened, and we felt affection for one another, and as though carried by something not of ourselves we expressed that affection through words, and actions. "What are all these?" I asked. "These are saved." He said. "Saved?" I repeated. "Are there more?" The figure chuckled, "Yes." "Are you saved?" The figure shook his head. "Saviour." He then told me about the road. I was never meant for the road. There were still others on the road. "I never saw any others in all my time there." I said. "Everyone has their own road." He said. He then took me to a bridge and he told me to cross. I did not know why he was sending me back, but somehow I knew it was best. He told me I was safe and I believed. I believed. I crossed the bridge, and I came upon a figure, one like I had been, it seemed so long ago. He lay on the road, being crushed by his fear, his hate, his anger, his lust, his pride, his failures, and I felt a pain inside me for him. It was then that I realized, the one called saviour, he was inside me. I looked at the soul on the ground, and I said, "Do you need a hand?" |