Always

This... is a short story I wrote last night, after a discussion with my big sister Ophelia. When I wrote it, I had just read a poem Ophelia had written, so some of this story is inspired by her poems. I was just thinking about my past a whole lot while I wrote it, so it's intensely personal to me and I was rather afraid to post it. But I think it could serve as a good reminder - not just for other girls, but for guys as well. The same idea applies. I hope it is an encouragement to you.

God bless.

~~

The rain falls in the dusk, a whispering cascade of droplets cold against my face.

I huddle in the corner; against a boulder. Tears stream down my face, and I tremble.

I can hear Him approaching. My heart pounds in my head. I’m all too aware that He knows where I am; He always does. But I hold onto the vain hope that perhaps He doesn’t this time.

How can I face Him? My gown, once clean and white, is muddied and ragged now. How could I have done those things, thought those thoughts? I have fallen from His will… I have failed Him. The tears come faster now, as I hear His footsteps come nearer and nearer, finally stopping mere inches away.

I feel His hand on my shoulder, and I cringe away, thoughts whirling through my mind—the shame, the anguish, the dread of waiting for words of angry admonishment.

Instead, I hear His gentle voice say, “Come, little one. Come warm yourself.”

Too dazed to pull away, I let Him lead me to the fire flickering nearby. I lower my head, unable to meet His gaze. Now He can fully see the sorry state my once-white gown is in. I stand still, awaiting judgment.

To some surprise, instead of the punishment I expected… He gently places His hand beneath my chin and raises my face to look into my eyes. And I see then that His eyes are sad… but also brimming over with love.

I tremble as I try to choke back the tears. I want to look away. I don’t deserve the forgiveness I can sense in His eyes. I am confused. I see sorrow in his gaze, and yet… He still seems to care so deeply about me. I don’t deserve it, I don’t!

He says softly, His fingers wiping my tears away, “Oh, my dear child. I love you. You are my precious daughter.”

I pull away, mind wild with my own guilt. I stumble backwards, sobs trying to make their way from my throat. I cry out through the tears, “You wouldn’t say that if you knew who I really was! If you knew what I had done!”

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I realize how foolish the words are—of course He knows what I have done.

His voice is ever-gentle. “I already know what you have done. And I know who you truly are.”

Shaking, I cry, “Then how can you love me? Why don’t you cast me out like I deserve?”

“Little one…” He smiles sadly at me. “You have already been forgiven.”

I have no more energy to speak, and I begin to weep freely. He comes closer and puts His hands on my shoulders. Through my tears, I vaguely notice my gown become clean and white again. I feel His strong arms wrap around me, and I do not have the strength to pull away, though some part of me wishes to. A broken whisper of “How can you still love me after all I’ve done?” escapes me.

He says softly, “My dear child… I died for you. I knew everything you would do before you ever did it. I was beaten, mocked, and tortured; I died so that your stained garments could be made clean; so that your sins could be washed away.”

The sobs come now, and I feel more guilt weighing heavily on my heart. “I was the cause of Your pain… how can you still love me after what I did to you?” I whisper, still held close in His arms.

When He speaks, I can hear love mingled with sorrow in His voice. “Little one… I endured that pain because I love you. And I have already know all that you have done or will do. It has been forgiven—it has been paid for.

“I know that you stumble. I know the doubts you will feel and the mistakes you will make. You are still growing, my dear daughter. But no matter how you fall, no matter how you sin… My blood has made you new. I will always love you. And I will never let you go.”