Piercing the Darkness (65 page)

“Excuse me. This is difficult. There are a lot of years involved, a lot of emotion.” Another deep breath. “Anyway, I was trying to say that . . . I would like very much for You to accept me.” She stopped and let the tightness in her throat ease. “Because . . . I’ve been told that You love me, and that You’ve arranged for all my wrongs, my moral trespasses, to be paid for and forgiven. I’ve come to understand that Jesus died to pay my penalty, to satisfy Your holy justice. Um . . . I appreciate that. Thank You for that kind of love.

“But I . . . I want to enter into that kind of relationship with You. Somehow. I have wronged You, and I have ignored You, and I have tried to be a god myself, as strange as that may sound to You. I have served other spirits, and I have killed my own offspring, and I’ve worked so hard to lead so many astray . . .”

The tears were coming again. Oh, well. Considering the subject matter, a few tears would not be inappropriate.

“But if You will have me . . . if You will only accept me, I would be more than willing to hand over to You all that I am, and all that I have, whatever it may be worth.” Words from thirty years ago came to her mind, and they captured her feelings perfectly. “Jesus . . .”

She couldn’t stop the emotions this time. Her face flushed, her eyes filled, and she was afraid to go on.

But she did go on, even as her voice broke, as tears ran down her cheeks, as her body began to quake. “Jesus . . . I want You to come into my heart. I want You to forgive me. Please forgive me.”

She was crying and she couldn’t stop. She had to get out of there. She couldn’t let anyone see her like this.

She grabbed her duffel bag and hurried away from the pond, turning off the walkway into the nearby trees. Under their sheltering, spring-fresh leaves, she found a small clearing and sank to her knees on the cool, dry ground. With a new freedom that seclusion brought, the heart of stone became a heart of flesh, the deepest cries of that heart
became a fountain, and she and the Lord God began to talk about things as the minutes slipped by unnoticed and the world around her became unimportant.

ABOVE, AS IF
another sun had just risen, the darkness opened, and pure, white rays broke through the treetops, flooding Sally Beth Roe with a heavenly light, shining through to her heart, her innermost spirit, obscuring her form with a blinding fire of holiness. Slowly, without sensation, without sound, she settled forward, her face to the ground, her spirit awash with the presence of God.

All around her, like spokes of a wondrous wheel, like beams of light emanating from a sun, angelic blades lay flat upon the ground, their tips turned toward her, their handles extending outward, held in the strong fists of hundreds of noble warriors who knelt in perfect, concentric circles of glory, light, and worship, their heads to the ground, their wings stretching skyward like a flourishing, animated garden of flames. They were silent, their hearts filled with a holy dread.

As in countless times past, in countless places, with marvelous, inscrutable wonder, the Lamb of God stood among them, the Word of God, and more: the final Word, the end of all discussion and challenge, the Creator and the Truth that holds all creation together—most wondrous of all, and most inscrutable of all, the
Savior
, a title the angels would always behold and marvel about, but which only mankind could know and understand.

He had come to be the Savior of this woman. He knew her by name; and speaking her name, He touched her.

And her sins were gone.

A rustling began in the first row of angels, then in the next, and then, like a wave rushing outward, the silken wings from row upon row of warriors caught the air, raising a roar, and lifted the angels to their feet. The warriors held their swords Heavenward, a forest of fiery blades, and began to shout in tumultuous joy, their voices rumbling and shaking the whole spiritual realm.

Guilo, as brilliantly glorified as ever he was, took his place above them all, and swept his sword about in burning arcs as he shouted, “Worthy is the Lamb!”

“Worthy is the Lamb!” the warriors thundered.

“Worthy is the Lamb!” Guilo shouted more loudly.

“Worthy is the Lamb!” they all answered.

“For He was slain!”

“For He was slain!”

Guilo pointed his sword at Sally Beth Roe, prostrate, her face to the ground, still communing with her newfound Savior. “And with His blood He has purchased for God the woman, Sally Beth Roe!”

The swords waved, and their light pierced the darkness as lightning pierces the night. “He has purchased Sally Beth Roe!”

“Worthy is the Lamb who was slain,” Guilo began, and then they all sang the words together with voices that shook the earth, “to receive power and wealth and wisdom and strength and honor and glory and praise!”

Then came another roar, from voices and from wings, and another flashing of hundreds of swords. The wings took hold, and the skies filled with warriors, swirling, shouting, cheering, worshiping, their light washing over the earth for miles around.

MILES AWAY, SOME
of Destroyer’s demons covered their eyes against the blinding light.

“Oh no!” said one. “Another soul redeemed!”

“One of our prisoners set free!” wailed another.

A quick, sharp-eyed spy returned from taking a closer look.

“Who is it this time?” they asked.

The spirit answered, “You will not like the news!”

TAL AND GUILO
embraced, jumping, spinning, laughing. “Saved! Sally Beth Roe is saved! Our God has her at last!”

They remained, along with their warriors, keeping the hedge about her strong and brilliant, making sure her conference with the Lord would proceed undisturbed.

Time passed, of course, but no one seemed to notice or care.

Later—she didn’t know how much later—Sally pressed her palms against the earth and slowly lifted herself to a sitting position, brushing
dry leaves and humus from her clothes and using a handkerchief to wipe her face. She had been through an uncanny, perfectly marvelous experience, and the effect still lingered. A change, a deep, personal, moral restoration had taken place, not just in her subjective perceptions, but in fact. This was something new, something truly extraordinary.

“So this must be what they mean by ‘getting saved,’” she said aloud.

Things were different. The Sally Roe who first ducked into these woods was not the same Sally Roe that now sat in the leaves, a trembling, awestruck, tear-stained, happy mess.

Before, she had felt lost and aimless. Now she felt secure, safe in God’s hands.

Before, her life had no meaning. Now it did, with even more purpose and meaning yet to be discovered.

Before, she had been oppressed and laden with guilt. Now she was cleansed. She was free. She was forgiven.

Before, she was so alone. Now she had a Friend closer than any other.

AS FOR HER
old friends, her tormentors . . .

Outside that hedge, thrown there like garbage into a dumpster, Despair, Death, Insanity, Suicide, and Fear sulked in the bushes, unable to return. They looked at each other, ready to squabble should any one of them dare to say the first word.

They were out. Vanquished. Through. Just like that. Somehow, she’d no sooner become a child of God than she began to assert her rights and authority as such. She didn’t say a lot, she didn’t make it flowery. She simply ordered them out of her life.

“She learns fast,” said Despair.

The others spit at him just for saying it.

“THIS IS MARVELOUS,”
she said to herself, chuckling in amazement and ecstasy. “Just marvelous!”

Tal and Guilo were watching, enjoying every moment.

“‘The word of her testimony and the blood of the Lamb,’” said Tal.

Guilo nodded. “That’s two.”

“Captain Tal!” came a shout. A courier dropped from the sky like a meteor, snapping his wings open just in time to alight directly in front of Tal. “Mota sends word from Bacon’s Corner! The prayers have brought a breakthrough! They’ve opened the breach, sir! They’re ready to expose Broken Birch!”

Tal laughed with excitement. “Well enough! The kindling is stacked, and”—he looked at Sally—“we now have the match to start the brushfire! Nathan and Armoth!”

“Captain!” they replied.

“Sally’s ready. Follow her from here on, and be sure Krioni and Triskal are warned to secure Ashton from invasion. When she lights the brushfire, sound the signal for Mota and Signa in Bacon’s Corner.”

“Done!”

“Cree and Si, establish your armies at the Omega Center. When the fire reaches there, send it on to Bentmore.”

They were gone immediately.

“Chimon and Scion, prepare armies at Bentmore; be ready to send the fire on to Summit.”

They soared away.

Tal turned to the courier. “Tell Mota and Signa that they have the prayer cover and can proceed closing the trap. After that, have them wait for the signal from Nathan and Armoth.”

The courier flew off with the message.

Tal put a brotherly hand on Guilo’s shoulder. “Guilo, the Strength of Many, it’s time to position the armies at the Summit Institute!”