Caricatures of My Former Self

I stood astonished as before me lay caricatures of my former self etched with expert precision in the walls of stone. This was curious as I was sure I was traversing this landscape alone. As I walked along this stony corridor and gazed intently at each image, I noticed something equally disturbing. There were no two images exactly alike, but each had some flawed line exaggerated for effect and each had the ability of exciting strange emotions which seemed awfully familiar somehow; each distinct and uniquely connected to that exaggerated image. I did not enjoy the emotions that were aroused for they made me think of running and hiding...always running and hiding. The voices of shame, condemnation, embarrassment, humiliation, rejection, bitterness, and unforgiveness seemed to mock me from these lined drawings, as places, times, and distinct memories stirred and flashed across the canvas of my mind. I'm not sure that there is anything more gruesomely tormenting to the human heart longing to give itself to love than to have every frame of one's past failings and short comings, every hurtful word, every missed opportunity, every misguided thought, every wrong response, unmercifully played and replayed in the mind at several different angles.

Distant laughter reverberated down the corridor, it's iciness chilling me to the core. I shivered and suddenly felt winded and struggled to breathe as the frigid claws of fear sought a place from which to lay hold of me and pull me into the thick lifeless darkness. I tried to scream but found no voice, to pray but my mind seemed frozen and unable to function. If there was ever a moment that intervention was needed it was now, yet the more incessantly I fought and struggled against what seemed to be my end, the less I was able to resist this invisible foe, taunting me from every corner, surrounding me at every turn. He seemed to close in on me, the accusing voice growing increasingly louder in my covered ears, the pictures becoming increasingly more vivid and pronounced in detail as well as the negative elements of each memory seeming slightly darker than remembered.

"Who can save me from this body of death?" tumbled from my lips, as hopelessless took me and my own frailty finally forced my body to the cold hard surface. I lay still while all that was hidden suddenly unraveled itself around me, like gauze bandages surrounding the embalmed body of the dead. My world spun around and around preventing me from escaping, so with what little strength I held, I attempted to pierce through the weighty blackness, to press past the crowded memories, the screaming voices, and the deformed faces.

Scanning the sea of blackness, my eyes suddenly caught sight of a tiny point of light - just a dot in this great ocean. I focused hard on this dot, losing sight of it every so often as the great swells of darkness would rise suddenly and crash mercilessly upon me. I felt as though I were a ship caught in a mighty tempest in search of a safe harbor, a refuge from this storm. That light was like my beacon in this darkest of nights, a glimmering brightness guiding me safely home. My only hope was to keep my eyes fixed on the place where I first caught sight of it, trusting it's existence while darkness prevailed and the assault persisted.

When the light was hidden from me for long periods of time, I would grow afraid that perhaps my eyes had played a cruel trick on me...perhaps there was no light...perhaps I was going the wrong way. I would frantically search the horizon, my eyes darting this way and that, hoping to catch sight of it again. Just when the flame of my hope would be on the verge of extinguishing, there it would appear again encouraging my faith, exciting my hope, demanding my trust. This happened several times before insight and understanding suddenly struck my frame like lightning and my gaze fastened itself on the light whether hidden or manifest. I KNEW the light was there. Faith beckoned to Hope and Hope to Faith, each bearing one another up in my inner man. As each swell would crash in on me and for a moment I would catch sight of the light, something began to stir, awaken and grow within me....Love. I ached for that light to come nearer...ever nearer. I longed to be clothed in it, nay, swallowed up in it...to become one with it. Thoughts of this beautiful brilliance began to invade my mind, pushing back the hords of evil that had encamped itself around me. It seemed that as my mind became filled with light, the desire for more of it began to spread to every corner of my body, chasing away the heavy blackness, exposing the lies, revealing the truth.

My tormented mind came to rest and the devilish laughter meant to bring fear began to wail in pain as the light began to overcome the darkness....and Faith rose up to defend me. I looked upon the cavern walls where caricatures of my former self had been carved into the stone to mock my journey, to dampen my spirits, and depress my courage...and I laughed as great joy arrested my heart flowing from deep within... For though the caricatures were still visible...and still very exaggerated, across the entire wall of the cavern was etched the words, IT IS FINISHED!! in great bold scarlet letters, and a river of red flowed down.