By His Strength

Having been formed, I walked. My path was twisted and strange, but I continued onward, for I knew not where else to turn. And as I walked, I came in the course of time upon a forest, and I entered, for this was where my path led. Looking to the side, I found a mirror, and thinking it strange to see such an object out in these untamed lands, I turned aside to see it. Gazing upon my reflection, I saw the filth of my journey. I had walked for long, not stopping to bathe or cleanse myself. For though I had tried once or twice before, I was unable to make myself clean. So I had ceased mine efforts and had continued walking, gathering ever more dust and grime as I did. I looked into the mirror, and spake, “filthy.” As I did so, the word came forth from my mouth as a dagger, hitting the glass and being reflected. It came back to hit me in the side, and it drew blood. I knew then what the mirror was for, and I knew what must be done. “Disgusting, wretched!” Knives flew once more, and again, they struck me. Knowing that it was no more than I deserved, I prepared myself again, but heard a voice.

“Follow Me.” I turned and found a Man, Whom I knew not. “I will make you new,” said He. “Will you follow Me?”

“I will,” responded I, and He smiled upon me. Turning to the mirror, expecting to see another form, I was pained to see only myself, and lashed out at the image. “Worthless! Damaged, terrible, vile!” My words shot forth and hit the mirror, but I watched in horror as they did not reflect upon myself, but upon the Man Whom I had met. Nails, my words did form, which shot at Him and pinned Him to a tree, which He resisted not. A crowns of thorns, my words formed also, which was put upon His head. I collapsed on the ground, helpless to do anything but watch, as the words I had uttered beat Him and bruised Him. Finally, as He hung on the tree, He spoke.

“It is finished,” said He, and gave up his life. Tears ran down my face at the atrocity of what I had done. I felt unworthy, but as nobody else was near, I felt it my duty to bury Him. I brought Him down and did so, then curled myself up to die. I neither ate nor drank, wasting away as there was naught left for me.

Three days, I did lie, waiting for death to greet me, but when at last I prepared to give up my spirit, I heard once more the voice of before. Only once had I heard this voice as yet, but I remembered it well. In surprise, I looked, and beheld the Man Whom I had slain.

“Follow Me,” He said. “I will make you new. Will you follow Me?” As fresh tears ran down my face, I looked once more into the mirror. What I beheld was not what I had once known, but was a form that was clean and pure. I looked down at myself, and again into the glass, and did not understand, for while I knew what had changed, I yet was the same. Still, I was one who was disgusting and vile, and yet I was new, and I could not comprehend. That I was not worthy or deserving was all I could know.

“Guide me,” I answered, “and I will follow You.”

He embraced me, and I wept, and when I was released, He spake and said, “the path is not an easy one. But I will be there.” I turned, and behold, my path was changing before mine eyes, to no longer be twisted. And I walked. I felt pain, and sorrow. And yet, as I walked, I remembered the One Who had sent me. As I met others upon the road, I spread to them the gift that had been given to me. And by His strength, I lived.