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Patience Virtue

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By Patience Virtue
Monday, March 17, 2008

Rated "G" by the Author.

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We all have a little Sleeping Beauty complex in us.

Sleep, deep dreamless sleep. Death, deep dreamless death. Whatís the difference? For me there was none. I lay there for time beyond memory, no consciousness of my surroundings, no memory of those days, weeks, months, years. I thought it was safe there, but I guess the price for safe is too high.

I listened to the lies and killed my soul. She said it was fun, it sure looked like fun. Who would have thought it would be that dangerous? But the sting was not worth the thrill, or the consequential death.

Being a child is so much simpler than being grown-up. When I was a child I had no notion such things existed. I guess thatís the danger in overprotection, you donít know danger when itís staring you in the face. That and you can never protect someone forever.

I canít believe she lied to me! It was innocent diversion, harmless spinning, how could it be harmful? Thatís what she said, but she must have known! How could she? Now I lie here, dead and unfeeling, desperate to wake but fearful to stir. After that death, perhaps sleep is safer. Who wants to exist in a world with such hate, lies, pain, and death?

They say it doesnít have to be like this, you know. I donít have to remain dead forever. They say thereís a man with a heart of love who can rescue me from this living death, bring me to a life of love, adventure, wonder, excitementÖand yes, danger, pain, and hurt. What if it was true ? What if I didnít have to lie here forever? Could it be true ?

Ah, but itís too hard. Iíve been here too long, slept too hard, been too tired. I canít move. I canít, I canít, I canít.

Besides, who would want to rescue me? There are prettier princesses out there, smarter princesses, more accomplished princesses, princess that are easier to rescue and more worthy of the attentions of a man that great.

Who would want to rescue a Sleeping Beauty? I mean, look at all the briars up to protect the heart of this castle where I sleep. Heíll be cut, pierced, bled by thorns. What kind of man would do that for a foolish, naÔve, ignorant, selfish girl like me? No, Iíll just have to be satisfied with this miserable death-like existence.

But what if He did come? What if He was willing to give up his life to save mine? What if, Oh! What if I was that loved, truly, deeply, and completely selflessly? Oh, what I wouldnít do for a love like that! What I wouldnít give up for a life with a man like that! Oh, that it were only possible!

ButÖwhat is that? Knocking at the door? He canít really expect me to get up. Iíve lain here dead all these years. Itís too hard, too much effort, too scary to get up and move across this cold stone floor. I canít, I canít, I canít!

But His knocking, it wonít stop. He is persistent as He is loving, that I must admit. The pounding of my heart, the pounding of my head, it all beats with His gentle knock upon the door.

My name, He said my nameÖI havenít heard it spoken in so long, so longÖand with such love, longing, and compassion. Oh, Oh, Oh! Please come in, please, please, please! The screaming in my head, the noise, the pounding!

He mustnít wait there forever, He must come in. I need Him, I want Him, I love Him. The screaming, the pounding, the terror, the excitement coursing through my veins all culminate in two short, murmured, petrified syllables.

ďCome in.Ē

And come in He did, His loving arms ready to embrace me, eager to sweep me off my feet to a new life. His kisses bring me back to life; But no, not back. Changed. He has made me something new, better, more suited to His perfection. Perfectly suited to His perfection. Perfectly suited to a life of adventure with Him, following in His perfect footsteps. Perfectly.

And I have found something that makes life worth it all. Worth all of the pain, hurt, lies, deception, hate, revenge, and betrayal is the love of my Savior, my God, my Jesus for me. But I have made a discovery even more amazing. I am worth all of the cutting, piercing, bleeding, thorns, and death that He went through for me. I am worth it all. Me. Who would have thought?

And I am worth His perfect, passionate, fierce, devoted love for me, every last bit of that infinite, immeasurable, unsurpassable, love. Amazing.†

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