Desert Flower

by emilysafe

Can an entire war rage inside one person?

Can a single soul contain the conflict of a thousand creatures, warriors of Heaven and Hades, pushing, pulling, suffocating and saving over and over? I feel as if the polar forces of the Universe are coexisting inside of my chest, a brutal harmony – not between good and evil, but between truth and confusion.

The noise is astounding. In my ears the clashing of swords, the angelic choirs, the gnashing of teeth, the wails and screams. Oh how it aches!

I ask you, will my body split in two?
Can the Flesh bleed for the woes of the Spirit?

I seek comfort in the world around me but it is barren. A wasteland where cynics breed, where the Enemy feasts on the harvest of its corruption. All judge me because I am an alien in their land. A strange creature who loves invisible things. And all the while the war racks my tiny body. A bloody pinprick on the Earth.

Who will fight for me?
It would be so easy to slip into oblivion, to shut my heart and fall.

But then – from out of the wilderness comes a whisper. What is this? It rushes across the vast flat sands and knocks me down, down, down, backwards into a strong warm embrace.


My right cheek rests upon a chest of innumerable proportions and I can hear the deep thud of a steady heartbeat. I am overwhelmed by the safety of these arms, and yet my body trembles with fear, a delicious giddy kind of terror.

Dare I open my eyes?
I do.

I look up into the face of my captor, and cry out. Such beauty! In this one moment I see that those blazing eyes know all of me, every fibre, every thought, every tear, and they are swimming with pure unbridled love.

Why does He look at me so? Does He not know I’m a fool?

He sets me down on my feet, my legs still trembling like a new born foal’s, and He takes my face between His hands. His gaze is consuming; it seems He cannot get enough of me!

Will my body split in two?
Can the Flesh leap for the delights of the Spirit?

A golden peace pulses through me, and the battle is silenced. A drop of understanding pools in my mind, and I see that the war is not within me, but above and below. Any idea of a battlefield bound to my rib cage is an illusion, sneaky little lies to throttle my joy. The status of my soul is not in question; it has already been claimed and it dances inside the heart of my God.

The truth – ah, the truth – is that my purpose is not to fret over a spiritual warfare that is so beyond me, but to bask in the glory of the person who made me, the lover of my soul. I am His, and He is mine.

As these revelations bloom, the Holy Spirit looks at me, and I blush. Why does He look at me so?

Will my body split in two?
Can the heart shatter with the ecstasy of love? How do my bones not burst out with such happiness?

The whisper across the hot red sands. “Come away with me.”
My King takes my hand and kisses it. Suddenly I am bold; my blush evaporates leaving my cheekbones high and strong.

I know why He looks at me so.

As I am lead towards the hills, all doubt is bled out with every step, until I am simply giddy with delight, until I am dancing.

I know why He looks at me so.