208~~~Chapter Forty-One: Only You~~~
March 29th, 2009
First thing when we got to my house, Nate begged to use the shower. This was hardly surprising, since for the last three years he'd only washed himself occasionally with buckets and cold water. Heath, still finding the beard to be atrocious, offered to go back to his apartment for a razor and some clean clothes - and to pick up Stephen from the neighbor's - so Nate could make himself a little more presentable.
Megan got it in her head to cook Nate a huge lunch. She kept pressing him about what he wanted until finally he admitted, out of sheer exhaustion, that a steak and some fried potatoes would hit the spot. Jade offered to go with her to the butcher, and after they left, only Brooke and Caden remained.
They were desperate to hear his story. We sat outside in the garden, Nate and I occupying the swing, so that Nate could see the sky. He told them a slightly condensed version of how Barkat had come to faith, with a great deal more composure than he had the first time. Brooke and Caden listened well and asked plenty of questions, and I learned that Barkat, in the end, had offered Nate a hundred grand as retribution for his suffering. Nate, of course, had refused the money, and told him to use it for the furthering of the gospel.
"Then he gave me his boots and enough money for a taxi back to Salena," Nate explained. "I tried to come straight away, but my driver had to stop in Yzbeel Friday night to sleep, and then we were detained yesterday by a convoy crossing over the Amad bridge. I thought I'd never get here."
"You must be exhausted," I said, rolling my head back on his shoulder to look up at him.
He shrugged, unwilling to admit as much, though it was plain as day to see he was fading. "I can manage." He looked across the grassy, sweet smelling lawn, his eyes fixed upon Brooke and Caden, who sat quite close together in their flimsy plastic chairs. "So…you two finally got hitched, huh?"
Brooke blushed, which she never failed to do even after two years, and Caden beamed down at her as if he was the luckiest man alive. "Yeah," he said languorously, "I spent a day with her on the beach, and after that I was completely smitten."
Brooke rolled her eyes. "If I remember correctly, you were depressed that day because your girlfriend broke up with you."
"See, my wife?" Caden nudged his glasses up his nose, as if she had just proven his point. "She's so sensible and honest. I have to work really hard to bring out the romantic in her."
Brooke gaped at him. Her eyes flashed, but as he smiled down at her she forgot to be upset, and softened against him. "Not very hard," she said, and he brought his mouth down and kissed her.
Nate smiled at them. "When's the baby due?"
"Beginning of June," Brooke answered a little breathlessly. "And no, we haven't decided on a name yet."
The conversation quickly turned to spiritual matters, and Nate was profoundly moved to hear of the burgeoning Shari church. He rejoiced over Kaveen and Achmed and the others, his eyes once again brimming over with tears, his joy so visible it wrenched at my heart.
"And what of Serush?" he asked, his expression hopeful. But when he saw the sadness leap into my eyes he looked away, throat bobbing. "They murdered him, didn't they?"
I nodded and said nothing.
"Dear Lord," came his broken, half-whispered prayer. "Would that it had been me instead!"
But he who was so in love with Christ as to know that death was only the beginning of an extraordinary and wondrous eternity, could not really mourn. Instead he looked up into the vibrant blue sky, as if to look into heaven, and treasured the memory of his friend.
"His death wasn't for nothing," I said encouragingly. "His brother came to faith about a year later, and married Belavan."
"Mihad married Belavan?" Nate pondered this information with growing fascination. "She was so in love with Serush."
"I guess maybe they found comfort in each other. At any rate, Belavan believed not long after the wedding."
"Praise God," he murmured, and sighed happily.
Heath returned shortly thereafter with his son and the clean clothes. Nate exclaimed lavishly over the baby, and then took leave of us all for his long awaited shower. He was gone quite a while, and I was amazed at my own impatience - for while I knew exactly where he was, I couldn't seem to sit still. I longed to touch him again and look into his eyes, and already I was struggling to pay attention to anyone and anything else around me.
When Megan and Jade returned with the steaks, and more noise and chaos erupted, I knew I had to escape. I retreated into my bedroom, thinking perhaps I'd read my Bible until Nate was finished - and came to a sudden halt when I saw him standing in front of my window, staring out of it.
He swung around when he heard me. He wore a blue polo shirt and slacks, both of which hung rather limply against his body, and his feet were bare. His wet hair was still long and unmanageable, but he'd shaved off the beard, and the planes of his face were so wonderfully familiar, that not even the hollowness of his cheeks could detract from his beauty. I walked up to him, completely mesmerized.
"A little better?" he asked, smirking.
I touched the freshly smooth skin where his beard had been, shivering with emotion. "I love you so much."
He took me into his arms, lowered his forehead to mine. His breath tickled my face. "You have no idea…I love you more now than I ever did, and I don't even know a single thing about your life. I don't know where you've been, what you've done…there are so many questions, I can hardly sort them all out. Mostly I'm just amazed you're here."
I blinked back the tears that were stinging my eyes, traced the line of his jaw with my fingertips. "You were right when you said this was my calling. I couldn't leave. It was like the Shars were attached to me, part of me. Salena has truly been my home…I don't know any other way to describe it."
"I prayed for you every day, that you would be strong."
"I prayed for you, too." My voice wavered as my throat squeezed around it. "And I wrote letters to you. Hundreds of them. They're all on your laptop. I thought maybe, if you ever came back, you'd want to know what happened. Here…let me show you."
I tried to slip out of his embrace, but he held me fast. "I'll read them all one by one, and treasure every word. But for now…I don't want to look at anything but you."
His lips were right above mine, his mere presence distracting me from any coherent thought. He massaged the small of my back, kneading out all the tension there. The fresh soapy scent of him swirled around me. "I still can't wrap my mind around it," he murmured. "I thought I'd never see you again. Now I'm alive, and you're here, and you are just ravishing, and I keep singing praises to God in my heart. 'Give thanks to the Lord of lords, for His steadfast love endures forever; to Him who alone does great wonders, for His steadfast love endures forever!'"
I let his words ring out into the silence; then said quietly, while tracing the curve of his ear and the little scar where they'd run a nail through him, "Did you ever think, even once, that maybe your dream meant something other than death?"
His forehead wrinkled, and he took a moment to consider the question. "I guess I never did. But now that I think about it…what if when He said He would take my life, He meant the last parts of me that I had not fully surrendered? There was still pride in my heart; I wanted to build a Shari church. And see, it has been built, but not by my hands. Not even by yours. All praise be to Him! 'Unless the LORD builds the house, those who build it labor in vain.'" He sighed worshipfully. "And then there was you. I had to be willing to part with you, should God require it."
"Nate…God didn't turn you over to Barkat just to sanctify you. He did it to glorify Himself among those terrorists. And see, now Barkat and Isa are following Him. Maybe He had to take your life away from you for three years to accomplish that."
He nodded, allowing these thoughts to take root in his heart. "Ally, I think I always wanted to live. But I never let myself hope for a day beyond this moment, not seriously. Now I look forward and I can't see the end, and it's the most remarkable thing. It's like the rest of my life is a blank canvas, and I can do anything. We can do anything. The Lord has opened up the world and the future for us, in a way it was never open before."
"Kind of thrilling, isn't it?" I said, warming to hear his excitement. He did want to be here. He did want to be alive. There was no need to keep doubting it.
"Mmm-hmm." He moved to kiss me, but then his eyes flicked downward, and he drew back in surprise. "Wait a minute…is that my wedding ring?"
I blushed furiously, and reached up to unclasp the chain from my neck. Only my fingers were shaking on account of Nate being so close, and I couldn't work the tiny lever.
"Here, let me," he offered, and suddenly his fingers were brushing my skin, the sensation rippling through me and making my toes curl. The chain came loose as he caught it with his hand, and then he was holding back my hair, pressing his lips all along the curve of my neck. I let my eyes flutter cloesd, and wondered if there would ever be a time when this man would not completely overwhelm me.
"Hey guys!" Megan poked her head into the room, startling us both. "Sorry! I just wanted you to know that lunch is ready."
Nate swallowed and thanked her, then looked down at me with a flicker of amusement. "Between her and her husband, I think we've been interrupted at least a dozen times over the years."
"You're probably right," I admitted, smiling coyly. "But then, we've never been very good at closing doors."
He groaned and kissed my forehead. "All right…I guess we should eat something." He slid his wedding band off the chain and onto his left ring finger. It was only then, as he paused to study it, that the weariness really showed in his eyes, and made him look as if he'd been through a long and strenuous battle.
"I'm not really hungry," I said.
"Me neither, but she worked so hard…"
He was way too nice sometimes.
We ate steak and potatoes and carrots, and there was much laughter and storytelling. Nate consumed only about half of what he normally did before complaining that his stomach hurt, but it was still most nutritious meal he'd had in years.
As the afternoon wore on, I became increasingly concerned for Nate. He spoke with less and less enthusiasm, and his eyes often drooped closed when no one else was looking. I whispered once or twice into his ear that he should go to bed, but he kept ignoring the suggestion, saying he was fine.
The other problem was that nobody was leaving. I mean, I couldn't fault them for it. They all wanted to hear his stories and tell a fair share of their own. But it was draining the energy right out of him, and I knew if he didn't get to sleep soon he might pass out right there in the living room.
Finally around seven o'clock I asked him to go into my room and get my Bible for me. He didn't even look at me strangely, as if I should have gotten up and got it myself. He just yawned and staggered to his feet and walked away, and I prayed he would find my shadak irresistible when he got in there, and lie down.
"You must be dying inside," Jade said after he left. "I don't even know him that well, and I've been shaking for hours."
"It's really unbelievable," Megan agreed. "I can't stop thinking how great God is."
Her and me both.
Twenty minutes later, Nate still hadn't returned. Heath suggested maybe he'd gone to the bathroom, and Megan thought he'd probably climbed up to the roof to pray. I rolled my eyes and offered to check on him, knowing full well what he was doing.
Sure enough, when I stepped into my bedroom Nate was there, sprawled on his back across my shadak, head rolled slightly to the side, eyes closed. I stopped just inside the doorway to watch him. His chest rose and fell slowly, as if he was already in a deep sleep, and the sight of him lying there so peacefully made my heart constrict with emotion.
I walked up to him and kneeled beside the shadak. His freshly shaved jaw looked stark and angled beneath the long, dark curls that covered his forehead. I reached up and tucked them behind his ear. His skin was cool, smooth, unsettling in its paleness.
For the first time I began to see and accept the greatness of the change in him. He was stronger on the inside - of that there was no question - but so much weaker on the outside. The Askarich had drained the life from him day after day, year after year, so that now his body was spent and broken. It didn't take a professional's eye to see he was malnourished. He had lost much of his wonderful muscle tone, and his hair was course and dull. He looked much more than three years older, and yet, there was something about the way he breathed - steadily, purposefully - that made me believe he would find his strength again.
I slid my hand down the side of his face, and as I did his eyes flickered open. Dark in the fading light, they focused immediately on mine, as if they had known all along I was there. His breath quickened, and he exhaled a short, husky, "Hey."
Self-consciously I withdrew my hand. "Hey."
His eyes fluttered shut, then opened again. "I'm sorry…I didn't mean to…I'm just so tired."
"I know." I set my palms flat on my thighs. "I shouldn't have let you stay up this long."
He shook his head slowly, eyelids drooping.
"Are you cold?"
He didn't answer for a long moment, and I wondered if he'd fallen asleep again. "I don't know," he murmured suddenly, opening his eyes to stare blankly at the ceiling. "I can't tell the difference anymore."
Tears burned my eyes. The thought of him curled up in a warehouse in the middle of winter, without a fire, without even a blanket or socks, was enough to turn my stomach. With trembling hands I grabbed the double-lined fleece at the end of the shadak and drew it up over his body.
He stopped my efforts somewhere over his chest, then took my hands in his. "Ally…I'm fine. Really I am."
I knew I was on the verge of breaking. I wanted to cry aloud in outrage at what had been done to him. But it wasn't what he needed. Being angry would not change one thing, and it was too precious to have him again, to feel the solidness of his hands closed around mine, to let anything detract from it.
I bent over him and kissed his forehead. The tear that had been trailing down my cheek dropped onto his brow, and I drew my hand from his to brush it away. I let my gaze travel over him once more, amazed at how little he really resembled himself, when I dared to admit it. Except for those eyes. Those clear, brilliant eyes that always regarded me as something deeply treasured.
Choking on emotion, I sat up and tried to distract myself. His weathered, beaten appearance was all I could think about, so I said, fondly, "You look like a homeless person, you know that?"
A smile cracked his stoicism. He caught my fingers, drew them to his lips and kissed them. "You are so beautiful."
Warmth enveloped me like waves of fire-born heat on a frosty night. I glanced away, fighting off another rush of tears. How was it even possible that he was here? Every moment that passed was more surreal than the one before it. What would it be like tomorrow, next week, a year from now; walking into this new life with him, just as we had dreamed and hoped for all these years?
I looked down at him, and his expression was so openly adoring I felt unworthy of it. Even a little frightened. The last time I had seen such intensity in his eyes, I had married him. And we had not yet begun to discover what that meant.
Don't think about it, I berated myself. He's exhausted. He ought to be sleeping. It's only been a day.
Still, I couldn't move away. "Do you need anything?"
He answered without thinking, his eyes never leaving mine. "Only you."
I melted at his whispered declaration. My thumb slid over his lips, and then I leaned down and kissed him. He responded warmly, tugging me down into his arms. And suddenly I was as lost in him as I'd ever been - as if he'd never gone, as if we'd only been married yesterday, as if nothing could ever come between us again.
But even in his kiss I felt his weakness, and knew I could ask nothing more of him. I drew back, fingers still buried in his hair. "Goodnight," I whispered, and started to rise.
He caught my hand roughly. "Where are you going?"
"Back to the living room. You need to rest."
He lifted a brow. "You aren't tired?"
I couldn't understand his meaning - after all, it was only seven-thirty, so why would he think I was tired? But then it occurred to me that maybe he had no concept of time, and thought it was much later than it really was.
"I'm too overwhelmed to be tired. And I'm afraid…" My voice failed me, and it was several breaths before I could continue. "I'm afraid if I close my eyes, I might I wake up and find you're not here."
The tension in his grip relaxed. He said nothing for a long moment, just let his eyes travel back and forth over my face. Finally he exhaled. "Then stay here with me tonight."
I shuddered under his gaze as heat infused my face and neck. I knew he'd said nothing to warrant it, but still, the thought of lying down next to him, of never having to sleep alone ever again, made my heart quake and my throat go dry.
"Don't look so surprised," he chided softly. "You are my wife."
"No, I know that…I…" I bit the corner of my lip, feeling foolish. "Of course I'll stay."
He smiled, but without his usual strength. Already his eyes were closing, his body relaxing into the thin shadak.
"I'll be right back," I promised.
I went into the living room and told everyone Nate was sleeping. They all jumped up, apologizing, and began collecting their things. I insisted they didn't have to leave, but they were quite determined to go - perhaps it had finally dawned on them how exhausted Nate must be. Jade graciously offered to spend a couple days with Brooke and Caden, and when I argued, saying it wasn't necessary, she put a hand on my shoulder, leaned in, and whispered, "You'll thank me later."
It wasn't until my teammates departed that I felt the full weight of what had transpired the last twelve hours. I was still shaking with disbelief and awe, and my feet seemed to float above the ground as I walked. I had never known such endless joy. It was as if I was living in another world, for how could I ever be this senselessly happy in the old world?
My soul longs, yes, faints for the courts of the LORD; my heart and flesh sing for joy to the living God!
He was so good to me.
I washed up for the night, then went into my room. Nate was sound asleep, rolled onto his side so that his long curls fell across his face. I stopped and stared at him, for I couldn't do anything else, and as a slow smile graced my lips, I muttered another prayer of gratitude.
You amaze me, God. You amaze me.
I tore myself away long enough to step out of my skirt and blouse and into Nate's old T-shirt, the one I had almost religiously worn every night since his departure. The chilled evening air blustered against my bare knees, but I ignored it, and turned to Nate with an eagerness I had not known I could feel. I dropped beside him, kneeled there watching him, as if he was a phantom or a ghost, and should I dare to touch him, he would vanish beneath my fingertips.
But I couldn't restrain myself for long. I breathed out slowly, enchanted by him, and reached out to brush the curls away from his face. He didn't stir, and after a moment I settled down beside him, facing him, and pulled the fleece blanket up over my shoulders.
For a long time all I could do was lay there and treasure the very sight of him. I had no thoughts of the future, even of tomorrow - only the present, in which God had brought him back to me. He was a hand's breadth away, his warmth quickly diffusing the cold air around me, until I felt quite comfortable, quite content.
Slowly sleep claimed me. I didn't know when I closed my eyes, or when I succumbed to the state of the unaware, but the hours that passed thereafter were blissful.
Until the screaming started.
I awoke suddenly, so disoriented I had no idea what was going on. Who was making that terrible noise, and why was I so joltingly cold? I blinked into the darkness, and a second later Nate's shaking form appeared, a shadow against the ever-brightening hall light.
At once comprehension flooded me, and I pushed myself to my knees to draw even with him. He had stopped screaming and now sat murmuring and breathing heavily, his face pressed into tightly clenched hands. He rocked back and forth, trembling.
Concerned and a little afraid, I slid my arm up over his back. "Nate, it's okay. You're safe. You're here with me."
He scooted sideways with a cry as if I'd hurt him. Then, head whipping around, wide eyes focusing on my face, he seemed to wake fully, and gave a blundering sigh that wrenched all the tension from his body.
"It was just a bad dream." I laid my hand gingerly on his back. "It's okay. They can't hurt you anymore."
His forehead glistened with sweat even in the cold. He breathed more slowly, his eyes fixed immovably on my face. I could see his terror waning, his mind calming. I ran my hand up around his neck and pressed my head his shoulder.
We sat like that for a long time. Seeing his fear so vividly had unsettled me, especially after reading his letters and talking to him yesterday, when he had seemed so calm and unaffected. As I held onto him I wondered, did he have nightmares often? Would Barkat torment him even from afar? Would he ever truly heal from this?
"I thought I was back there," Nate murmured at length, his voice low and surprisingly controlled. "It was so real. They were…cutting me again. And then somehow they had you, too. That was the worst part."
I drew back to look at him. As our eyes met I felt a shiver of agony, for I knew I could never imagine what he'd been through. "Do you have dreams often?"
He shook his head with a touch of annoyance. "Never. I don't understand…" He swallowed, ran a hand back through his unruly hair. "I'm sorry."
My heart quaked with empathy at his words. "Whatever for?"
"For this." He gestured randomly, looking down at himself as if he didn't know who he was. "For losing it like that. I thought…I guess I thought if I ever got out of there, it would be over. Didn't think it would follow me like this."
I rubbed my hand down his chest, caught folds of his shirt in my fingers. A soft sort of grief reverberated through me, for I didn't know how to comfort him, didn't know what to say. All I knew was I would have gone to the ends of the earth just to take away an ounce of his pain.
"Nate, you were tortured." My lips trembled as I forced the words out. "You don't get over that in a day."
"But I did get over it." He groaned impatiently, drawing his knees up and turning his back against the wall. My hands fell away from him, but he seemed to find this unacceptable, and after a moment's pause, opened his left arm invitingly. I scooted under it, facing him, looking up into his troubled gaze.
"I made peace with everything that happened," he went on, his thoughts seemingly far away. "The Lord has been so close, so near to me. I would do it all again…I would endure everything…just to know Him the way I do."
I waited breathlessly. Tears gleamed in his eyes, his voice breaking as he was compelled to face the truth. "How can I for even a moment be overwhelmed by what's happened to me?"
"Because you're human. Because Satan wants nothing more than to crush you the moment you've gone free." I set my hand on his chest again, loving the hardness of it, unable to keep from touching him. "Some things just take time. You won't always feel this way."
He looked at me, his eyes very dark and very serious. "I don't think you realize…" He stopped, searched for better words. "I'm not the same man I was."
"I know that."
"I've seen too much. I've felt too much. I am more convinced than ever there is only one way, one truth, one life." He breathed out as if his next words were eternally sacred, and demanded the most absolute reverence. "Jesus Christ. He is everything. If you thought I was single-minded before, I'm sure I'm only more so now. I have to give Him all that I have. I don't know any other way to live."
"I don't want you to live any other way." I leaned forward, as if by coming just a little closer, he would see my earnestness. "Every word you wrote in your letters resonated with my soul. The things God is doing in your heart, He's doing in mine. I want to live that life with you. I want to be radical and passionate with you. I want to give up all that I am for Him with you. Do you believe that?"
A deep, penetrating emotion gathered in his eyes. I knew not what it was, but it was so intense I found myself shuddering beneath it.
"Yes." His breath filled up the lingering silence. "I do."
He leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine. I forgot everything except the familiar, unraveling feel of him, the texture of his hair twisted round my fingers, the thrumming rhythm of his heartbeat. It was enough just to live in that moment, to be caught up in something so present and tangible that nothing else in the world mattered. I had never known such release, such freedom.
Nate broke away suddenly, laughing. I stared up at him, confused and breathless and wondering what on earth I'd done to amuse him.
"You're wearing my shirt," he said, his hand massaging my stomach.
I blushed and looked away. How could he make me feel so vulnerable and yet so desirable at the same time? "You don't want it back, do you? 'Cause it won't fit you anymore."
"Hmm." He kissed my ear, then drew back so his face was inches from mine. "Well it certainly doesn't fit you."
He moved to kiss me again, but I stopped him, bracing my hand against his chest. He lifted an inquiring brow, not understanding.
"I know you have scars under there." I slid my thumb back and forth over his polo shirt. Then, hesitating, I looked up at him. "Can I see them?"
If he was surprised, he didn't show it. Rather, he seemed to melt with relief, as if the knowledge that I already knew he was scarred made revealing the truth less awful. He took a moment to rally himself, then reached behind his neck to tug the shirt up over his shoulders and head.
The full length of his chest was marred by dozens of long white scars. Some appeared to be symbols of foreboding significance; others were merely undefined slashes. Even his arms and shoulders had been cut open. The damage was not small or insignificant, but a bold, unrelenting emblem of what he had endured. The sight of his wounds shocked me more than I could have anticipated, and I struggled to take a breath, glancing up at him with wide, disbelieving eyes.
He made no apology, but he seemed to want reassurance, and so waited for me to discern my own feelings. I touched the long lines of broken, blemished skin, unable to stop the tears from streaming down my face. I knew in that moment I would never comprehend what he had seen and felt. I would never know the things he had known, and that knowledge was almost too great to bear.
But as I let my thoughts drift to Christ, I was overwhelmed all the more. He, the blameless lamb of God, had lived perfectly, surrendered completely, obeyed fully, and had still born the fullest wrath of God. Indeed He had been crushed and stricken for me, so that I might know the fullest extent of His love and the fullest peace and acceptance before God.
Nate might regret, if only for my sake, that he had been so cruelly marred. But I could not regret it. Looking again at those haunting scars, I could only think of what Jesus had done for me on the cross. It was, quite possibly, the most worshipful experience of my life.
I focused again on Nate, crying for no other reason than that he was here with me. I leaned down and pressed my lips to one of his scars. I felt him tense, but he didn't move away. I kissed another, then another, half-sobbing, loving him all the more.
"Ally…" Nate caught my face in his hands, lifted my head.
"I know, I'm sorry," I cried, feeling fragmented and submerged in something terribly profound. "I just…I can't believe what they did to you. And I know you just got back and I know you're hurting and exhausted…but…" I sighed deeply, for there was no use denying it. "I just really want to be close to you."
Nate looked long into my eyes, understanding, appreciating. He wiped his thumbs across my wet face, traced the curve of my cheek and jaw, swept his hands back through my loose hair. His voice, deep and rushing, vibrated through the air. "Then 'arise, my darling, my beautiful one, and come with me. See, the winter is past; the rains are over and gone. Flowers appear on the earth; the season of singing has come. Arise, come, my darling; my beautiful one, come with me.'"
He leaned into me and pulled me to him as one motion, and then he was kissing me. Not just with his lips but with all of himself, in a way he had never dared to before. His touch was fiercely intimate, bold, satisfying in its lack of restraint. It was all I could do to support myself under the power of it. He was all I'd wanted in this fading, passing world - and he was no longer a distant, blurring memory; he was alive. There was no sense in it, no reason why it should have happened. Only that God, in His infinite wisdom and love and goodness, had seen it fit to bring him back to me.
Your steadfast love, O LORD, extends to the heavens, Your faithfulness to the clouds.
Your righteousness is like the mountains of God; Your judgments are like the great deep; man and beast You save, O LORD. How precious is Your steadfast love, O God! The children of mankind take refuge in the shadow of Your wings. They feast on the abundance of Your house, and You give them drink from the river of Your delights. For with You is the fountain of life; in Your light do we see light.
There were no more fears, no more death threats, no more unfulfilled dreams. No more counting down the moments until there would be no more moments. No more feeling as if I was about to lose the one thing that was most precious to me. Nate was here, and wild freedom danced through me as I realized we had the rest of our lives to be together.
The rest of our lives.
Psalm 136:3-4 "Give thanks to the Lord of lords…"
Psalm 127:1 "Unless the LORD builds…"
Psalm 84:2 "My soul longs, yes, faints…"
Song of Songs 2:10-13 "Arise, my darling, my beautiful one…"
Psalm 36:5-9 "Your steadfast love, O LORD…"
Well, that is essentially the end. I do have an epilogue of sorts which I will try to post tomorrow, but then I guess I will have to say goodbye! It's been such an amazing time sharing this with you, and the things I've seen God doing in your hearts has really encouraged me to try and get this published, so that more people can praise Him...so we'll see. As long as I could still protect the security of the matter. Anonymity is kind of essential in our work. ;)
But again, thank you so much for reviewing, and "Nate" wanted me to encourage you all, by saying that the faith revealed in this story is not something you can work for or achieve on your own. It is a gift from God. And the great thing about gifts from God, is that we can ask for them. So if you long to know God in this way, ASK HIM to give you more faith. Ask Him for courage and love and passion. And keep asking, and keep humbling yourself before Him, and He WILL amaze you with how close and real He can be.
Thank you for reviewing, God bless, and enjoy the epilogue!