Why was he looking at me that way? He was smiling, but there was a hollowness-a separation. Suddenly, he clenched his fists and turned away violently. He fell to his knees and clutched at a thick pile of leaves. I gasped and looked away too.
“He thinks you’re ugly.” That familiar voice. The hot, sick breath moistened my ear and seemed to twist and tangle inside my head. I shut my eyes tightly. I felt water welling up. What was happening? “Foolissssshhhh woman.” the voice said again. My cheeks felt hot, I too fell in remorse and clutched for leaves. In the distance, a deafening roar, a thundering stampede, and shrieking animal cries.
Up above, there was a cold, gray sky. He grabbed my hand and we were running, frantically. He pulled me close to him underneath a dark, shady palm, but quickly pushed me away. It was a gentle push, but it had the power to stab my heart. My mind was not the same. I saw a vision of someone like me, clutching her stomach, her eyes filled with water like mine. She was screaming. I saw another after another. Woman after woman. I buried my face in my hands, my cheeks still hot and wet.
“The thief!” I screamed. “The thief!” It was there. Close by. Coiled into a ball. I heard the eerie whispering laugh. I ran to his arms, terrified. The afternoon breeze made us shiver, but it was nothing compared to that creature’s voice. A faint light warmed my husband’s eyes. We were cleaved. I was comforted.
A blinding light and booming voice interrupted our gaze.
“Where are you?”
Guilt. Shame. Remorse. Pain. What do these words mean? He drug me out of the shadows and pointed his finger at me. I hung my head.
“The…-” trying to get the words out burned my throat. “The…thief.” I whimpered.
“Daughter…what have you done?” I had never heard the majestic voice crack and waiver. Another stab to my heart.
The dreams. They were my knowledge. My daughters, suffering because of me.
Our Father clothed us. His embrace able to sooth and correct at the same time. He left quickly, as a single cloud, glistening in the sunlight. A new word. Mercy. What is mercy?
We made our way through the wasteland. Behind us, I heard a shuffling. I saw the pathetic creature writhing and squirming to escape. My heels tingled as I watched it retreat.
He brushed his hand against mine. He cupped my face in one hand and stroked my hair with the other. I could feel his regret and remorse, but his comforting gaze returned.
Never had I heard him call me by name so sweetly. The gray sky transformed to amethyst as the first stars of the evening shone. As we held each other we saw a pillar of fire rising in the distance. I thought of my daughters and prayed for their mercy.
“The man named his wife Eve (life spring, life giver), because she was the mother of all the living.” Genesis 3:20 AMP
Remembering mine affliction and my misery, the wormwood and the gall. My soul hath them still in remembrance, and is humbled in me. This I recall to my mind, therefore have I hope. It is of the Lord’s mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not.
Lamentations 3:19-22 KJV