Conversion & Call:
An Allegorical Story of my call to share the Gospel with the World
Parched. My breath catches in my throat. Mid-step – and my ashy knees fall to the ground. There’s no way to stop myself. As my hands attempt to catch me, I catch a glimpse of the creases and the rocks that will undoubtably imprint and tear my skin. I try to land gently, but there’s no stopping this Fall. There’s no stopping this Fall.
My upper back hitting the gravel-like pavement knocks the breath out of me. Momentarily my lips open to breathe again, still feeling the pain of their chapped state. The evening and morning passed quickly, with no noises to suggest a human is passing away – my eyes were closed, still subject to the Fall.
I attempt to swallow, and try again, but there’s no saliva left. I attempt to call out to the faint noise of a passerby, but the rocks under their feet became more distant, as I listened and hoped for nearness. Again, I heard the rocks turn under someone’s feet, but this time my voice did not even come out – it was scratching to surface in my throat, but words were unidentifiable.
I heard the footsteps come closer and felt a warmth I had not felt before. It was frighteningly safe. I attempted to bring tears, but the salt and water had been emptied out. The first thing I felt was the warmth of a hand touching my eyes. When I could open them, I noticed His kind eyes. He was moving His lips, but I could not make out what He was saying. I longed to hear the words and begged with my own eyes to somehow gather this information through His gaze.
He caressed my face down the side and slowly slid His hands to my ears. Shocked, I heard Him say my name. The tears intensified. How did He know my name? Why did He want to? I wanted to ask, but my dry mouth could not say anything. Confused and delighted, my mind wandered back to my stinging hands and knees.
It’s as though He sensed my pain, because He immediately touched my knees. They instantly stopped stinging, but I no longer wanted to stand up on my own. I wanted to kneel at His feet. The weight of my body was different than before, lighter. I just knew He would touch my hands next, but I sort of flinched when He reached for my temples instead.
My hands were stinging and it did not make sense that He was ignoring the obvious wound, the one still bleeding, with rocks imprinted to my hands. When he touched my mind, my thoughts immediately shifted to looking at HIS BODY. He was no longer blurry like when I first glanced at Him. In fact, I could see a chiseled figure. At that point, He took my hands in His. I knew He would heal my hands, but after seeing His, I did not want him to heal mine – His hands had scars on them too, and I wanted to be like Him. Instead, He took me in His arms and with my ears next to His chest, heard His heartbeat.
The bu-bum of each beat gave me a mental picture. I saw all kinds of people. There was a togetherness and kindness that was unlike the person who passed me by earlier. I saw healing and affection for THE BODY, with empathy and compassion. Then, He spoke. His words were of peace, propelling the people into worship.
He took my hands in His. The stinging stopped and I without thinking sprung into serving mode. I looked in the backpack He had given me for water and then tried to lace up His sandals again, keeping my mind occupied with each new task. But, when I looked up, I saw Him smiling at me; it stopped me in my tracks. The smile was familiar, I had seen it before. Oh, yes. It was when I was younger – the look that says the sentiment is appreciated, but the actions weren’t helping in any way. I took “the look” the wrong way and hurriedly got up, because I was upset that He did not like or seemingly want my help. He walked over to me and motioned for me to come back to His lap. I could not help but return, after having felt the safety of it the first time. This time, instead of a healing comfort of a best friend, I felt the wholeness of a Dad that would not leave me or disappoint me. He reached for my toes and started playing “this little piggy” with each one. I tried to roll my eyes, but instead, out came a belly laugh that was hard to stop. I knew He loved my laugh. He got quiet again and touched my whole foot with a tender boldness. He told me of my mission to go, just by the look of adventure in His eyes. The glisten in His eyes were a bit pained, but the tenderness showed me His faithfulness in coming with me. He swooped me in His arms as He stood up, as if about to carry me over a threshold, but instead He held me above His head, commissioning my life.
When He sat me back down, I bowed down in worship, with adoration. I felt His hand cupping my face, just like in the very beginning after the Fall. I could sense Him propelling me to open my eyes, but I knew He would need to leave soon, so I tarried in the moment. I opened them slightly, long enough to see Him lean in and kiss me on the forehead, letting me know He loved me and would be with me always, acknowledging that He would see me soon. He scuffled my hair like an older brother, and gently laughed as He walked away. I attempted to say goodbye, my breath catching on my dry throat. He appeared next to me, touched my lips, filling my mouth with water. I swallowed, feeling the fresh water revitalize my soul as I felt it fill every crevice of my being. As he walked away, He turned and said, “see you soon, my love.”
