no condemnation

"How could you?"

The accusation hovered in the air meeting dead silence. What did she want to hear? No reply would satisfy, no words could meet her conditions. It wasn't a question. It was a damning.

Her unblinking stare was like the laser heat of a desert sun. I would die in its intensity if she would not turn away.

I would not defend myself. I would obey You and be silent. I love You, Lord. You must be righthererightnow, the shield of my heart and mind , or I will fail You again.

She stood there and stared for a hundred years, and then finally pivoted away in slow motion. Seeing her through my Abba's eyes, she seemed to be enveloped in a reddish fog, the color of judgment and condemnation. And she smelled bad, too.

Thank you, my lamb. You did what I asked you.

Abba, that was so hard. I thought You would bear the burden. I thought you said your yoke would be easy, and my burden light.

Could you have endured that if you knew I was not rightthererightnow with you?

No, but why was it still so hard?

The blow to a helmet is still felt, even if not fatal. The sound of the wasp is still heard, even if it does not sting. The smell of death is still grievous, even if not your own.



I am filled with pity and grief for this one who accuses so completely, content in her own rightness. My spirit is troubled being around darkness. I would rather be the accused than the accuser, silent rather than defensive, protected rather than threatening. I pray for her and hope He will make her His own someday soon. Not so she won't hurt me, but because I want her to be my sister. I want to share Him with her, this Jesus Who is so knowable and unknowable, so fearsome and lovable. Someday, Daddy......? XO