The Mob and the Man

I looked past the crowd of people blocking the next part of the path.  Their chants and jeers were loud and aggravating.  But just beyond them, I could see Him. I could see the Man waiting for me, beckoning me to step towards Him.  But how could I get to Him with all of these people in my way?

Their shouting grew louder and their advances more violent as they saw me looking toward Him instead of them.  Despite the flailing arms and snarling faces in front of me, my gaze became all the more fixed on Him.  His eyes locked with mine.  He nodded, telling me to step forward.  Suddenly, the wind was knocked out of me as someone from the crowd sent a fist crashing into my gut.  I winced in pain, doubled over for a moment, gasping for air. Then I heard Him, like I had before, inside my soul.

“Keep going.  Come to Me.  Follow Me.”

I took another step forward but was met with a hard, stinging slap to the face by someone in the mob.

“Sweet mercy!” I yelled.

Again, He replied, “Keep going. Come to Me.  Follow Me.”

I took a deep breath trying to cool my anger from the slap and took two steps forward, deeper into the furious crowd.  Before I knew it, people in the crowd started jumping on my back, pulling my hair, and locking their arms around my legs.

“Keep going.  Come to Me.  Follow Me.”

Although I screamed out in pain, I made the effort to keep my eyes fixed on Him.

“LORD, HELP ME!” I bellowed, as the crowd swallowed me up.  Down I went into the epicenter of the mob.  Like starving vultures and hyenas on a fresh kill, they dove on top of me, one by one, each heavier than the next. The lights started to go dim. I took one last look through the legs of the crowd at the Man who had been beckoning me.  My eyes closed and my breathing slowed under the weight of the people and their yelling, their screaming, and their violence.  And then—silence.

When I came to, I was lying on the path, in His arms.  I looked up at Him.

“What happened?” I asked, slightly embarrassed and more than a little angry that He had commanded me to walk through such danger.

“My will.”

“Your will?” I asked incredulously.  “I don’t understand, I did as You said.  I kept going. I was trying to get to You!”

“I know. And you did well,” He said.

“Well? What do you mean well?  I failed!”

“No,” He said. “Did you do as I instructed?”

“Yes, but I couldn’t get to You! They overtook me!”

“And yet you are here, where I was calling you.”

“Yeah, only because You had to come and rescue me!” I heard my voice echoing through the valley surrounding us on the path.  It was angry and feral.

With pity and sadness, He looked deeply into my eyes and said, “I don’t rescue because I have to; I rescue out of love.”

“Yes, but You called me to walk through the mob first, so wouldn’t You have to provide a way out of it for me?” I asked with fervor.

“In a broken world, like yours, like this one, there will be pain, suffering, and obstacles. But I have overcome all of this.”

“If you’ve overcome it, then why does the suffering continue?!”

“That is a deeper discussion for another time. Come, let’s get up.”

He stood up above me and offered me His hand. I sighed, a long, frustrated sigh, grabbed His hand and rose to my feet.