The Golden Thread

I could not remember the last time I saw the light.  It must have been sometime early in my childhood.  For years now, longer than I can remember, I had lived in a world of darkness. It was not a welcome place.  There was no one here that was genuine. Like the veneer surfaces you see on furniture, hiding the cheap wood underneath, laughter and happiness here were superficial. It seemed contradictory in a place where there were no rules, as you would think if we were all free to do as we pleased, we would be pleased!  That was not the case.  Instead, it was a dark world full of dark hearts, people groping about, void of warmth and light and love.  Kindness was a cloak for an ulterior purpose.  The landscape was harsh and unforgiving.  The culture was everyone for themselves.  It was a way of life.  Trust and hope were not part of the vocabulary here.

Sometimes I used to lay awake at night and dream with my eyes open.  I dreamt about the light and tried hard to remember what it was like.  Even though this was my world, where I lived, where most of my family was, along with those who claimed to be my friends, there was something deep within me I could not explain that longed for it still.  This present darkness may be all I knew, all I was used to and actually comfortable with most times, yet still I was drawn by the light.  A light that no one here talked about and if they did, it wasn’t long before you never saw them again.  I wondered sometimes, was I alone?  Would I ever see light again, or was it all just a dream?

Then I saw it!  A golden thread.  It was a small, tiny glimmer of brilliant color so bright that I was fixated on it. I had to touch it!  Reaching out, I grabbed ahold and pulled.  It kept going!  Hand over hand I kept grabbing hold of the thread, following where it led.  Soon the thread began to grow thicker.  The color wasn’t just gold, it was a gold that radiated like a warm lightning bolt that didn’t hurt to touch.  As it became thicker it was like a string, then a ribbon.  Sometimes it wasn’t always laid in a straight line.  There were twists and turns, highs and lows.  At times, it seemed to even disappear and yet I always found it again.  Or did it find me?  Either way, I did not care, it looked so much like light I was compelled by it and I gladly left all to follow it.  It was not long before the thread, turned string, turned ribbon, turned into a road that I found myself walking on.  I was now walking on a road of light that led to a great city of brilliant light, so beautiful off in the distance that I could hardly keep from getting emotional!

As I bowed my head and tears filled my eyes at the beauty that lay ahead, I saw and felt a river of blood flowing around my feet.  There, in the middle of the road of light, was a cross with a man hanging on it.  The blood was his.  In horror, I looked up and our eyes met.  “I did this for you”, he said.  For me, I thought?  Why would anyone die and agonizing death like that for me, for what purpose?  But I swallowed hard because I instinctively knew.  The world of darkness I had left behind was a world I had chosen myself to live in, and the darkness that cloaked the light was sin, a sin that kept the light hidden from me.  In a rush of sorrow, I felt unclean, and wondered how anyone like me, full of darkness and sin, could ever live in a city of light.  Then his words echoed in my heart.  “I did this for you… ”

I looked down again and noticed for the first time that my feet were white as snow!  There was no darkness, nothing unclean about them.  The blood had washed them clean!  I looked up at the man, who by this time had breathed his last, and I understood that it was only by his blood that I could be washed clean from my sin and darkness, so that I, too, could live in the presence of the light!  Without hesitation I dove into the river of blood.  There was something within me that died whenever I bathed in it.  Raising up out of that river, I felt newly alive, unlike anything ever before!

I had no sooner began walking back down the road of light when I was met by a stranger.  I say stranger, yet somehow, I felt as if I had known him for years.  Oddly enough, there were times when, out of the corner of my eye, he looked… just like… the golden thread!  Could it be?  I rubbed my eyes a time or two as he came near.  “Hello friend”, he said. I had heard that familiar voice before, and it was then that I realized it was He who I had been chasing after in my dreams.  How comforting to know He had been with me all along, even in the darkness.  He had been the glimmer of hope that turned into the golden thread, that became a string, that became a ribbon, that became a road, who revealed Himself to me first as my Savior, and then as my Comforter.

I knew then that I would never again feel alone or unloved.  Soon there were others all around me that were also walking the road of light.  One by one I began to recognize some as having been in the world of darkness with me.  Now we were no longer there, and together we walked hand-in-hand on this journey with our Comforter, towards that great city of light!

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