He called me a prostitute and upon flipping through the pages of his heart unfolding, I noticed an image arising from it (don’t even get me started on the smell), and it was repulsive. A woman in heat, more than randy, who offered herself to whomever wanted, I saw countless of hills filled with burnt offerings, made of more trees than a forrest can hold, countless lovers walking through it, if we can even call them lovers, and there was no place that she hadn’t dragged her adulterous feet over, she had scoured the land and defiled it with prostitution. Lust everywhere, lecherous ogling, brothels abounding.
How can a person scoop up this much disgrace.
How can God love a person like that.
How sad to see such a scene and keep calling out: ‘Come thus hither.’
I wanted to draw an orgy in my Bible -that would be a first, how is one to go about that?- but I felt a nausea coming up from deep within, as if it would smear His Word. Even thinking about the drawing made me almost hear Him say: ‘For though thou wash thee with lye, and take thee much soap, yet thine avon is marked before Me’.
Oh, the contrast of it all.. knowing that my Father knows me intimately, even before my mom even wanted a child, has always touched me beyond anything. Somehow I look back at those nine months as a time that nobody can ever tell me about. Nobody knew me, I was somewhat floating in water, nothing else. My mom felt me, my dad saw her growing belly, but they didn’t know me. I was unknown all that time. Yet still safe.
When I heard Gods voice telling me that He wove me in my mother’s womb, I nearly collapsed onto the floor, I just didn’t know how to control my legs any more. His words hit right on the mark and I felt like the foetus I once was, it was as if God made me look inside His heart by giving me a sneak peak in my nine months of gestation, here is my me-time with Him, can I go back to that place where I am known?
Knowing that with the same intricacy He wove me, taking His time doing so and was done the same moment He handed me over to His laws of labor, when His ‘yes’ was positioned alongside to my mom’s first scream for me. Through her He delivered a perfect baby, detailed and all. And even before He formed me in my mother’s womb, He knew me. When I was formless -and void perhaps- He rejoiced over me, maybe even saying: ‘Some day, in the appointed year, this little human will be braced by a Pota-card on her wrist, identifying her, born four weeks late, at least in the eyes of medical staff, but not late to Me, because I know this little human, and I know the timing I embrace her with. She will come at her own pace. Always.’
His knowing me goes way beyond a knowledge of, or a knowing that. It’s an intimate knowing, the same kind of relationship Adam and Eve had with Him and with each other. It’s like receiving a hug in your soul. The contrast of such a loving scene with the image that arose from paper, embodying spiritual whoredom, is just horrendous.
The book had a chapter about me being married and I read how Friday came around and me telling my husband: ‘Hey, love of my life, I’m gonna go out, strolling for and rolling with some stranger, I’ll see you later.’ I read how my husband turned as quiet as he changed his usual blushing color into pale, and how words fell from his mouth, dead on to the ground, where I read: ‘What wrong did I do you, that you do this.. I plead with you to tell me, what need have I forsaken to fulfill, didn’t I always take care of you, cuddle you, make you laugh, comfort you,.. haven’t I been the fertilizing soil from which you bloomed? Don’t I bring out the best in you?’ I replied, saying: yes, but I’m still gonna.. just for a little while..
When I closed the book, it felt like one giant bird flipping towards God. Of all the wood – no pun intended – that was left to burn, I chose the one that looked like my middle finger, and I erected that one – no pun intended- almost willingly flipping Him off, at least disregarding His last whisper when -before the book went back on the shelf, and me out the door- I heard Him say: ‘You are way too awesome to be doing this, my love..’
Oh, how I wish to be perfect. A spiritual virgin.