The Grand Feast

She arrived at the foot of the mountain-

Exhausted was her core-

She was desperate to arrive-

She was hungry for peace.

Her arms ached- pulling sadness-

Lack, loneliness, defeat, pride,

sin.

Her face dirty of sweat-

She could imagine her appearance.

Her red dress had tangled itself in thorns-

Her hands covered in the muck she had dragged herself through.

Most certainly not an appearance to arrive at a grand feast.

She kicked the pebbles at her feet-

Looked up-a steep mountain-

Looked down at the muck she had carried-

It was a long way up.

Her foot took the first step up the steep mountain-

She pressed her hair back-

And pulled the gunk she had carried.

All that could be heard was the crunching pebbles pressing against the land-

The heave of her pulling the muck-

Sweat poured down her face-

But she pressed further- still.

When she made it to the top of the steep mountain-

Her eyes saw the grand feast before her-

A silence fell over everyone.

Her chest heaved from the cumbersome trip-

Her heart trembled- not knowing what would take place.

From the very back of the long table before her-

She heard someone get up.

She closed her eyes- afraid-

She could feel the stares of every guest.

And then she felt Him.

She stood there in His presence-

Slowly.... she opened her eyes-

To only see the most kindest face staring back-

His eyes held a love so deep for her.

In that presence she stood-

Tears running down her face.

In that moment, she was enveloped with a tender love-

A love that wiped away her shame, her sin.

A love that ran deep in her bones and soul.

He took her hand and softly guided her to sit with Him-

At the table full of guests-

Each with glowing smiles-

Happy that she had come to the grand feast.

A feast for all to come-

To lay their burdens- their sin-

And be made whole.

Cesiah - an inspiration of Him- My Jesus