The Pond

The chaos pressed around me, weighing down each step. The air was thick with it—tendrils of black vapor darting this way and that. I trudged forward, barely able to see even a foot in front of me, following the voice. Somehow, the soft voice had cut through the ever-present shrieks of pain and evil that filled this world. I didn’t know what the voice was or where it came from. All I knew was how desperately I needed it. My weary heart craved peace, and something deep inside me knew the voice had it. My stomach lurched as I heard a splash with my next step. Water quickly soaked my boot. I took one more step, and the world shifted. Silence. Sweet, sweet silence. That was the first thing I noticed. My shoulders relaxed. I hadn’t even realized how tense they were. Next, as my eyes adjusted to the light, I saw the pond. Gentle sunlight shimmered on the water that started at my feet and continued just to the edge of my vison. A smile tugged at my lips as I felt the sunlight warm my face. How long had I been starving for it? Then, I saw Him. My heart started to leap with joy, but I quickly quieted it. He was a stranger. Why should I trust Him? He strode over to me, feet sloshing in the shallow water. “You look weary,” He observed, a kind smile brightening His face. “That voice ” I wondered silently. “Is it Him?” “What is this place?” I asked sharply. “Peace,” He replied, “REsther Wholeness. Whatever you want to call it.” I turned, examining an invisible wall holding back the chaos. “Why can’t it get in?” “Well, some of it can,” He said gently, eying a spot on my shoulder. A whisp of chaos clung to me. Now that I noticed it, I heard its screech. “May I?” He asked, reaching out His hand. I saw He had an odd scar near His wrist. “What is He going to do with it?” I thought. “Who can grasp smoke?” Curious about this stranger, I nodded. He winced as He wrapped His scarred hand around the whisp. I expected His hand to move right through the smoke, but the whisp seemed to solidify. It stopped moving for a moment, then started thrashing wildly, screaming even louder. With a grunt of effort, He ripped it from my shoulder and hurled it back out into the chaos. My mouth gaped open as I crumpled into the shallow water. “What what happened?” I asked weakly, trying to stop my head from spinning. It felt like a piece of me was missing. He reached down and helped me to my feet, His hands rough but warm. “I’m sorry that was so painful. Evil often has a deeper grasp than one might realize. And removing anything so deeply entwined with yourself, even something that’s killing you, can hurt.” As He spoke, the pain inside me began to dull. I felt lighter mostly. Something in me still wanted that missing piece. I examined His face more closely. “If He can remove that from me ” I thought. “Did you make this place?” His kind smile returned. “Yes, I suppose you could say that.” Questions piled up in my brain, quickly moving from suspicious curiosity to anger. “But If you can do that—if you can just chuck chaos away and make—make, well, this.” I gestured around me to the pond, my voice rising. “With all of its peace or rest or whatever you said it was, then why on earth wouldn’t you just get rid of ALL the chaos?” Before I quite knew what I was doing, I found myself making demands of this stranger. My arguments devolved into phrases from childhood. “Make it go away! Make it all just go away!” Sorrow, long buried under years of toughness and survival instinct, wormed its way to the surface. Choked sobs interrupted my demands, echoing over the pond. Grief upon grief washed over me. Surrounded by all this goodness—the pond, the sunlight,