The Well
Water was dripping. She heard the faint echo… “plop…plop”, as a drop hit the pool.
Catiebeth swallowed the air of the dungeon and woke to the whisper, “Catie’s a fool”.
The hissing continued the mocking foray and Catie dove down in the well of dismay.
Welcoming darkness, heavy and sinking, no hint of rescue and certain she’d drowned,
“Plop…plop”, the perpetual dripping, ambivalence danced with the echoing sound.
“Listen!” A voice, faint and calm, through the water, “plop…plop”… she couldn’t adjust,
“Listen, My Darling. Hear Me, My love…push off the bottom and swim up…you must.”
Above her, a shimmer, a lantern was glowing.
She lifted her fingers without even knowing.
The tunnel of darkness, sensation of floating, gravity pulling her down, deeper down,
Helplessly falling, without any right to call on the King, or to hope in the crown.
She felt the soft bottom and she couldn’t swim: too deep to be rescued- even by Him.
Deep, dreaded nothingness…
SomeOne is here…
Strangely, distortion,
Becomes crystal clear…
A voice, low and powerful,
What words were said?
“You forfeit your claim,
For you took Me instead.”
There stood the Prince with the face of forgiveness,
He began lifting her out of the well-
Strangely, she fought Him with pushing and kicking,
Scorning His love, Catie chose to rebel.
Aguish, in anguish and fighting against Him,
Knowing the Prince came to save her indeed,
Refusing to yield to His rule or His judgment,
And wrestling without any plan to concede.
He crippled her there, in the deep of the water,
He asked her to yield, but the Maid wouldn’t give,
Surrender at last, in the depth- to the Prince,
In a show of compassion, He let the Maid live.
Choking, coughing, gasping………breath….
From the depths…..came Catiebeth.
Who dares to see Him, the Prince in the water,
Who opens their eyes in the depths of the well,
And looks in the face of the One who releases,
Her small broken corpse from the shackles of hell?
Who allows mercy to fall like a shower,
To cleanse her and wash her, acknowledging Him,
Confessing the truth, that if left to her vices,
She’d drown in the water, unable to swim.
There is a girl who is helper to no one.
Who speaks of the rescue with little respect,
And this girl would tell you she planned her own saving,
The tribute she owes, she would dare to neglect.
Denying the Person, when Love came to rescue,
Her very own eyes could convict and convince,
If only she opened her eyes at the bottom,
She’d look in the face of the Covenant Prince.
Into the dungeon from out of the well,
She noticed a woman was sharing her cell,
Far in the corner and just out of sight
But her hands held a lantern…containing the Light.
The lantern was burning, warm and alluring,
Beckoning Catie to draw near the heat,
Instead Catiebeth kept her back to the wall.
Still drenched head to toe in her shame and defeat.
Pushing the Light, little hand from the darkness,
Crawling behind was the shadowy form,
The metal was scraping the stones as it neared Catiebeth,
It was bright and incredibly warm!
As it drew closer, Catie beheld her…a glimpse of the woman she wanted to be,
Turning her face to the wall, and the darkness, she said to herself,
“That woman’s not me.”
Here was a woman who knew of confinement
who yielded up much to the depths of the tomb,
Here was a lady who yet held a lantern, containing the Light and awaiting the groom.
The lantern came closer an inch at a time, Catiebeth watching the progress it made,
Illuming the cell, and illuming the past, and illuming the faces of those she betrayed.
Ah, it was true, every choice was her own,
and if she were judge, could she crown her own head?
As Catiebeth sat with her back to the wall,
she knew that the Light would condemn her instead.
Lantern scraping, ever nearer,
Consequence becoming clearer,
Passive now, without a vision,
Choices yet…but indecision,
Knowledge of the need and lack…
...Catiebeth began to crack.
Who dares confess to the Covenant Prince?
Face to the floor in a windowless cell…
She is the Maid who has sunk to the bottom,
and wrestled the Prince at the base of the well.
Who understands that she rose against ruling,
The hitch in her stride is a judgment, imposed,
But Love came to save in the depth of the darkness,
The truth of the matter, completely exposed.
Who dares to spew every drop of well water,
Only to drown in the river of grace,
Who dares to look at the girl in the mirror,
and never again dare to spit in her face.
Who will submit and will dare to remember?
Whose faithfulness matters to others, like Kimber.
Is she the girl who is blown, like a wave?
Or will she submit, and commit, and be brave?