"Thou hast only to follow the wall far enough and there will be a door in it." - M. De Angeli
Groping in the darkness, she became accustomed to walking by fingertips. The rough texture of the bark, the mossy coolness padding her fingers, the constant searching for her way in the dense forest. On her journey, never alone. Wildness creeped into the night, sounds of unknown enemies stealing her peace. Fear warped her thoughts, fingers of darkness and doubts spreading thin over her heart, squeezing, suffocating faith. Day and night blurred together in a mix of anxiety and worry. The spiraling trees blocking sun lit paths. Only bursts of light dancing down to the dim forest floor brought sparks of joy in her path.
Searching, always searching. Dainty eyes adjusted to the darkness, meant for the light. Still she trudged on. Through the murky swamps, stale dampness clinging to her tattered garments. Bare feet weary from the harsh rocks and reaching roots that jeered and taunted her every stumble. Pressing on. In her depths, she knew something was worth searching. She could never have been meant to live like this.
Darkness surrounding, depression taunting her breath, worn hands grope for direction. Touch of stone jars her senses, hope trinkles and lights her countenance. The wall. Shelter from the ravage forest. Steps lighten following the wall over fallen logs and roots of deception. As she knew, deep in heart, the wall leads to a door. Knock, seek, find. One step changes her life and begins the journey. Sheer exhaustion catapults her to the corner, hugging the safety of the stone she drifts into slumber. Content for the moment to simply be inside, the story. A story of redemptive beauty unfolding step by step. Her story continues ...