Choice

Choose Me.

As she spins around the ballroom, she hears the faint voice of temptation beckon to her. But amongst these frightening whispers, there is another. It is a soft, simple plea.

Choose Me.

She looks into the eyes of her dance partner.

 Choose Me.

The faces in the ballroom begin to blur. They stop dancing and stand in the middle of the floor, staring at each other for several moments. He reaches a hand toward her.

Choose Me.

Her hand slowly reaches to her face and grasps the white mask around her face. Would He still want her after the mask came off? After her nature is revealed?

Choose Me.

Why?

Because I chose you.

The faces around her disappear; the music, the voice, the sounds fall mute. She only sees Him and hears the simple message His eyes communicate.

Choose Me.

In one swift motion, she rips the mask from her face and braces herself for ridicule and rejection.

In that instant, she saw everything for what it was. The faces around her grew frightening. The white dress she thought she wore was stained with dirt and blood. She expected the man before her to turn away in disgust and leave her to the mercy of those around her. But instead, He pulls her tightly to Him.

Her eyes shot open and she wakes up where she left herself – in a cold, dark, dank cavern mustering the strength to take His hand. The things she tried to hold onto – her fantasies, her desires – they clung to her, taking her energy, her life, while enticing her to stay with them. Her eyes focus on the Man before her, still held back by the things she thinks she wants. His hand is outstretched toward her. His face, His eyes tell of His weariness along with something else: determination. Determination to bring her back to Him.

Choose Me.

She mustered all her strength and, as swiftly as she removed her mask, she swung her hand into His. He pulls her to Himself and banishes the darkness. Opening her eyes, she sees their familiar meeting spot. He comes up behind her and shows her what He sees when He looks at her. She averted her eyes, afraid of what she’d see. He beckons her to look, and it took as much courage as it did to place her hand in His and to remove her mask.

A face without blemishes or scars, a simple dress made of the purest light – she caught her gasp in her throat. This is how He sees her? She didn’t need a mask or an extravagant dress?

He extends a hand out to her once more, and with a smile, she took it as He drew her toward Him. Somewhere down the line, she learned to dance, and she couldn’t wait to show Him she didn’t need to stand on His feet anymore. She could really dance with Him.

Masquerade

A dress of white to hide her impurity. A smile to mask her pain and guilt. A vault of titanium to conceal her heart. Sleeves pulled over her wrists, a long train to cover her ankles and hide the bruises and cuts caused by the chains snapped tightly around them. This is how she will present herself to the world. An image of freedom and virtue and all things pure.

But what is truly hidden beneath the girlish, carefree smile she wears? What lies beneath the yards of blindingly white fabric? What would the key to the heavy door bolted around her heart reveal?

The lies will surface and stain the flawless fabric. The mask will be snatched off to expose the exhaustion from keeping up with the lies. The scars will taunt her as her gaze falls to her war-torn body. She is no model of purity. She is no model of goodness. She is fallen. She is dirty. She is guilty.

But to protect herself, to protect her pride, she will wear this disguise and pretend all is well.

The day will come when she gains the courage to rip the white gown to reveal the blood and dirt it veils. She longs for the strength to remove the mask so all will see the pain and guilt written plainly upon her face. She yearns to hold her wounds toward the heavens and receive a sweet kiss planted upon them. She all but begs for the fortitude to take the key in her hand and open the prison cell her heart has been encased in. So all will see her scars. So she can risk the ache and let someone in.

One day.