The Stagecoach

I am sitting in a stage coach, holding the reigns. The Father God is riding shot gun. I see sadness on The Fathers face as The Father look at me and ask for the reigns. I ignore The Father some of the time, though some moments I do give The Father the reigns. While The Father has the reigns, the horses in front, are calm, sometimes running at the speed of light, other times, casually walking along allowing me to enjoy the scenery and The Father and I a chance to just talk and be with each other. Up ahead, the landscape is changing and I begin to get anxious. I notice that The Father actually doesn't have the reigns in his hands, they are just sitting on his lap. I begin to tell The Father about what I am seeing, to tell The Father how to drive this stage coach of my life. I look back my stage coach and see it packed with so things - friends, job, career, hopes, dreams, marriage, family, church - and I see that if The Father don't change course soon I will loose some if not all of my precious, precious cargo. The Father tell me to calm down, that he knows the way and it will be okay and tires to get me to see his way. But I can't see it, all I can see is the cliff that quickly coming up on the horizon and I know that my stage coach of life is about to plummet to disaster. And yet, The Father is staying the course, not changing anything at all. I ask The Father to at least slow the horses down and The Father denies me even that, asking me again to just focus on his face and reassures me that it is all under his control. I turn to look at The Father's face, to just gaze into his eyes, to trust The Father but I feel resistance. Sitting just behind me, crammed into a a place not meant to be occupied, Satan is perched. Every time I go to look at The Father, I feel his hand coaxing me to look again at the horizon. This goes on a for a few minutes while the horses just casually continue their journey. I see myself reach for the reigns that are just sitting in The Father's lap and The Father ask me why I am doing that. I tell him again about the cliff ahead and how to deal with it, but The Father again ignores me and ask me to just look at him, to trust him. Again, I attempt to do so but give into the pressure applied to my face by Satan's hand to watch the landscape and not study The Father's face. I quickly glance at The Father and I can see that he is saddened but I misunderstand The Fatherr sadness. I take it to mean that The Father too is sad about the cliff rather than my willingness to just trust him in the fact that he has control over the stage coach and horses. Satan picks up my hand and begins to caress it, consoling me in my grief that The Father is not listening to me. It feels nice to be consoled and I can hear Satan tell me about the bottom of the cliff, how devastating it will be to have the stage coach go over the edge. Before I realize what has actually happened, my hand has been guided to the reigns. The Father does not fight me at all, instead sits there quietly, in a small voice, trying desperately to convince me to leave the reigns with him. I ignore him and pick up the reigns and Satan smiles at The Father knowing he has won this battle this time. The Father is sad and sits back after saying something to horses that I couldn't quite here. The Father also looks back in sadness at my cargo, especially the people that are riding my stage coach and I can see his heart breaking for them and me. I beg The Father again to stop the horses from going off the cliff but with Satan's arms wrapped around me, helping me clutch reigns. The Father shakes his head and tells me to give him back the reigns. I point out how The Father had already messed that up and start wildly flapping the reigns, trying to get control of the horses. Yet the more I beat them, the more I scream at them, the more I watch the cliff come closer and closer, the more the horses run faster. They are trying to run in different directions, shaking the whole stage coach. I look back into time to see my cargo start to slip. I yell at The Father to jump back there and secure everything down. But he just sits there and ask for the reigns back. I tell The Father that I have that and The Father need to worry about my cargo and yet, The Father just sits, tears now welling up in his eyes. The cliff is not that far away and I try and steer the horses. They aren't responding to me at all and the stage coach jerks around more. That last bump something fell out - oh, it looks like a few friends fell off or jumped off and the job box is about to go. I beg The Father to go fix it but he doesn't. What I can't see is that in my haste to get the reigns, I have wrapped them around The Fatherr legs and He cant move. The Father tells me again to give Him the reigns and begs me to look at him, but Satan keeps one hand pressed against my face making it impossible to turn my face to The Father. His other hand and arm are holding mine much like a parent holds a child's hand when teaching them to write, not actually holding the reigns but definitely controlling the situation. The horses submit to the will of the bit finally and I think I am in control of them. I think back to the path The Father showed me and look for the markers he gave, where The Father said we were going to turn to avoid the cliff, where the bridge was but I can't find them. Satan is talking loudly in my ear, describing the cliff and how long the journey down will be. I look to The Father and see that The Father is crying. I ask The Father to tell me what to to, to remind me of where the markers are but he is silent. The Father looks back at my cargo and shake his head, knowing that its all about to go. I pick up the map that The Father brought with us and read it but it doesn't make sense because I can't find my place on it. The legend of the map says my location doesn't matter but I can't understand how that is possible when the cliff is quickly approaching. No matter what angle I hold the map, the compass on the map is always naturally pointing to The Father. However, I do notice that at times, it points at me. What I don't see is that Satan has moved the compass to point at me but when he moves is finger it pops back over to The Father. The cliff is right there and I know we are about to go over it. The horses are running at full speed now, fighting the bit, not stopping, I am desperately trying to gain control over them - yelling at them, screaming at them, shaking the reigns and hitting them as hard as I can. I look back and most of my cargo is thrown all over the road, laying scattered over the past few miles. There are still a few friends who have held on for dear life but they are ready to jump as well. Other friends have walked away from the scene before it can even happen while others stand still to watch the destruction. I can hear many of them calling out to The Father and I grow more and more angry with him for not answering them, for not taking control. What I don't see directly behind the stage coach is that there is something back there gathering the cargo, talking to the friends and family and I can't see that most of them are actually walking my direction. All I see is the cliff and The Father sitting there doing nothing. Satan is not even having to guide my hands any more or move the compass. I have complete control over both. It is now my finger that moves the compass to point only to me and my hand holding tightly to the reigns. We approach the cliff and the first two horses attempt to stop and not go over. I again angrily scream at The Father to make them stop but the momentum is too great. I still have the reigns. As we go over the side of the cliff, I let go of the map and the reigns and throw them up. Almost in slow motion, Satan reaches for the reigns and I scream. I speak nothing that is intelligible as we plummet to the bottom of the cavern. But then Satan again touches my shoulder and whispers in my ear. I look around and begin to think this fun. The cargo has all fallen away and my friends are screaming at me to look to The Father. The map has fallen off the stage coach as well and we are all free falling. I turn and look up and see The Father standing there, watching me fall, standing with many of my friends and family who are also watching me fall. I get angry and scream at The Father and Satan laughs loud and clear. I reach for the reigns again but can't reach them because Satan has a hold of them above my head, laughing a diabolical laugh. I again scream, not words just scream and become more and more angry. I hear my friends who are still in the stage coach yelling to me to look back at The Father on the cliff but I am so angry with him for leaving me that I won't do it. One of them again yells at me to give the reigns back Christ and I point out that I am alone up here and they just need to shut up. A few more jump out before we hit bottom in an attempt to save themselves. A few even try and grab me to stop me from being the carnage. I shake them off and scream out to The Father. Finally, moments before the horses hit rock bottom and everything is destroyed, I call out - this time I call out to The Father, not just scream. Though what I say is not discernible by any human ear I beg The Father to take control of my life again, to take the reigns from Satan and stop the wreck. Immediately, Satan is thrown from the stage coach and the reigns are moved back to the rightful place. It is then that I see Christ. Calmly, he pulls on the reigns but it is too late to stop the wreckage. As The Father looks down, tears in his eyes, The Father watch my stage coach, my horses, what little cargo I have left and the few friends I have left crash to the earth. And The Father along with those of my friends standing with him on the cliff weep for wreckage that is my life. The crash hurts, bad but I am alive. I sit up and look up around. My cargo is demolished, nothing has really survived. My friends and family that were still with me are there and are okay though some of them have sustained damage as well. It takes me a minute to find Christ but when I do, I crushed and heart broken. He looks worse than I do for sure. His body is completely mangled and it does not look like he is alive. I crawl over to him and am sickened by what I find. Satan is standing just a few feet away. He of course is completely unscathed and he is dancing, laughing. I reach out to Christ but his body is limp, lifeless. I look up and see The Father on the cliff, Father, crying at the carnage that was my life. I am too damaged, too tired to be angry and I collapse on the dead body of Christ, crying uncontrollably, inconsolable, desperate to change the situation but sitting at the bottom of this canyon, I can do nothing but weep. As I weep and beg and plead and scream, I feel something wrapped around me. First it reminds me of how I felt when Satan was holding me, guiding the reigns. But instead of anger and chaos, I begin to feel different. I begin to feel at peace. It is then that I realize that I am no longer laying my head on the body of Christ for that body is now gone. I look around and I see Christ and I do not see Satan. I am still at the bottom of the canyon but Christ is now standing there, whole not bruised and mangled. He smiles at me and turns to walk towards the destroyed stage coach. I watch as he tends to the horses, healing them and standing them back up. He then quietly and patiently begins to repair the stage coach looking back to me to, asking me to come help. I hurt for I am severely injured. I try to stand, to walk over to him but I can't. He asks if I want his help and I nod, unable in my shame to speak to him. He smiles tenderly at me and with tears in his eyes, he comes over to me and begins to heal my wounds. As he is healing me, he tells me about the blanket that is wrapped around my shoulders. He tells me that this blanket will continue to be a healer for me, that I should ever remove it and that when the stage coach gets fixed, I need to keep that blanket with me at all times because staying wrapped in this blanket, the blanket of his Holy Spirit will always keep me from Satan's touch. He also tells me that while I am healed I will be sore for a while and that he cannot take away the natural pain that comes from a wreck like this. He then stands up and reaches down his hand to me, inviting me to go help him repair the stage coach and gather the cargo that is left. With the blanket fully wrapped around me, I reach up and take the hand of Christ, the one who was there the entire time I was falling and we begin the long journey of repairing my life. I have no clue what I am doing because I have not been trained to do this sort of thing. But he is the Great Carpenter by trade and knows exactly how to fix the stage coach. As we work, I notice that we are not working alone. My friends who lived through the crash with me are also there, taking orders from Christ, helping to repair the stage coach. I look up to the cliff and I see The Father standing there, smiling. I also see that The Father is talking and then I see those friends who jumped coming down the path to help. I start to take off the blanket to go talk to them to find out why they jumped, but Christ reaches out to me and puts the blanket back on my shoulders and shows me where I need to focus on the stage coach. He assures me that the Father has already talked to them and what they did was between them and him and had nothing to do with me. I am a bit saddened and hurt and in my grief I rip open one or two of my wounds. The blanket immediately tightens around me and one of my of my friends calls over to Christ for me. He comes over and heals the wound, teaching me how to prevent it from opening again. After what seems like an eternity of work, the stage coach is rebuilt sturdier than before and the horses are ready to move on. My friends and family enthusiastically jump back on the stage coach, some carrying other cargo that has been replaced and replenished. I grab the map and head to sit in the back with my friends and family, knowing that Christ needs to control the reigns. But there is no room in the stage coach and Christ looks down at me, inviting me to join him back up where the reigns are. I am scared, terrified to climb up there because I know clearly what went wrong. The blanket again tightens around me and Christ again reaches down to pull me. Satan also starts to wiggle his way in between me and Christ and I scream at him. Christs pushes him off with just a flick of his fingers and Satan is cast away, carrying a huge box of cargo that is black with white letters on it - Ginger's Sin. I look to see where Satan went but I cannot see him. Christ offers me the reigns and I laugh and shake my head. He can have them, I want nothing to do with them at all. I look at the map and see that the compass is pointed in it's natural direction, to The Father, and we head off down that path. Each bump in the road hurts my wounded body but each time the blanket provides me great comfort. Before long, I again notice the landscape change. We are coming out of the canyon and The Father is there to meet us. The Father jump on board, adding the additional cargo that had fallen off in the chaos and then some more. A few more friends jump aboard and we restart the journey. The Father and Christ and the Holy Spirit are no worse for the wear. Some of my friend are still healing but we are beginning to talk again, laugh and enjoy each others company. I am still wounded and healing but I rest assured in the knowledge that I was never alone, that my sin has been carried away and I don't have to carry that cargo box any more, and that there is no room for Satan in the front of the behind the reigns. I have no doubt that he is following closely behind and will one day hop back up and try and squeeze in but for now I rest knowing I and my cargo, my friends, my family are safe because The Father has the reigns. And as we travel, I talk to The Father and Christ and the Spirit. And I am falling more and more in love with the three of them every day.