I recognize this place. Too well, unfortunately. I take in the familiar sights, sound, smells, and voices. Oh, do I know these voices. All of my former friends stare as I approach our meeting place. Josh should’ve known not to bring me here. Anxiously, my eyes scan for Josh. Where is he? In the process, I stumble headfirst into Angst. His dark eyes probe, boring into me. We were close once, real close. I feel the same icy shiver go up and down my back. “I see you’ve missed me, beautiful.” he whispers.
One by one, they surround me. Shame—breathtaking, beautiful, defiant, flawless Shame—offers a coy smile. That one glance highlights all my flaws, everything innately wrong with me. She’s perfect and I’m…not. By her side, stands another old friend and partner in crime. Scars and tattoos line his body. He is equal parts terrifying and captivating and familiar. Oh, so familiar. “Look into my eyes,” he used to say, “and you’ll see the truest form of you.” Many a night I spent under his spell, allowing myself to be tormented by Self Hatred. A willing pawn in his game of deceit.
Fire pierces my body as a former flame touches my cheek. “Hello, darling. Come to spend the night at my place?” Trembling, I will myself to look away. Away from his perfectly formed features. Away from his enticing smile. Away from his promise of satisfaction. Meeting his eyes costs too much—desire and terror and pain.
And then my best friend. Small and timid, she stares, wide-eyed. The hours we’d spent crying together rush back into my mind. I want now to run to her, but can’t. She, too, had filled my head with lies. Because of her—because of Rejection—I’d befriended Shame and Angst and Self-Hatred and Lust. They each promised me what they couldn’t give. They’d each lied and tormented and abused me in one way or another. Anger rises up within me.
“Joshua!” I scream, “Where are you?”
“Right where I said I’d be.” His strong voice breaks through the crowd. I feel the collective shudder around me as their defenses rise. We’re on the wrong side of the track and they know it. Josh grabs my hand and leads me the rest of the way. There, in the middle of the seediest establishment in town is the most extraordinary meal I’ve ever seen. Huge platters of food surrounded by delicacies and desserts and bouquets of flowers adorn a banqueting table. And right next to that, an intimate table for two is perfectly set with china, goblets, silver, and candles. Beautiful.
Josh takes my jacket and pulls out my chair. I suddenly remember that I’m dressed up and my gown glitters in the candlelight. I’m stunning and I know it. For once, I know it. I feel Shame turn green with envy over my appearance. She had spent years convincing me I was ugly and worthless. Until now, she’s never me seen me do anything but hide. Angst’s icy finger’s can’t reach our table, though I sense him try. Lust doesn’t stand a chance against my lavish lover and Self-Hatred can’t abuse me here. And Rejection—poor, pitiful Rejection couldn’t possibly convince me that I am anything other than loved. I am fully, completely, extravagantly loved.
Now I know why we’re here. Josh is showing off. Showing me off. They can’t touch me anymore. He knows it. They know it. Now, I know it. He catches my eye and winks.
Cheers.
Psalm 23:5
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.
Partially inspired by Bo Stern’s brilliant post:
Katelyn Alexander 