Fierce Beauty (4 page)

Once my fear and sorrow were sluiced by my tears, I slowly rose to my feet. While drying my face on the backs of my gloves, I noticed the box only a few feet away. Kneeling beside it, I reverently raised its heavy lid and carefully pulled out the book of names. I gently leafed through its
tattered pages and found the last entry followed by nothing but white paper.

Out of His mercy, my heavenly Father had given me one last opportunity to repair the nearly severed bond between my earthly father and me. Though his life ended in horrific despair, he would forever be my daddy. I would always adore him and all he had imparted into my life.

Feeling again like a nine-year-old, I picked up a pencil and etched on the time-weathered sheet a long overdue letter of love to my dad. And beneath that entry, I wrote a message of deep gratitude to my God.

Friend, have you ever found yourself in a similar predicament—perhaps not literally clinging to a vertical sheet of ice, yet so committed to your personal path toward value and satisfaction that you suddenly realized you were on the precipice of death? Our need for self-worth and acceptance stalks each of us like an insatiable predator. And it can take so many forms.

Through desire or fatigue, some of us have bowed in submission to the distorted, self-serving
yuck
that constantly floods our souls through the media. By glamorous proclamations that we’ll find personal satisfaction and romantic encounters and receive the attention and envy of others, we’re lured into believing the messages we read in books and magazines. We’re pressured to mirror the seductive imagery we see on television and movies. We’re bombarded with catchy tunes and slogans calling us to conform to what we hear on the radio at our offices, schools, or homes. The message, though it varies in delivery, is simply this: if we will just succumb to this world’s standard of beauty, we will have a purpose, we will have value, and we
will
be satisfied.

Meanwhile, some of us are seduced by the promise of comfort and
pleasure from
things
. We accept the world’s view that a higher-paying job, a bigger house, a trendy college, a newer car, and a flashier wardrobe will provide fulfillment. We buy into the narcissistic concept that wealth and possessions are the handholds in our ascent toward happiness.

Please don’t misunderstand; there’s nothing wrong with wealth by itself. I know many who’ve done incredibly generous things with their financial blessings. Wealth only becomes dangerous when we value and seek it more than God. Unfortunately, this world twists our logic into the belief that we’re somehow
owed
adornments—that money, possessions, beauty, and comfort are our birthright and anything less is simply unfair. We’ve adopted the mentality of a spoiled princess, of self-appointed royalty wearing a crown of entitlement that brings glory to no one but ourselves.

I can say from experience that choosing a life based on serving oneself simply does not fulfill. It places us outside the life we were meant for, looking in at all that could be. It leaves us feeling empty and alone. Useless. Worthless. Hopeless.

Stuck.

It’s at this crossroad, when the life we’ve chosen seems to turn against us, that we are tempted to blame God. Instead, we must
seek
Him.

Each of us will know times when we’ll ask,
How did it come to this? How did I get to this place of complete paralysis, hanging over what could very well be my ultimate ruin?
The trail of choices by which we come to such a dark place is as unique as every person who reads this book. Yet the answer for each of us is always the same.

Jesus Christ is the right choice at every crossroad and the answer to every question.

We worship a Lord who is both fierce and beautiful—fierce in the way He hates injustice and sin and fights on our behalf; beautiful in who He is and the way He shows us grace, mercy, and love. As believers, we’re called to reflect Him and become fierce and beautiful as well. We were created to serve an eternal purpose—not to follow our mortal desires
while wearing a crown of our making, but to follow the One who wears a crown of thorns. We were not made to live on the outskirts of a kingdom but to worship in awe at the throne of our King. We were not designed to be princesses of entitlement but warriors of encouragement, fighting to bring love and hope to the world.

Our calling is to let go of our crown of gems (our puny personal ambitions, desires, and agendas) in order to pursue our true destiny: His crown of thorns (the will of our King). By doing so, we discover the value, joy, and fulfillment He always intended for those who call Him Lord.

Even now the King is beckoning. May He strengthen you in your endeavor to serve less of yourself … and more of Him.

THE PROBLEM

Once again I adjusted my pillow. It was a vain attempt to find a comfortable position, something I’d already tried countless times that night. After a physically and emotionally demanding day on the ranch, sleep was slow to come. Yet it did finally come, accompanied by the most marvelous dream … Or was it a nightmare?

Through the lifting haze of early dawn, I glimpsed her. Intrigue drew me nearer. She was the most magnificent feathered creature I had ever seen. She was a bald eagle.

Her distinctive features were unmistakable … and unusual. I marveled at how her white head shone with the glittering brilliance of sunlight moving across snow. Though dusky in color, her body glimmered with the luminescence of stars on the darkest night. Moving closer, I saw that a thread of pure gold encircled every flawless quill. Her beak was formidable, strong, and impeccably outlined in … crimson.

Shimmering in the day’s first glow, an elaborate object surrounded her. The circular base of the structure was fashioned in the likeness of an ornate crown. A blinding array of prismatic lights reflected off precious stones that covered its facade. Seemingly forged from molten sunbeams, golden bars rose from the base of the crown and converged in a point slightly above the eagle’s head. A brilliant diamond glittered at the peak.

Together the eagle and her crown radiated an iridized flame that seemed to waft outward in mesmerizing waves of translucent color.

She was an all-consuming beauty—she was perfect.

Perfect
.

Her grandeur drew me toward her. Spellbound, I took one hypnotic step after another. As more details emerged, I noticed something else. Truth rose like morning mist in my heart.

I’d been so captivated by her splendor that I hadn’t fully realized she was indeed a
captive
.

The exquisite nature of her confinement veiled the fact that she was a prisoner. Her entrapment denied the eagle her birthright, her God-given liberty, and her purpose.

Adding to the eagle’s woe, the golden cage was much too small. To fit within the glorious enclosure, her powerful back and shoulders were compromised downward. Her razor-sharp talons were painted in confusing patterns and were absurd in length, garish and glossy from lack of use. The screaming voice of freedom that must have once filled her chest and split the sky now was silenced by the luxurious hell imprisoning her.

Slowly she turned to look at me.

The piercing eyes that surely used to reflect fiery passion for life and the brilliance of her Creator now mirrored only a withering image. Her shallow vision had narrowed to a single harrowing convergence—
herself
.

The eagle’s glory, her calling, her very life were ebbing with every weakened breath. I realized the crimson that stained her flawless beak had seeped from her corrupted heart. It was her own blood.

The eagle was dying.

My heart cried out for justice, for her release.
This should not be her end. She was free from the moment of her creation. She has a destiny, a future, a purpose to fulfill. She was designed for a calling only she can complete. She must fly!

The eagle’s eyes dimmed as her breath faltered.
“No!”
reverberated through my chest like an ancient war cry. I lunged toward the extravagant
crown and attacked the perfection that was killing her. The brilliant confinement was cold—and
strong
. I strained against the jeweled bars, trying to spread a threshold by which she could escape. With jaws clenched I threw my head back, then screamed the name above all names: “
Jesus!
”

Instantly the combined light of a million stars flashed. Scorching heat surged over me. The bars began to yield, then exploded in a soul-shattering blast. Knocked backward, I watched in astonished wonder as a gaudy shower of splintered gold and scattering gems rained down through a cloud of shimmering dust.

The eagle? Straining to see through the ethereal haze, I saw her gasping—but free. She made no motion to rise. She appeared to be locked in place, somehow held in the same position she’d always known. She was free. She just didn’t seem to believe it.

“Wake up! Wake up!
Wake up!
” I shouted while crawling toward her. The eagle blinked and stirred. After closing the distance between us, I gathered her in my arms and, with all my heart, soul, mind, and strength, threw the magnificent bird skyward. Instinctively she snapped open her illustrious wings. I watched the raptor catch the uprising current of pure encouragement that rose from my heart to hers.

“Fly! Fly! Fly, girl, fly!” I called out toward the heavens. With several strokes of her powerful wings, she soared upward. “Fly!” I continued to yell as I rose to my feet. She circled, perhaps looking for a greater updraft to fill her wingspan. Her wings rose and fell in mighty strokes, yet each appeared more labored than the last.

Confused, I realized the eagle was no longer rising. She was falling!

It was her adornments. The weight of her embellishments was more than she could bear.

The great raptor began to plummet. A weak cry left her chest, not of triumph … but of defeat. She was failing. After plunging in a nauseating spiral, she collided hard with the earth, landing in precisely the same place she had just escaped from, among the twisted remains of her former prison.

I watched in stunned silence. The eagle slowly roused, quietly disregarding me. Her only focus was concern over her radiant plumage. After careful inspection of every perfect feather, she appeared to be satisfied. Then the eagle glanced back and forth between earth and
sky … deciding
.

Appearing somewhat revived by her brief flight, a temporary luster rose in her eyes. The beautiful bird cast one longing gaze back toward the permanent glory of heaven and chose her fate.

With renewed resolution the eagle looked intently at the ground. Sifting through the glittering debris of what was once her lovely prison, she retrieved a fractured length of gold. Holding it close, she studied its brilliance. Speechless, I stood as a witness.

The eagle continued on her purposeful search. I watched, mouth agape, as the defeated raptor began to reconstruct—piece by alluring, glittering, captivating piece—the elaborate confinement that had once enslaved her.