Walk With Me (26 page)

Faithfulness took out the scroll with the vows Peter and Celeste had pledged to each other and put it on the ground in front of them. He lifted up his hand and blessed them, saying, “As you obey the King, you will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail. And now may the King bless you and keep you and make His face shine on you and be gracious to you and give you His peace.”

He bowed toward Peter and then toward Celeste; then
he turned to walk up the path, leaving them to consider their decisions.

Peter stood with his arms folded. Though his stubbornness had often caused him many problems, this time it served him well. He would not cut the cords, not after his struggle to burn his postcards and his greater struggle to leave the honey woman. He would stay.

But Celeste wandered back down to the overlook and listened to the ugly grating sound of the scissors. She started to walk in a small circle, round and round, and the circle she walked was like the braid around her wrist, with no beginning and no end. She didn’t know why she should go on. She thought, however, since she had buried the postcards, the journey had become much harder. And if she kept going, she had no hope it would be any easier. So why shouldn’t she cut the cords, she wondered.

There was no answer, just the sound of the scissors. She kept walking in a circle, feeling the constraint of the King’s love deep within her. Finally she told herself that if Peter didn’t go down to the valley, she wasn’t going to drag him there.

She walked back up to Peter, who was still standing with his arms folded, looking very unhappy. “Which way are you going?” she asked.

“That way.” He pointed up to the path. Celeste picked up their scroll and came to Peter’s side. Slowly, they walked back up to the path, leaving the Valley of Cut Cords behind them.

B
ack on the path that led away from the sulfur clouds, Peter and Celeste sometimes met other couples who also were escaping the foul air. But sometimes the toxic clouds drifted all the way to Revenge Chasm, and the travelers were forced to take a narrow, rocky trail along the side of a ravine to find fresher air. None of the travelers looked happy about the difficult path, but after a little while, Peter and Celeste saw one couple holding hands and smiling. They looked so out of place, Celeste asked them why they were cheerful.

“We’ve just come from the fencing hut, where Gentleness taught us the kingly way of conflict,” the man said.

“And you’re still smiling?”

“Amazing, isn’t it?” the woman said. “But you can see for yourself. The hut isn’t far off the path.”

Celeste could see the hut through the underbrush. “What do you think? Should we go?” she asked Peter.

“I don’t know,” Peter said. As usual, he was concerned what other travelers might think if they saw him going to the hut. He didn’t mind meeting a guide along the way, but to look for one would make him appear weak. Then he noticed the well-traveled path leading to the hut, and he felt better knowing that he and Celeste were not the only ones who needed help. He agreed to go, but warned Celeste he wouldn’t stay if he had to talk very much.

The hut was small and rustic, made of unpainted logs. When Peter and Celeste entered, they saw it was just a single room with two wooden chairs. They sat down, and soon Gentleness came in. She looked them over. “I can see from your impressive set of battle wounds that you have been engaging in some heavy guerrilla warfare.”

Peter and Celeste shifted in their seats.

“Well, you’ve come to the right place to improve your fighting skills. You know, of course, there is nothing wrong with having a spirited discussion. The King brought you together as two different people, and I’m sure there is always plenty for you to discuss. But you have learned that conflict can be destructive if you are not working together with one mind and one purpose. Do you remember what the guide named Paul said? ‘In light of all this, here’s what I want you to do. While I’m locked up here, a prisoner for the Master, I want you to get out there and walk—better yet, run!—on the road God called you to travel. I don’t want any of you sitting around on your hands. I don’t want anyone strolling off, down some path that goes nowhere. And mark that you do this
with humility and discipline—not in fits and starts, but steadily, pouring yourselves out for each other in acts of love, alert at noticing differences and quick at mending fences. You were all called to travel on the same road and in the same direction, so stay together, both outwardly and inwardly.’ All right, enough talking, let’s see how you fight.”

Peter and Celeste stared at Gentleness.

“No, I’m serious. I can’t help you if I don’t know what you are doing wrong. I assume you both have weapons?”

Peter and Celeste hesitated, then took out their clubs.

“No, no. Not clubs. Where are your foils for sparring?”

Peter and Celeste didn’t know what she was talking about.

“What? You didn’t get them? I thought they were standard equipment for the journey. No wonder you have been having problems. Well, let’s see how you use your clubs.”

Peter and Celeste slowly got up and began. Peter often used his club to push Celeste along when she walked too slowly, and Celeste used hers to get Peter’s attention when she thought he wasn’t listening to her. And when they started to really argue, they would use them as battering rams. But it had been a long time since they had faced each other and had a proper fight.

“Come on, come on,” Gentleness said. “Don’t be shy.”

With all the resentment Peter and Celeste had toward each other, they quickly got in the spirit of things and were coming to real blows.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Gentleness stepped in. “You both have quite aggressive techniques. A fencing sword would definitely help.” She took out two gleaming foils for them.

Peter swished his in the air and then touched the blade.

“No, it’s not sharp,” Gentleness said. “These are foils, not real dueling swords. Notice the tip has a rubber cap, and the sword is thin enough to bend easily. But keep in mind that any fight can do serious damage, regardless what weapon you use: clubs, swords, rocks. Some travelers have maimed their partners for life.”

Gentleness showed them how to swing the foil and let them practice until they felt comfortable with the weight in their hand. “The most important thing to keep in mind is the goal of your fighting. Can you tell me what that is?”

Peter and Celeste shook their heads.

“Understanding. Agreement,” Gentleness said. “Not winning—and certainly not damage or destruction. You’re on the same team, so if you disable your partner, you only hurt yourself. Think of it as a dance, not a battle.”

Peter and Celeste began to fence but found themselves making wild strokes with the slender foils, which were much lighter than their clubs.

After a few minutes, Gentleness stopped them. “All right. One of your main problems is that you both lack a sense of give and take. You are either so keen on winning that you charge ahead to back your partner into a corner—or you take a defensive stance that brings you to a stalemate. I want you to practice going forward and then taking a step back, as if you are waltzing with each other. If you can master this, you will be well on your way to becoming a great fencer.”

She coached them as she watched. “Back and forth. Not too defensive, Peter. Give him a chance to respond, Celeste. Respect
the center line. Wait, no, no, no! Peter, it is very unsportsmanlike to get in a sneaky jab like you just did. How can Celeste trust you if she is afraid of getting ambushed? All right, that’s enough for now.” She handed them towels and told them to take turns drying each other off. “Remember you are partners, not opponents. Learn to cooperate with each other in everything, because love binds you together in perfect harmony.”

Peter and Celeste stayed in the fencing hut a long time, practicing their moves. They were slow to learn and made many mistakes. But Gentleness trained them well and impressed on them the importance of mastering conflict. Otherwise it was unlikely they would ever reach the Highlands.

In my dream, I expected the journey would soon become easier for Peter and Celeste. They had buried their postcards, chosen to turn away from the Valley of Cut Cords, and learned to use their foils. And for a while, the way was not so hard for them. They joked and hummed as they went. One day they even kicked pebbles together. The little travelers laughed and laughed, for they could not remember when their parents had enjoyed themselves so much. Soon Peter and Celeste began to hope their muscles would grow strong enough to climb a Mountain of Maturity, and they would reach the Highlands at last.

They heeded the warning of a couple who told them to stay away from the Tar Pits of Disgust. There were dreadful reports of partners who had fallen into the sticky tar and sunk to the bottom
after refusing to help each other climb out. Peter and Celeste also took a long detour to avoid the Quicksand of Abuse. They again took up the habit of reading the guidebook every night before the little travelers went to bed, and they made sure to stop at every gathering hut.

At one gathering hut, Celeste met an old friend and shared with her what had happened in the Desolate Canyon. “I’ve tried to forgive Peter, but how he betrayed me with the honey woman hurt me so deeply.”

“Oh, Celeste,” her friend said. “That must be so painful for you.”

“I know the bitterness is beginning to eat at me, but I don’t see how I can forgive him. What should I do?”

“Do you remember the story the Servant told about the unmerciful servant?”

“Yes, but this is different.”

Her friend got the guidebook and read the story. When she finished, she again read the end: “‘Then the king called in the man he had forgiven and said, “You evil servant! I forgave you that tremendous debt because you pleaded with me. Shouldn’t you have mercy on your fellow servant, just as I had mercy on you?” Then the angry king sent the man to prison to be tortured until he had paid his entire debt.’ I don’t see how your situation is different than this. The King has been merciful to you, Celeste, and He asks you to have mercy on Peter.”

“It takes time for wounds to heal,” Celeste said.

“Yes, but they do not heal well if you do not use the rag of compassion or if you refuse to bandage your wounds but nurse
your self-pity. I can imagine that it will be very hard to give grace to Peter. It’s not something you alone have the power to do. So I will ask the King from His glorious, unlimited resources if He will empower you with inner strength through His Breath. And may you have the power to understand how wide, how long, how high, and how deep the King’s love is for you.”

Her friend urged Celeste to take the northern path after the gathering hut. It would lead to the bridge of forgiveness that Celeste had avoided and from there it would take her and Peter to the Mountains of Maturity.

But Celeste could not forgive Peter. When it came time for them to leave, she told Peter she wanted to take the southern route. Peter agreed, for it looked smooth and flat and headed into a flourishing hardwood forest.