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Vision Quest for a Heart of Fire

Updated on October 17, 2021

Vision Quest for a Heart of Fire

She stands among the bodies of the dead, the dying, the wounded; strewn across the ground like leaves of autumns' trees-as far as her eyes can see...

She scans the distant horizons for signs of kindred life, knowing there was no one, seeing instead, only the battle and body scarred earth racing to embrace a bleak and empty sky.

The ears of her heart hear the weeping and the wailing: Sons of Adam, Daughters of Eve-ancient curse...ancient sorrow...ancient wounds...ancient death.

Her spirit- it is lonely, her soul is drenched in pain. Her heart longs for heaven, her body- for release.

She turns her eyes towards heaven-reaching for the One:

"There are too many....where do I begin? The cries of human misery reach far n wide n deep...the silence-it is deafening...(What stands.... my Abba.... on the other side of silence?)

"....This battlefield stretches to eternity and back....why have you placed me here-alone, afraid, unclear? To feel all their agony-such hunger, thirst, despair?"

In somber resignation she turns to face the task-to bring comfort to the mourning, water to the thirsty, bread to the hungry, light to deepest darkness- "healing" in His name

The sky begins to to boil-greyness turning black. The clouds begin to gather...then thunder shouts her name.

Piercing grief... white hot pain explodes within her being as His voice drives to the core. Her pulse pounds in response -tracing ragged edges of a wound she didn't know she bore.

Again-the Thunder shouts her name-the voice of her Abba-not gentle now, but fierce-resounding 'cross the body strewn hills with the power of God Almighty...

LISTEN! The seven thunders speak!

Still she doesn't answer, but hangs her head and closes her eyes-weary to the bone-too tired yet to understand the words the Thunders speak

Her chin sinks slowly to her chest and she opens up her eyes, and there her gaze is locked upon a wooden, feathered shaft! Not one! But many! Some weathered, worn, and broken off at just the place where wood kisses flesh. But this-the one her gaze is locked upon-still bright-it's feathers new.

Her lungs can find no breath, her vision finds no focus; as, in shock, a long hid truth breaks through to the surface. (Surely she must have known all along, in some long buried depth, what now she plainly sees). Eyes turned dark as midnight-fly to the bodies strewn around and with sinking heart she confronts this thing that now......she KNOWS:

Her voice is but a whisper-lost beneath the Thunders' roar; snatched away upon the wind:

"I......I am ONE of them.....

I am not called to be a "healer" at all.....

I am called.... to DIE"

Violently-the earth beneath her trembles, as if a reflection of her soul, then Thunder speaks again:


"Heal thy SELF-if you can!"

No will,now left, to stand-she sinks to the war torn ground-

>>Ashes to ashes....dust to dust....this is all I am<<

She raises her eyes again to the dark and angry sky and breathes out her answer to Him who has always been:

"I can't.....


only You can"

Her words fade into tears.

At this the roiling clouds pull back, the Thunders cease to speak, the earth-it stills its quaking, nothing makes a sound....

She beholds the other side of silence and now it draws her in; Here.... strength holds no merit. Words have no voice. Fortresses all crumble. Resolutions cannot stand.

The Altar stands before her. She knows what she must do. With jaw clenched tight and eyes squeezed shut she wraps shock numbed fingers 'round the newest feathered shaft.

She screams into the silence as she pulls the barbed thing free, and places it on the Altar-where her First Love now stands.

His eyes contain the knowledge of eternity ever present, and in them she sees the piercings His love for her has born-a hundred...a thousand...a million times or more,but borne with joy- for to Him...she is wholly worth the price; her arrow but a tiny gift to answer Love so passionate n true.

"For no other, my heart," says she

"Not for myself. Nor for the archers whose arrows flew too true. For You and You alone...

my gift to You..."

Feeling like a child, with thorn pricked hands-offering wilted roses to the fairest rose of by one she pulls them free and adds them to the others. Each bearing with it a portion of her offering of her Love for the Author of Love.

As the last is placed on cold, hard stone, fire burst forth amongst them and weathered shaft and new alike are lost in flames' fierce hunger.

Two sets of eyes mirror the flickering consumation of Loves true surrender-one Spirit-one heart- one life- one love- to mercifully rule them all.

As one they watch it spend itself into a glowing ember, while a thousand hearts are pulled within the dying of the flame.

He reaches out and picks it up with hands already scarred, and places it within her chest-wounded for so long. The searing touch, the white hot heat, the howling, jagged pain-are the healing of The Healer-the only One who can... facades unmasked, deep waters stirred, true motives thus revealed, the soul n spirit wrenched apart....Love begetting Love.

Her eyes meet His n He holds them there, as eternities spin past, and understanding passes through this bond thus forged between them:

"A 'Heart of Fire' can't be 'found', little one,

(His voice now gentle again)

"like treasure to be hunted...

The cost is high

The price comes dear....

You must lay down your life for another"


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