For Rachel…

For Rachel…

This week, we take a little time out to reflect on what He did for Rachel and for us too…

rachel

Rachel stood beside the river, watching her reflection. The cool clear shimmering river that ran through their neighborhood. She looked very beautiful in her white dress and hat. A Christian Dior collection, very fetching indeed. Suddenly, her reflection in the river gave way to past events in her life and just like a movie, she was watching it. Every unkind word she had ever said and every selfish deed she had ever done. The time she stole money from her mother, the time she spread a rumor in school…every picture, every scene seemed to muddy the clear water. She was filled with remorse. Waves of shame swept over her. Just when she could bear it no longer and was turning away, she felt a hand clamp down on her shoulder.
“Where do you think you’re going miss?” a man’s deep voice said roughly. She spun round to face him but could not see his face. He wore a black hat and a long black coat and was much taller than she.
“Don’t you see that you have poisoned our clean and clear water?” he thundered, shaking her. “You have ruined it!”
Rachel gulped in fright. “I’m sorry sir, I didn’t mean to,” she said in a small voice.
“Being sorry does not help anything,” he said angrily still holding her by the shoulders. “You have polluted this water and now you shall have to cleanse it.”
Rachel did not know how she could possibly do that. This man frightened her and he was putting so much weight on her shoulders, she was beginning to feel a strain in them. He was hurting her!
“I’m sorry,” she said. “But I have no idea-”
“You mean you don’t know how? I’ll show you how!” he boomed and so saying he dragged her by her hair up to the river’s edge. She stifled a cry of pain and glanced at the river in horror. It had turned from a muddy brown to a dark red. It looked just like…blood.
The man pushed her down until her head was bent over the river.
“You will have to suck poison out of the river,” he said menancingly. Rachels’s mind didn’t want to register his words but his intent was clear as he bent her head lower over the river. He wanted to drink this? But it was impossible. She knew with absolute certainty that if she did drink it, she would die.
“Please,” she said with as much courage as she could muster. He only bent her head lower and lower until her face was very close to the water. So close that some of it splashed on her white dress. A sickening smell filled her nostrils. The smell of rotting flesh.
“Drink,” he ordered.
She refused to let her mouth touch the water and kept struggling with him.
Suddenly, she saw a man at the edge of the river kneeling by it. He was weeping. He was sweating profusely too and the sweat was of a strange dark red color. She felt rather than heard his words; ‘Oh, if it be your will, let this cup pass over me.’ His voice was low and agonized.
Then a voice so powerful and strong she trembled, asked: “What about Rachel?”
The man lifted his eyes up to heaven and murmured; ‘For Rachel, I will do anything. I love her. Not my will, but Yours.” And then he bent his head low over the dirty river as if to take a sip.
Rachel knew exactly what was going to happen. He was going to die if he touched the water. She tried to get up but the man pushed her down.
“N-O-O-O!” she screamed at the top of her lungs.
And then soft, gentle hands were shaking her. “Rachel, what is it?” her mother asked, concerned.
She shook her head, unable to speak.
Her mother gave her a kiss on the forehead and replaced the covers. “It was a dream dear. Go back to bed.”
As her mother left the room, Rachel glanced at the Bible on her bedstead. Was it really, only just a dream?

Victoria
victoriaozidu@yahoo.com
1 Comment
  • Ife
    Posted at 01:00h, 21 April Reply

    Beautiful.

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