The Test And Trial of Love
I had a dream, a dream of Love, or the test and trial of Love...
The sun is high and uncaring to its maker, burning his flesh with merciless scorching heat. For weeks now the sun has trodden down on this good mans head, causing his skin to peel, and
his lips to crack and bleed. The sun shows the same portion of mercy to its maker as any other man.
His dark curls hang loosely in front of his sweat drenched face and his light brown skin is a darker tone now. His feet bleed and blister from the hot rocks he has walked across, his
throat is painfully dry, and his eyes are also dry. He falls to his knees and moves his hair out from his face as he leans back.
Holding the sides of his head he prays to his Father for Wisdom. From the shadow cast by a large bolder a figure stands several feet behind the tired and broken man who is praying
desperately in Hebrew. The figure frowns curiously at him, and his blue eyes gleam. He steps out from the shadow and reveals himself to be stunning with long wavy red hair, and a body like
Michelangelo’s David. He is wearing nothing but a golden necklace with rubies, and a bronze bracelet on each arm. He takes a step towards the praying man and then pauses, taking notice that his
present form is not appropriate for the occasion. The man continues praying although he knows who is standing behind him.
Cautiously a woman’s hand slowly rests on his shoulder, and the man says nothing. A gentle whisper is near his ear, and the tone is soothing to him, catching him by surprise. “Use the
words of your Father, and resist your adversary, for you are not alone my Love,” The gentle whisper of Wisdom speaks as her hand begins to rub his shoulder for encouragement. When he turns to see
who is soothing him, she cannot be seen. There is only the tall figure of the fallen angel Semjaza who stands behind his adversary watching and waiting. He is clothed in a white tuxedo now with a
blood red bow tie, and matching red dress shoes. His face appears as a charming middle aged man with bright blue eyes, expressive eyebrows and a half smile that makes him seem both relaxed and
intrigued. The tired man finds the strength to stand and face his adversary.
With a scowl of determination the embodiment of Love, dressed in torn and filthy garments looks into the well dressed and arrogant ones eyes waiting to be tempted. Semjaza takes a large
bite out of a chicken sandwich and leans against the large bolder, he moans with delight as he takes another bite. The son of man does not flinch.
“Mmm, this is good,” Semjaza says with his mouth full. He then proceeds to take a bottle of water out of his pants pocket and drink selfishly from it, with water running down his chin
and shirt. “Aaahhh that’s so refreshing!” He dumps the rest of the water over his head and smoothes his red hair back, then he wipes his mouth with a handkerchief that he pulls out of his right
There is a moment of silence and they just look at each other. Semjaza studies the starved and tired form of the one who many would some day call Lord, and he wonders why this man
chooses to suffer so.
‘What exactly is he trying to accomplish? Is it a more personal relationship with his children by experiencing the pain of the flesh? Most of them won’t care if he could relate with
them or not. He can’t save them from death, can he? They already made their choice to be free in this world and do what they want until death comes for them. He can’t save them from death, surely
not. He is holy and despises selfishness, and all that he classifies as sin, so why is he here and apparently vulnerable to me?’
“If you are the Son of God, command this stone to become bread,” Semjaza says in a serious tone as he kneels down and picks up a white rock about the size of his fist.
“It is written, man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word of God,” The man says in a tired and broken voice.
Semjaza smiles and shakes his head, he then stands and looks down at the faithful man, turning his head slightly to the right as he analyzes him.
“Alright then, let me show you something that you might find a bit more interesting,” Semjaza says as he places his arm around the tired and gaunt form of this faithful one. They begin
to float off of the ground and then above the clouds, with Semjaza holding the fragile form of this man; someone who appeared so unthreatening, and weak. To the highest mountain peak in the world
he brought him, and the icy air was a sudden change from the warmth of the desert.
Semjaza still held the man close to him, so as to keep his frail body warm. The man said nothing, but just stared out at the distant lands through his tired eyes. He coughed and sighed
as Semjaza pressed his forehead against his. The man closed his eyes and within a moment images of the great kingdoms of the world entered into his minds eye. He saw the greatness of Rome, the
pyramids of Egypt, and the kingdom of the Aztecs to name a few, then Semjaza pulled his head away and looked into the mans eyes, he still said nothing.
“I will give you all this authority, and their glory, for it has been delivered to me; and I give it to whomever I want,” Semjaza says in a calm tone, perhaps a pleading tone. Knowing
that his point was clear, and that is that the world had already been conquered, and all of humanity was destined to die, while the kingdoms of the world were all ran by the Fallen. What was once
given to Mankind had been delivered to Semjaza, because humanity listened to him instead of their Creator long ago in the legendary garden-the place called paradise.
The man smiled, but this alone didn’t disturb Semjaza, it was the look in his eyes; a look that he had seen once before in the eyes of his maker. There was something that he had missed,
and he was reminded of that feeling that he kept in the back of his mind, that feeling that was always scratching at him, a reminder that whatever dwells in the darkness is made known when the
Light shines, and apparently the Light knows everything.
‘No!’ Semjaza thinks to himself, ‘with humanities free will I have gained the world and it cannot be taken from me!’
“If you therefore will worship before me, it will all be yours.” Semjaza says in a controlled tone.
The man pushes himself away from Semjaza with surprising strength, standing in the cold in his garments that are far too thin for the present environment. He doesn’t even shake now,
although he should be freezing, he just looks at Semjaza dismally.
“Get behind me Satan! For it is written, you shall worship the Lord ‘your’ God, and him only shall you serve.”
Semjaza says nothing for a moment and examines the man, as the cold breeze increases causing his long hair to blow in the wind.
“We are going by what is written,” Semjaza asks agitatedly. “Fine then, come with me.”
Once again Semjaza approaches the man and places his arm around him, and he doesn’t resist. They are again floating through the skies, away from the cold and back to the more familiar
heat of the dessert. Then soon their feet feel the ground again below them, and they are on a large pinnacle on the temple in Jerusalem.
The man looks down at the people below, who appear like insects in size, entering into the house of worship.
“If you are the Son of God, cast yourself down from here, for it is written, ‘He will give his Angels charge concerning you, to guard you; and ‘On their hands they will bear you up,
lest perhaps you dash your foot against a stone.”
Semjaza continues to analyze the man and watches as the tears begin flowing from his eyes which are watching those whom he loves. With such love that Semjaza could never understand
being directed toward unworthy creatures who also can’t understand this love; Why does he care?
With his sad eyes the man looks at Semjaza and says, “It has been said, ‘You shall not tempt the Lord your God.”
After these words were spoken Semjaza looked at the man with pity in his eyes, although he tried not to show it, he had to look away, and he shook his head.
“Now I pity you, for you know what it feels like to be a servant.” Once Semjaza said this, he glanced back at the man and for a moment what he saw in his eyes brought him fear, for he
was reminded that this was no mere mortal with potential.
Semjaza stepped back and before he leaped from the pinnacle he said, “I’ll come again at a more opportune time.”
The man stood there on the pinnacle of this great temple alone, and as he kneeled there, their were four figures of grand splendor who hovered down towards him, their garments shined
like polished silver, and their skin appeared like ivory. These grandiose beings comforted the man by feeding him food and water that was far more refreshing than any he had ever had before, and
after being up on an ice cold mountain the sun even seemed rather comforting to him.
As the dream fades away and I the dreamer feel as if I am floating away past the clouds above and back to reality, I hear the voice of a woman speaking in a soothing tone.
“Love must always be tested and tried before the affirmation that the Love is true. Love is not forceful, Love does not give up and Love is offered by Grace. Love is not earned,
though Love can be gained.”
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