Walking through the woods, I found a little door.
I’m sure I saw a welcome mat laid down, curled from waiting.
I’d like to stop in for tea sipped from an acorn cup, and some sweet nut cakes. I’d like to forget that I’m adult, that there are dirty dishes and bad news waiting in the house.
What is your view of pain? she asked me.
I don’t know. I have no opinion of it whatsoever. I would like to find shelter among the close darkness of the tree roots, drinking sustenance from the earth like they do.
What is your view of pain?
I don’t know. Does Redemption Way really look like that—dappled shades of peaceful living?
No. It’s a road flooded with drama, lined with fire, set with sinkholes. You can lose your soul on Redemption Way.
I’d like to stay away from it if I can, sip that acorn tea.
But the goal here is to grow, not shrink.
With every bite you grow larger, Alice.
I suppose I must go through the looking glass to see Redemption Way for what it is. It looks red and screaming from one side; green and healing when I look back over my shoulder, seeing how He carried us.
I have redeemed you
I will be with you
They shall not overwhelm you
You shall not be burned
The flame shall not consume you
I have called you by name
You are mine.
All images owned by Shari Zook, with the obvious exception of The Scream, Edvard Munch, public domain in the United States.