-The Kings Fields-
If you were to sail westward over the seas, and follow the signs in the heavens as you did so, you would arrive at a field of red sand that spans the horizon.
Anciently, this beach was the site of a great battle where a once glorious people were saved from destruction by a meek but mighty king. Their would-be conquerors, skilled in the manner of war, fell upon them in great fury, wielding blades tipped with sinister poisons. These poisons weakened their victims’ hearts before depriving them of life, as the enemy sought to add to their numbers by capturing the hearts of the people. With each inflicted wound, the enemy gained control of the victim’s will.
For days the battle raged, and the defenders of the land were weakening. A good number had been turned to the enemy. Those who struggled to defend the land were beginning to perish. Their bodies sagged and their spirits wilted. Their muscles had withered to the point that they could no longer grasp their swords and could only barely lift their shields in defense. Their weakness had become so great that they almost would have done anything their enemies willed them to do.
At this critical point in the battle, the king – The lone unwounded soul – turned to look at his people. He barely recognized them. The mighty warriors he had fought with for ages now drooped and slumped and stumbled. Their skin sagged, and fear show in their eyes. The king looked back at the host of his foes, who laughed almost in unison. Their victory was close at hand, and they rejoiced in it.
Only one hope remained for the king’s people—a maneuver in warfare that had never before been tried, as no ruler under the heavens had enough love or courage to do it. Even at this moment the king wished there was some other way. But another glance at his ever-weakening people told him there was not.
So the king turned back to the enemies who desired his weakness and death. And he dropped his shield to the ground.
An exultant cry pierced the air, and all the hosts of the enemy turned from their individual battles and rushed upon the defenseless king. They fell upon him in their full strength and fury, in order to end the battle for all time. They were confident that if he weakened, even in the slightest degree, there would be none to protect and heal his people. The battle would end his and their deaths, and he and his people would be lost from under the heavens.
“But what could be gained by the king’s action?” you might ask. “What would cause the king to make such an offering?”
A single hope upon which the fate of his entire people rested. You see, as the king opened himself to the weapons of the enemy, he took within himself the blades that had pierced the flesh and hearts of each of his people. If he could take each of those will-defeating blades within himself and yet remain pure, not yielding to the will of the enemy, he would overcome the poisons that had corrupted his people, and his pure heart would become the antidote to each and every poison.
The enemy rejoiced because no soul under heaven had ever been able to overcome their poison. One blade’s poison perhaps, or maybe two. But dozens or thousands? No. Millions or trillions? An impossibility. They needed only to capture the king’s will and all would be over. So, thirsting for victory, they pierced the king’s flesh and soul with every weapon they had used to weaken each of his people.
How long this torture continued no one can say. When the king lovingly roused his people back to consciousness, however, they witnessed a beach – once bright white – that now lay blood-red as far as the eye could see.
Although the people survived, their strength did not return. As long as the poison remained in their souls, their hearts and bodies remained weak.
“But the king can return their strength to them!” you might say.
Yes, but they had to let him. You see, the poison had a final debilitating effect: It induced those it had weakened to believe they were yet strong. The people’s outward strength would return to them only as they came to recognize how weak they were within and then turned for strength to the only one in their kingdom who had uncorrupted strength to give.
Broken souls can be healed only by one who takes that brokenness upon himself bud doesn’t break. Having overcome the particular strains of brokenness that each of us suffers from, the unbroken one can then give us his victorious, unbroken will. This is precisely what the Savior has done for each of us. He suffered our pains, afflictions, and temptations, and took upon himself our sins and infirmities. His suffering on our behalf was literally seared into his flesh. Taking all of this upon and within himself, we have become ‘members of his body, of his flesh, and of his bones.’ As Isaiah put it, ‘ he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we {may be} healed.’ ‘I am able to make you holy,’ the Lord declares. But he will not – in fact, cannot – do this for us unless we let him.
~May we stop pushing the Savior away. He suffered so that he could help you. Let him in so that he can take away that “favorite sin” or “poison”, the sin we keep going back to time and time again. Don’t just believe that Jesus can help you, but that he WANTS to help you. I bare testimony that he wants to help you and will help and heal us all if we let him in.
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