Songs of Deliverance

Pain offers a distraction. The Man slumps against the slimy wall, clenching his jaw against the pain. At this moment, he sincerely gives thanks from the bottom of his heart that he no longer has family. In this season, the premature loss is a gift. The Enemy arrested him while he preached the good news in the slum. The Man was transferred to this prison and thrown into solitary confinement, but not before cutting out his tongue. The Man considers the last scene he witnessed prior to his arrest. Hundreds and hundreds of people kneeled in the city square, weeping for their sins while crying out for forgiveness. He thinks, "What a glorious sight." And smiles despite the pain, "It was worth the price of admission to this cell. The enemy might have done me a favor. After all, the tongue 'is a restless evil' and all that." The Man listens to the sounds of prison. Water drips. Men groan. Faint screaming and laughter add to the ambiance. His mouth throbs painfully to the rhythm of his heart. The blood oozing from the barren root of this tongue, requiring that he spit out the blood. He starts mentally repeating, "The Lord is good, and His mercy endures forever. Blessed be the name of the Lord," in time with the throbbing. Peace surrounds him. He falls into an exhausted sleep just as the cock crows for the first time. The Man awakes the next morning and runs his tongue along his teeth, wishing for a bit of toothpaste. He remembers the previous night's torture and freezes. He wiggles his tongue again. Yes, it is restored. He takes a deep breath and whoops for joy. He jumps up, slipping a bit on the slimy floor, and does a happy dance. He enjoys the new tongue by praising the Holy One. The Man laughs and starts a psalm, one well-known that tells of war and deliverance. The other prisoners are gripped by awe and concern but listen to the psalm. Hope starts to flicker in the breast of each prisoner. If screams of pain can be turned into songs, hope must be possible, along with love and faith. Suddenly, a new song bursts forth, beautiful and clear. This song is so compelling that others in the prison participate, those who recognize it for what it is. Some prisoners smile and clap, humming along. Eventually, others join the song, spontaneously harmonizing, adding depth and richness to the lovely melody. The lyrics are simple, so all can follow. As the chorus swells, voices blend in one accord, despite the walls separating them, the prison shakes violently. The Man transitions to prayer, gently rocking back and forth. He forgives the Enemy and prays for his soul and those around him. He gives his Healer glory and honor for His kindness. Slowly, peace surrounds the Man. He feels blanketed by comfort. Fatigue eventually overtakes him, and he passes out on the floor. The next afternoon the door slams open. The Enemy wears a fierce scowl and crumpled desert camouflage, salty sweat rings growing under his armpits. He eyes the Man with visible scorn, but wiser eyes would recognize the Enemy's underlying wariness. The Man blinks sleepily at dusty well-worn boots and looks up. The oddity of the situation strikes him, and he must stifle a giggle. Not that he wants to giggle in mockery. No, hope along with the memory of pain causes joy to bubble up. El Elyon Jehovah Rapha healed him! His enemy does his worst, yet the Man lives to testify. "Testify!" the word resounds in the Man's spirit, so he takes a deep breath and says, "I suppose you are wondering what happened..." He speaks quickly, looking at the ground submissively, not wanting to give the Enemy an opportunity to abuse him. The Man risks a glance up. The Enemy listens, growing increasingly agitated and turning a lovely eggplant color. "Enough!!" he screams, spital hitting the man in his eyes. The Man does not flinch but quickly looks down. He knows he has pushed the Enemy as far as possible, perhaps too far. The Enemy considers the dilemma. This man's god seems powerful, yet it beggars his imagination that this god is greater than the one that rules him. He considers the options. Doubt pushes curiosity and hope to the side, making way for fear and duty. The Enemy rolls up his sleeves. After all, he does have a job to do. Hours later, the Man ponders the searing pain, ruefully rubbing his jaw. The tears roll down his face, which causes stinging as salt enters the new cuts. The Man sees nothing for there is no light to illumine this place; so, he imagines the beautiful new tongue lying on the bloody floor somewhere next to where he currently sits, slumped against the wall. The Enemy cut his cheeks, slicing through to access his tongue in a novel way – just for good measure. Then, the masochist cauterized his wounds. He couldn't let the Man die prematurely after all. The Man badly wants to pray but cannot utter a word. The pain throbs, but the tears eventually dry. He eventually remembers this psalm, "Father, this poor man cries out, and You hear him; You will save him from all his troubles. The angel of the LORD encamps around those who fear Him, and he delivers them…" The Man shudders from pain commingled with fatigue, finally passing out. He awakens around midnight to find his mouth, face, and tongue entirely restored! An observer would note that a silvery scar traces the path of the Enemy's knife, that is if one could see in pitch-black darkness. The Man works his jaw in utter amazement. One new tongue seems generous, but another new tongue and a restored mouth…? "This is utterly extravagant, O Lord," he mumbles, savoring the words and clicking his tongue with relish, "Your gracious kindness is unlimited!" ...the Man throws his head back and laughs for joy...