“State your purpose,” it demanded, and Lilith smiled. The snake was barely able to raise its head above the ground, and she towered over it.
“A win-win plan,” she stated. Lilith had intended to go directly to Adam, but alliance with the beast could be helpful if Adam needed to be persuaded.
“I am listening,” the creature replied.
“I heard Adonai’s promise to Eve, that her child would one day crush your head.”
“I have had better days. What do you propose?”
“As long as Eve remains in Eden, she can’t bear a child. Could one who has the power to crush your head be born apart from Adam? If they remain apart, won’t you rule in safety?”
The serpent was silent for a long time before speaking. Finally it said, “Adam is inconsolable. He seeks any means to bring her here.”
“He turned his face from God and from his counterpart. He is alone, but I can ease his loneliness.”
The beast understood. “You? You would offer yourself to him? Why?”
“To keep Mother Eve safe, and many others.”
“Ah, you are Eve’s daughter. But that makes you all the more dangerous, to Adam and to me. Adonai said her seed would crush my head, but could not that seed be you?”
Lilith was ready. “No! Eve said it would be a man-child. I was prepared for such a choice as this. I cannot bear a child and will never be a threat. I can serve a purpose both to Adam and to Eve.”
“And why would Adam want a miserable nothing nobody like you, who willingly would sell herself for this purpose?”
The serpent spoke the truth about her. She stopped walking and scowled down at it. “You think I am a whore? Does it matter if I am? No. What matters is that we will all get exactly what we want.”
The snake coiled itself as if to strike, then rested its head upon the ground. “Adam’s darkness is maturing, but it can’t compare with yours. You either have no idea who you are, or you no longer care. I will find Adam.”
The serpent slithered out of sight, leaving Lilith shivering in the early evening cool. She sat on a rock, looking down at dirty hands and legs, her dress torn ragged by thistles and thorns. A brook and pond sang their innocent song, and Lilith washed her hands and face. A lingering sun reflected off its mirrored surface, and she beheld a young girl’s face that was strong and full of promise. Running her hand through the image, it rippled out and away. It only told the lie, not the truth beneath it.
Soon she heard Adam’s approach in heated conversation, but when he saw her, he stopped and stared, until Lilith became uncomfortable.
“Who sent you here?”
“Eve. She loves you and is sad that you are lonely.” It wasn’t an outright lie but was probably as far as truth could be bent without completely breaking. “Adam, I will be your companion. Leave Eve with God in Eden. She’s better off there. With me you won’t feel alone. I can satisfy you. Leave her with God, I beg you.”
Adam raised a hand to silence her and think.
“You are right,” he finally said. “I have been thinking only of myself and the things that I have lost. I understand clearly. I will no longer go each day and beg for her to leave and come to me. She is in the better place, where toil is not her existence and she is embraced by God’s Love.”
He sat down on the ground and repeatedly threw dirt up on his head, moaning, “I miss her to my bones. Each day I feel less reason to be living.”
Lilith took a spot next to him on the ground, close but not touching. Adam’s tears mixed with the dirt, and mud became his shroud. Without looking he reached out and took her hand.
“The serpent tells me you are Eve’s daughter? Truly?”
“I am.”
“And you would do this for your mother? Become my wife?”
“Yes, by my own choice.”
“Can you promise me a son?”
And in that question Lilith was trapped. Did Adam know? Had the serpent told him? If she lied and he knew it, that could be the end of her plans. If she told the truth, that could also be the end.
“Some things take time and—”
“Lilith.” Adam squeezed her hand. “Can you promise me a son?”
Despair descended and gripped her heart, the words barely able to form. “No, Adam, I cannot.”
“Look at me,” he said tenderly. As difficult as it was, she raised her head and looked into his dark and gold-flecked eyes, his face a mess of dirt and tears, a tired smile embedded there.
“Even if you could promise me a son, I would have said no. Eve is my beloved and I will learn to live without her. I will not betray her a second time. Lilith, Eve has no substitute and neither do you. This deceptive darkness I perceive in you, that would cause you to sell yourself for less than love, I know I am its source. One day, perhaps, you will find a place within your heart to forgive me too, for I must be your father.”
Lilith came undone. She had been rejected. Her fury toward the men who had made her this damaged property now fueled her own self-loathing. She wrenched herself away from Adam and stood.
“I hate you!” she snarled, and turning, ran into the darkness of the forest. Adam let her go. The only thing left for her was to find a place to die.
• • •
JOHN RUSHED INTO THE room where Gerald and Anita were poring over books.
“Lilly has taken a turn for the worse,” he announced.
“Who is watching her?” snapped Anita like a brooding mother hen.
“Letty is with her,” replied John.
“I was afraid of this,” moaned Gerald, slamming the tome he had been reading down on the table. He picked it up and slammed it down again. “I can’t find what it is that is catalyzing the poison. We know its chemical breakdown, we know the plants from which it is derived, we have given her every variation of antidote and antitoxin and anti-everything, but she is dying and I feel completely helpless. And I’ve been praying too, in case you are wondering. Haven’t stopped praying.”
“Me too, Gerald, me too!” Anita whispered.
She wrapped her arms around her husband and he let her hold him, the sobs of his pent-up frustration finding some release.
“Maybe there isn’t a cure,” John suggested.
“What do you mean?” asked Anita. “There has to be one.”
“Not if the poison is not biological or chemical or neurological. What if what Lilly saw in that mirror took away her hope? Or her sense of meaning?”
“Or significance or love,” added Anita. “That makes sense. Without hope, even an otherwise healthy person can die. And Lilly had barely begun to heal physically, much less emotionally.”
“If this is true,” Gerald said, “what do we do?”
“Gerald, you’ve already said it,” John said. “We do the only thing we know to do and leave the rest to God. We will pray and sing and talk to her, and anoint her with oil. Are we not elders?”
Letty poked her head into the room. “Pardon my intrusion, but I have news. Don’t look at me that way, Anita. Lilly is never left alone. The Caretaker is arriving tomorrow, but we don’t know for whom he’s coming. Possibly Lilly.”
It was an unexpected blow and John recovered first. “Then we had better get busy praying and anointing, shouldn’t we? I know prayer is never magic or any other kind of manipulation, but right now, I am prepared to bargain with my life.”
• • •
LILITH’S LAST HOPE WAS that death would find her quickly and painlessly. She curled up in a little ball under a massive, ancient tree. The irony of trying to stay warm while trying to die didn’t escape her. Sometimes natural survival mechanisms were a nuisance.
She could feel her soul slowly leaking out her life, fractured and full of holes that even lies could no longer seal. Her last words screamed at Adam were the ultimate proof of a wasted life. In this moment she was brutally honest: she hated everything. “Damn you, Adam! Damn you, God! Damn me! Damn us all!” she shouted. But who was she to make such withe
ring pronouncements? She was nothing and no one.
It was as if someone had captured her entire life in a series of photographs. Lying there dying, she was forced to look at every one. Each picture of a memory was one more accusation. There was no Good in her.
Whether dreaming or delusional, she danced in ragged clothes, surrounded by broken toys and the clicks of locking doors. And in the mix of harsh colors, and as the music slowly faded away, she thought she glimpsed Adonai’s presence but then turned away. Peace washed over her. She was glad to die. Finally she would find the rest that would sweep her cares away. Heaven was no option, but hell could not be worse than the life she’d known.
There He was again, offering a smile, a kind look, a brief touch as she tried again to turn away.
The leafy branches she had gathered for a last bed now seemed a living cushion, the weight of her life lifted and held in tender mercy. Her last thought as the darkness of unconsciousness descended was, “If dying is this easy, I should have done it sooner.”
Eighteen
* * *
FACE-TO-FACE
They were not soft branches that held her but the strong and tender arms of Adonai. He sat under the ancient tree and sang to her an ancient song of stars and of Beginnings, of joy and hope and all things Love where nothing was unkind. It was the sweet song of healing and rest. It called to deepest longings and welcomed her like home was always meant to.
Taking a deep breath, Lilly slowly opened her eyes. At another place and time she would have denied His presence, but here and now it felt as though nothing else had ever been as real. She was done with all her running, had fallen and hit the ground, then finally found a place on which to rest. So she did what any child would do. Turning, she buried her face into His chest, sobbing, tears cascading as He wrapped His peace and love around her.
She had been waiting her entire life for this. She was knowing and being known beyond understanding, grasping the deepest mystery of why music invades, ignites, and then dwells in the soul, finding a forever habitation. There was nothing she wanted other than to be completely found inside this Eternal Man, to be heard and seen and celebrated.
“Lilly, it is you I love,” came the voice like healing waters. The words themselves were living and dismantling. She felt that she would never have to hear another sound or syllable. This was sufficient, and in this firm and everlasting embrace, all that had been broken or stolen could be found, restored, and celebrated.
“Lilly, do you trust Me?” It was a question not about belief but about person, character, and relationship, and only asked for this solitary moment suspended in the fabric of the time’s cosmos. It needed no justification, reason, or defense. It was simple and clean, and so too was her immediate response, delivered in a mixture of snot and tears.
“I do.” And she meant it but even as she said it she felt herself resisting.
Internally Lilly stepped back a bit. “I mean, I really want to.”
The hug squeezed a bit tighter and Adonai spoke. “Lilly, you have always been worthy of being loved and I have always loved you. That has always been true, but you didn’t know.”
If there was anything deeper to undo, any lies, insinuations, or accusations that were closer to the bedrock of her self-awareness, she couldn’t have imagined it. She let the waves engulf her and sweep her back together, the fiery flame of His affection disintegrating everything that was not Love. For a moment it felt as if nothing would remain, but that thought itself ignited and burned away and she no longer cared, because in this single moment she trusted.
When the tumult and tides all settled down, Lilly realized that she was still curled up on Adonai’s lap as He leaned against the tree.
“Lilly,”—Eternal Man’s voice was gentle—“trust is about relationship, not power. When two dance, each is always respectfully attuned to the other. There is a timing to relationship, and that is Ruach’s playground.”
“And You trust the Holy Spirit?”
“I do,” Adonai laughed. “I mean, I really want to.”
Now Lilly laughed, recognizing her own words. “Trust has never been an easy thing,” she said with a sigh.
“It is not a thing at all, Lilly. It is the giving of your very self to another, to be weak and naked and unashamed. You have history and experience that tells you trust is a mountain impossible to climb. But you can and will.”
“Will I, Adonai? Will I ever climb that mountain?”
“Yes, dear one, you already are climbing, one step at a time, and not alone.”
She leaned back against his chest and closed her eyes, letting the sun caress her face and the sounds of insect activity capture her attention.
“How did You find me? I was sure I was going to die. It seemed easier for everyone, especially me.”
“You have never been lost to Me. Lost to yourself, but not to Me.”
That made Lilly smile, comforted and assured. “Now what? Can we stay here like this forever?”
“Come,” He said, and standing up, He lifted her to her feet. “Lilly, do you trust Me?”
“I do!” And together they walked holding hands until they rounded the bend of a creek and she saw the fire of Eden’s boundary.
“What are we doing here?” she asked, perplexed and anxious.
“I am here to take you back inside. Lilly, do you trust me?”
“I can’t go through there,” she gasped. “I don’t belong there.”
“You are partly right. Lilith can’t go through the fire, but Lilly can, and it is Lilly who has always belonged here.”
Another choice, another crossroad. To dare to enter through that wall would mean that lies would be burned away. Could she let Lilith go? She felt an intense war within, as if Lilith were pleading.
“Lilly,” Adonai said, “look up and into My face. I am here and will never leave you. In any dance you sometimes lead, but always both submit. So now, dear Lilly, you must choose, and I submit to you.”
Holding out both hands, Eternal Man now backed into the fire. As he did, His eyes turned into flames, His robe cascading brilliant light, His feet like burnished brass.
Three times He had asked her to trust, and for the third time she made her choice. Reaching up, she took His hands, and He slowly led her inward until they were engulfed in a mass of blazing fire. The pain of holy judgment poured through her like a torrent raging and she gave herself to it, allowing it to rend from her the lies that had inhabited her spirit, soul, and body.
And when it seemed that all was undone and nothing remained, Almighty Voice of furious Love made an ultimate declaration. “Whatever is alive will never die, and what is dead will be completely burned away.”
Lilly stepped through and opened up her eyes.
• • •
“LETTY?” SHE RASPED. “WHAT are you doing here?”
“I’m knitting. Can’t you see? Knitting!” As if nothing had happened, the tiny woman returned to her familiar and welcome humming and her knitting.
“Where are we?”
“You are back in your room in the Refuge. The others have gone to catch some sleep. You have kept them up long hours, but your fever finally broke awhile ago and already you are rapidly improving, praise be to God. We thought you were a goner.”
Lilly laughed, her voice hoarse. “A goner? Really? So you drew night duty? Shortest straw?”
“I volunteered. I don’t need sleep like the others.” Letty allowed her needles to rest in her lap a moment, and she leaned in close to Lilly’s face. “What happened, Lilly? What brought you back? We thought you had lost all hope and we didn’t know how to reach you.”
“Adonai!” Lilly cleared her throat. “Adonai made the difference. He came and found me and healed me inside fire.”
“Ah, yes!” Letty smiled. “Everyone goes through fire, dear one, but the flame of His affection is for not against you. It purifies anything that is not Love.”
“Is it permanent?”
T
hat made Letty laugh. “Hah, dear one, the truth is always permanent, but you will still have to work out your new life with trepidation and trembling, being as you are so fragile and naked.”
“We were created to be that way, weren’t we? Naked and unashamed?”
“Indeed.” The little woman nodded, concentrating on her needlework once again.
“Letty, what are you making?” Lilly asked, curious. “It doesn’t seem like knitting is anyone’s thing around here.”
“I actually have no idea, but it helps me think and pray. I have dozens of these . . . these things that have no rhyme or reason. One day I will gather them all up and see if together they make any sense.”
“You are the best,” Lilly said with a giggle, letting the quiet of the night enfold them. Finally, Letty put down her tools and spoke, in a different tone entirely.
“Lilly, I have a confession to make.”
“You did something wrong?”
“Oh no, not that kind of confession. This is more like saying out loud something that you have been keeping to yourself.”
“Great, more secrets. I’m done with secrets.”
“No, not a secret either. A good surprise that has been waiting for the right time.”
“So is this the right time?”
“It is. Lilly, I am not exactly, well, I don’t really know how to say this, but I am not human.”
“Really?” Lilly laughed as if it were a shock. “That’s your surprise? Letty, I was never sure what you were, but human wasn’t one of my guesses. So, if not human, then what are you?”
“Well?” She let out a little laugh. She was enjoying this. But the chuckle then led to a giggle, and that to a snort, which got them both laughing.
“Just tell me already,” Lilly insisted between her chuckles.
When Letty had finally settled down enough, she leaned forward, the clicking of her needles resuming again. “You know that Han-el is John’s Guardian, right?” Lilly nodded. The woman waited a moment. “Well, I am yours.”
“Mine?” Lilly was completely surprised. “Like my Angel Guardian?”