The thorn in her heart was aching In a manner she could scarcely bear Would this cold pain keep her waking? Disbelieving He's no longer there In pursuit of her Great Longing She slipped out of bed in the dark-night She feared no longer belonging A fear greater than Fears out of sight Ceasing trembling and with great haste Knowing deep down what she must pursue She traveled to the trysting-place Because she knew He could make her new "Oh, my Great Lord, take me with you. Please, do not knowingly leave me here. I cannot bear life without you. I willingly follow anywhere."
my inspiration
The thorn in her heart was throbbing and aching in a manner she could scarcely bear.
Much-Afraid turned icy cold and her teeth chattered, but it was the pain in her heart which was the most awful part of her distress. It seemed to suffocate her as she lay there in bed. She sat up, shivering with cold and with the horror of the thought. She could not bear it if he had gone and left her behind… She must see for herself at once if he really had gone away and left her behind. She slipped out of bed, dressed herself as quickly as her shaking fingers would permit, and then unlocked the cottage door.
Opening the door, she went out in darkness. A hundred Craven Fears lurking in the lonely street could not have deterred her at that moment, for the pain in her heart swallowed up fear and everything else and drove her forth.
It came to her mind that he who understood her so well, who knew all about her fears and had compassion on her, would not leave until he was quite sure that she really meant to refuse to go with him.
Much-Afraid ceased trembling and said to herself, “I will go to the trysting-place, and see if He is waiting for me there.” With scarcely a word to the watchmen she turned and hurried southward, over the field where Craven Fear had met her toward the sheep pool.
“I knew you would come, ” he said gently… “I am here,” said Much-Afraid, still kneeling at his feet, “and I will go with you anywhere.”
Then the Shepherd took her by the hand and they started for the mountains.
Hannah Hurnard, Hinds’ Feet on High Places, Chapter Three.
