The Golden Key

by Jeanne Page

  Chapter Two

  Before the Throne

  The enormous royal chamber swathed in splendor and majesty engulfed the Servant Girl’s senses like the tallest ocean tidal wave crashing over a lone pebble on the sandy shore. Her mind had only moments to register flashes of bright emerald, crystal, and jasper; thunder rumblings of voices and singing; and the sweet smell of spices whirling about on a fragrant wind. The symphony of magnificent sights and sounds seemed to blur and fall silent in an instant, though, as her eyes were drawn from The Great White Throne, to focus instead on the Sovereign One who stood before it.

  “Oh…” she let out a tiny moan. “It’s Him.” She scarce could breathe. In her heart she scolded herself for not realizing that He would be here and she felt what little courage she had drain from her body like blood from a wound. “It’s the King’s Son.” The High King was indeed seated on the Throne, but His Son stood tall and regal before Him, facing her, with eyes that seemed to bore into her very soul.

  “It is,” confirmed her Companion with a smile and He started forward.

  “No, wait!” she cried, and she clung to Him. “You don’t understand!”

  Tingling nerves trembled beneath her skin and she felt lightheaded as her legs began to give away. She was so grateful when He encircled her with His arms and supported her in her weakness. “I do understand, little one,” He assured her. “But tell me anyway.”

  Even His comforting Presence could not ease the shame and fear now twisting every muscle in her body into a tight knot. The confession of her crime was forcing it’s way out and before it burst forth she painfully pleaded one last time for escape. “I shouldn’t be here…I can’t face Him! It was all my fault!”

  He nodded solemnly, and encouraged her to continue. “Tell me what happened, little one.”

  She exhaled in defeat and resigned herself to the consequences of this horrible confession. The tears flowed in streams down her cheeks and her story flowed like a muddy river from her heart, unstoppable now. Her head dropped and her quivering voice lowered to a whisper. “Years ago,” she said, “when I was but a child, I took something which was not mine to take.”

  He did not seem surprised by this admission. “What did you take, child?”

  She shook her head in dismay. “It seemed like such a small thing…some sweets that were prepared for a great feast.”

  “And?”

  She paused for she knew the repercussions of her disclosure, yet here and now she knew she could do no other. “When I was asked about them, I lied, and I blamed another child.” She sobbed. “That child was carried off to receive a beating and still I said nothing. Before I could run and hide myself, my lie was discovered.” She flinched as the memory pierced her heart and mind. “The Kitchen Steward raised his whip to beat me, and then…” She stopped. How could she possibly tell Him what happened next?

  He looked deep in her eyes, imparting courage. “Continue on, child.” He urged. “It is important.”

  Her spine curved with the weight of guilt on her back and shoulders, and she went limp in His arms. “The King’s Son stepped in front of me and took the blows Himself. The Kitchen Steward was in a rage and didn’t recognize the King’s Son…He was angry that someone would try to protect a liar and a thief, and he took his anger out on The Son.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “The Son did not fight back, or stop the Steward. He simply took my punishment as His own.” Each word painfully forced through her constricted throat stabbed like a knife. “As I stood behind Him, I could hear the beating that He endured, see His body convulse with each blow, and the blood from His wounds splattered upon me. They dragged Him away…”

  “Yes, child.” He said quietly. “I know all about it.”

  Startled, she looked up at Him, through wet tears clinging to her lashes. “You do?”

  “Yes. I know all there is to know about you.”

  She swallowed hard, uncomfortable with this revelation. “But don’t you see? I have been guilty of so much more since then and…there were rumors later…of His death…and of a miracle…I was so afraid that they were some how connected with what I’ve done.”

  He paused to wipe a tear from her cheek. “The rumors were true, little one, and they were connected with your crimes…and with the crimes of many others.” He motioned to where The Son was standing. “But you can see that He is alive--and waiting for you.”

  She dared a quick glance at The Throne. “But I am responsible for all that He endured!” she cried. “What if He remembers me? What if He knows what I have done?”

  “He does remember you,” He assured her. “And what He endured. And He remembers why He endured it.” Her Companion was smiling.

  She couldn’t understand why this would please Him and fear still wrapped its iron fingers around her heart. “Am I at last to receive the punishment for my crimes? Is that why I’m here?”

  “Oh no, child,” He soothed. He helped her to stand on her own again, and then took her hands in His. As a parent reassures a child he said, “This is not the Throne of Judgment and it is not why you were brought here. It is true that He has indeed taken the punishment for your acts, and He took it gladly. The fact that you were covered with His blood is the very reason that You are granted access to His Throne Room now.” He looked deep into her eyes. “This is not the Throne of Judgment. This is the Throne of Grace. You are called here tonight for a different purpose, entirely.” He smiled again at her. “Do you trust me?”

  She had said it before, and knew that she still meant it. “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Well, then, you must understand this. The King has summoned you, but see how His Son stands in front of the throne—between you and He?”

  She nodded.

  “It is because The King always sees His servants through the eyes of His Son.”

  She turned her head and her eyes dropped to the floor. What hope could she have that The Son would not denounce her before The King? Little lines of worry deepened across her forehead.

  “Look at Me and listen,” He said, and she obeyed. “The Son stands ready to recommend you to the King’s service. He is your Advocate, and He sent Me to summon you and to serve as your Companion. All of The King’s work involves His Son as well.” He extended His hand to her. “Come, child, we go together.”

  Warily, but willing, she clutched His hand tightly and He led her forward. On either side of the room she noticed the remnants of a rich and beautiful curtain that had been torn in two, still lying in two heaps, and she wondered why it was there. With her eyes downcast, she allowed herself to be led across the wide expanse of the royal chamber. It seemed like an eternity, but at last she stood, trembling, with bowed head before The Son. Here, before The Throne, before The King, and before The Son, it was too much for her little heart and she sank to her knees. Even on her knees, it did not feel low enough. She bent her body, and mind, and heart even lower in reverence to the Sovereign One on the Throne. Now prostrate with her face pressed against the floor, she wished that the earth would swallow her up and take her lower still. She sobbed quietly not knowing what else to do.

  And then, in the midst of her grief and agony, she heard the words that were like a warm blanket placed over her. The Son turned to The King and said simply. “She is mine, Father.”

  His? Hope fluttered in her heart and she caught her breath. Did she really hear Him say it? The words He had voiced were dripping with love, and mercy, and grace! She had felt immersed in it when He spoke. Yet still it seemed a mystery to her. This Royal Son had paid the ultimate price, made the ultimate sacrifice… for her. Was there no condemnation for her, for her crimes? Oh joy of joy--was she really His? She wept tears that seemed to come from a deeper place within her, and her mind really couldn’t comprehend the meaning of it all. Is there mercy for me? Her heart cried out. Is there truly mercy for me?

  The response to her heart’s cry seemed to echo three-fold in the vast chamber “Our mercy, and gr
ace, and love abound to you, beloved child of The King.”

  Tears streamed down her cheeks. Those precious words continued to echo in her heart and mind over and over and over again. She knew they were words of Truth because of The Person who spoke them. She was forgiven! The Servant Girl was so overcome with emotion that she was sure she would spend an eternity in a heap on the floor. Mercy…she would not receive the condemnation she deserved. Grace…instead she was blessed with Their Presence. Love…oh, sweet sacrificial love that only the Royal One could truly impart! How could this be? As she wrestled with understanding, her Companion whispered to her, “It is good and right that you pay homage to your King, child. You have done well.” She felt Him take her hand. “But now, come. Look full into His face,” and He helped her to her feet. As she lifted her head and gazed into the smiling eyes of The Son, her heart pounded with joy. She could not tear her eyes from His, for somehow there existed an unbreakable bond between them now and there was no need for words. There was forgiveness, in His eyes…and yes, mercy…and grace…and love! And now something happened that she had not expected. A fountain of love for the One who had invaded her senses sprang to life within her own heart and all of the waters flowed straight to Him. He was altogether lovely, had loved her first with the ultimate sacrificial love, and her heart could do nothing else but love Him back.

  Had she known that all of her fears could be extinguished in an instant she would have come running to this place without hesitation. Why had she put herself through such agony? Why had she resisted the call of her Companion? She was His! Her heart was so full that she thought her knees might buckle beneath her again, and she still could not bring herself to utter any words, though her heart sang with grateful praises. She looked to her Companion and as He promised, He spoke for her. “Your child is here and waits for Your command.”

  The Son moved, then, to sit at the right hand of His Father, and the King finally spoke with a voice as thunder. “Tell me, child, about the dream you had tonight.”

  Did she dare? She remembered the words of her Companion, Never dare to be anything but completely truthful to Him, and took a deep breath. “Even though I am Your Servant, O King, I have always served You from afar,” she said. She hesitated for just a moment, wondering about confessing such things to Him, but remembering all that she had seen in The Son’s eyes, she continued, “Tonight I dreamed that I could come closer, so that I could really know You. I longed to love You as a Servant loves her King, and I longed to serve You more completely.” She glanced at her Companion and He smiled encouragement to her. “I was afraid to tell you of my dream, because I know I’m not worthy of the things I long for.”

  The King smiled His approval. “Child, you must understand that the gifts I bestow on My children are given not because they are worthy, but because I am. It is indeed a great thing that you long for, but you would not have dreamed this dream if I had not already determined to give you exactly this desire of your heart.” He leaned forward. “You will know Me, child, and Your love for Me will grow out of that knowing. Do you believe that I will keep this promise?”

  “Oh yes, my Lord!” she assured Him, and a smile broke across her face, for she truly did believe Him. Still, she worried, for she knew that she was really not worthy of performing any work other than those menial tasks she did daily for Him. How could she express to Him her concerns? Her Companion spoke up again. “She is worried that she will not be able to keep her promise to You, O King, and that she will fail You in what ever act of service You give for her to perform.” With a grateful smile to her Companion she then looked to her King for His reply.

  “Child,” The King said. “I will never ask you to do something unless I have first prepared you for that service and prepared a way for you to accomplish it. You must trust Me, and that I know what you are capable of.” Her eyes widened in astonishment as He revealed an amazing promise to her, “Also, I will never send you alone. I will be with you. My Son will be with you. And your Companion will be with you.” He smiled at her as what this meant sunk deep into her heart. “I do indeed have a task for you,” He added, “and a gift…”

  Questions for Reflection

  What do you imagine the Throne Room to look like?

  How would you describe the experience of entering "The Throne Room" of prayer?

  Were you surprised to find the Son there as well as the King?

  When you pray, are you aware of the presence of all three persons of the Trinity?

  Have you ever been afraid to approach God in prayer?

  How do you feel knowing that God knows all you might say before you say it?

  Why is it important for us to say it anyway?

  What does it mean to pray with an attitude of humility?

  How do we balance an attitude of humility with praying boldly?

  How does knowing that it is a "Throne of Grace" (and not a Throne of Judgment) impact our prayer lives?

  Do you ever doubt your love for Jesus?

  Do you ever doubt His love for you?

  Why was the Son standing between the King and the Servant Girl?

  What did it mean to the Servant Girl that the torn curtain was lying in the Throne Room?

  What does it mean to you to be aware of "the posture of your soul?"

  What does it mean to you to be "at the feet of Jesus?"

  How are "mercy," "grace," and "forgiveness" different and what does each mean to you?

  What did the King mean when He said that He bestowed gifts on His children because HE was worthy?

  Do you believe that God will only ask you to perform a service if He has already prepared you to do it?