Walk With Me (30 page)

“But you get so caught up in walking and gathering food,” she said. “Sometimes I really wonder if you still love me.”

“How was it for you in the Desolate Canyon?” he said gently. “I really want to hear.”

Celeste took a deep breath. Warmed by the kindling’s fire, she gathered her courage to share again with Peter. Slowly she began
to tell him how lonely she had been, and how hurt she had felt when she learned of the honey woman. She didn’t think it was time yet to tell him about Skull Hill, but she did tell him that she was learning to rely on the King to meet her needs and not Peter.

When Peter heard this, he was relieved, for he had felt so overwhelmed trying to care for Celeste.

“You know sometimes,” Celeste said, “I think you’d rather not be married.”

“Being partners has turned out so much harder than I expected,” Peter admitted. “I used to have such warm deep feelings for you, and now I often don’t feel anything.”

Celeste wasn’t offended. “It’s that way for me too sometimes. But I want to remain faithful to the vows I made with you, regardless of how I feel. It’s hard though, and sometimes I sense myself pulling away from you and becoming distant.”

Peter put more wood on the fire. “You know, when we were at the Valley of the Cut Cords, I realized how much duller my journey would have been without you.”

“Really?” Celeste brightened. “You really thought that?”

“I’ve wondered if you love the little travelers more than you love me,” Peter said. “You spend so much time with them, and it takes you so long to put them to bed at night and then you are too tired to drink from the chalice. When you wake up, the first thing you say is, ‘I wonder how the little travelers are doing.’ I think if I disappeared, it wouldn’t really bother you—you’d be happy enough with the little travelers.”

Celeste had never imagined that Peter felt that way. She took his hand. “Oh Peter, what would I have done without you? You
were brave enough to ignore Mr. One Verse and leave Pigeon Hole, and you rescued all of us from the Orchard of Earthly Delights.”

The fire burned on, warming them as they talked into the night. Although Peter didn’t tell Celeste about his postcards, he talked about the chalice and how important it was to him. And Celeste told him how much she needed time alone with him before they drank from it. They listened with kindness and gentleness to each other, and as they shared their joys and sorrows, the numbness left Celeste’s heart, and Peter’s cold fear thawed.

In my dream, I saw that when morning came, the sky had cleared to a brilliant blue. Outside the warming hut, Peter and Celeste looked around in astonishment. They hadn’t realized that as they hiked in the fog, they had been climbing a Mountain of Maturity. Now they found themselves in a velvet green meadow that seemed to float high above the rest of the world. Ahead of them on the horizon, the King’s City rose even higher.

“I can’t believe it!” Celeste said. “We’ve reached the Highlands.”

Just then, a mountain guide was walking by. When Patience heard what Celeste said, he laughed. “Most people who reach the Highlands have the same reaction. You have taken a slow and gradual ascent up the Mountains of Maturity, and Skull Hill blocked the last view of the Highlands for you. You were walking in faith for quite some time.”

“We almost lost all hope,” Peter said.

“But no matter how hard the path was, you remained committed to each other, and now you see the reward for your faithfulness.”

Peter and Celeste smiled, thankful they had not given up.

“You must be hungry from the climb. Here, take some of this.” Patience offered them some milk, and it was like nothing they had ever tasted, so rich and creamy. Then he gave them honey made from the highland flowers.

Peter and Celeste spent the rest of the morning exploring the Highlands. Flocks of sheep and herds of cattle grazed in the fields with bells around their necks ringing out between the Peaks of Maturity. In some places, purple and yellow and pink flowers flowed like bands of the rainbow through the mountain crevices.

They saw many travelers they had met on their journey, though at first Peter and Celeste barely recognized their old friends. For people who reached the pastures moved with the joy and freedom of well-loved children, appearing younger, not older.

On the way back to the hut, Peter wanted to take a path that followed beside a roaring cascade. The water’s mist drenched them, but Celeste did not grumble about getting wet. In fact, she was thankful because it was getting hot in the sun and the mist kept them cool.

“Thank you for not complaining about this way,” Peter said.

“Oh Peter, I am so sorry for the way I used to gripe all the time. How frustrating that must have been for you. Sometimes I wonder why you put up with me.”

“Because I love you,” he said. Then a shadow came to his face. “I am sorry for going off with the honey woman. You were patient
with me then. What I did was so wrong.”

“But it would have never happened if we had avoided Desolate Canyon, and that was as much my fault as yours. And I am to blame that you found her words so sweet, for I wasn’t a pleasant companion. But you left her and came back, and I know that couldn’t have been easy.” Celeste saw Peter tremble. She touched his arm and said, “It’s all right.”

Peter looked across the mountain peaks. “I have never done anything so difficult. I felt like I was going to my death, and a dream did die. Then when I came back and you were hurt and angry, I wondered if I had made the right choice. But I know now that I did—and I am so grateful that the King saved me.”

Celeste thought of her own dying. “How could we ever do this without the Servant?”

Soon after they returned to the warming hut, a guide came by. “I wanted to check that you have everything that you need,” Understanding said. “I see you used the kindling of affection. Very good.”

“But why didn’t you come to see us last night?”

“You didn’t need me, did you?”

“No, we had a very nice time talking.”

“We generally think it’s best for partners to spend time alone listening and sharing with each other. A guide only comes to help if they need a referee or a little instruction.”

The guide filled up the firebox with more kindling and before he left them, he said, “Don’t forget that you were made for giving as much as you were made for receiving. That’s how to discover all of who you are.”

Peter and Celeste stayed at the warming hut for several days. When they continued their journey again, the paths in the Highlands were steeper and more challenging than anything they had encountered before. They were glad to discover that they had developed new strength, for the views were clearer and more spectacular, and the King’s City was always in sight. Often Celeste would sing one of the King’s song to lighten their hearts as they climbed:

However, Peter and Celeste were still hampered by their wounds, and they could not take the highest paths. They used the rag of compassion often, but some of their wounds were too deep.
As they struggled along, they came to a guide sitting by the path.

“Dear travelers, I can see your journey has been rough,” Peace said. “Ahead you will find the Healing Springs of Restoration where you can recover from your most serious wounds.” He showed them on the map how to get to the springs and told them to pay attention, for the turn was easy to miss.

They followed his directions until they came to a huge boulder that blocked the path. “I don’t think this is right,” Peter said. “There doesn’t seem to be a way around the boulder. We must have passed a turn back there.”

“No, we were very careful to follow the directions Peace gave us.”

Then Peter noticed a small sign in front of an area of thick brush. “Healing Springs of Restoration,” the sign said, with an arrow pointing through the brush.

“No wonder people miss the turn,” Peter said. “We’re going to have to crawl on our hands and knees to follow the path, and that will be difficult with our blisters and sore muscles.”

“I wouldn’t have been so eager to go this way earlier in our journey,” Celeste said. Kneeling, they pushed their bags in front of them and crawled a short way into a broad, sunlit spot. Before them a chain of hot springs from the King’s City bubbled out of the rocks. In the center was a deep, broad pool, as blue as the sky.

Peter put his toe in. “Oh Celeste, this is the most delightful water I have ever touched—warm but fresh, flowing strong but soothing.” The water, filled with the power of grace, tingled his skin.

But Celeste hesitated. The reflection she saw revealed all the dirt of her sin. She realized that when she entered the pool she
would muddy the water, and she wished she could get clean first. Then she became afraid. Dirty and disgraceful as she was now, she was sure the King would disown her. A condemning buzz in her head told her she did not deserve to be healed.

Then she heard the King say, “Can you love yourself like you love others? Be bold; you are free.”

Celeste remembered one of the King’s songs: “You are a compassionate and gracious King, slow to anger, and overflowing with love and faithfulness. Have mercy on me.” She stepped into the pool and as soon as her feet touched the water, the dirt on them vanished, leaving a sharp line between her ankles and her now spotless feet. And the graceful water remained as clear as before.

Peter and Celeste sank into the pool. Sitting in the transparent water, they began to see more clearly their own weaknesses and sins. Yet as soon as a cold wave of shame came over them, a warm surge of water welled up and pushed it away. And a chorus rose up from the springs singing:

Then the water bubbled with greater strength, massaging their wounds: every injury they had received, every anguish they had felt. In the warm healing water, they soaked in the forgiveness of the King, and the painful memories dissolved away. When Celeste looked at Peter’s wounds, she was filled with compassion for what he had suffered. She dipped the rag of compassion in the water and began to caress his hurts. There were the bruises where she had hit him with her club, a gash from when he had fallen on the rocks with the honey woman, and the lava burns from the Vehement Volcano.

Some of his wounds had become infected. “I’m afraid to scrape away the scabs,” she told Peter. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Don’t stop. That is the most loving touch I have ever felt,” he said.

As she continued to wash his hurts, she started to cry, and her tears softened his skin.

“Don’t you feel any pain?” she asked, for at that moment she was cleaning the biggest, ugliest wound on his back.

“I feel love and grace—and such an amazing kindness.”

When Celeste finished treating Peter’s injuries, she leaned back against the side of the pool and thought back to when she had desperately wanted Peter to make her complete. Now all she wanted to do was to help him become more whole, and she rejoiced that the King had led them to the healing springs.