The Bride

"For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are - yet was without sin." - Heb. 4:15

"Good night, Simon", Jesus called to his friend.

"Goodnight, Master, we'll sleep well after our long trip." Simon called back as he climbed the stairs to the room he shared with his wife.

It had been three weeks since he and the others had last been home and he looked forward to a good sleep in his own comfortable bed; he looked forward to his wife. At the top of the stairs, just before entering the room, he turned to see his friend watching from the cot in the inner yard. There were others there as well, all sharing what little room there was, this ragtag band of followers sleeping on the ground with their master. For a brief moment Simon felt the urge to join them, but for three weeks he had missed his wife and now she was waiting.

"Sleep well, my friend," Jesus whispered as Simon turned into his room, "you've earned it."
Left now only to his thoughts, Jesus closed his eyes to sleep. It had been three weeks, and while the work was pleasant, there were times when the load was almost too burdensome. The crowds kept getting larger, to the point now where there was little time to teach his followers. Even when he turned people away they kept coming back. He who could turn back the demons of hell could not keep even a child from coming to him for healing. He longed for the crowds to see that what he came to give was not temporal healing but eternal. His feet ached from the long walk and his mind was tired from the challenging Pharisees.

As fatigue gave way to half sleep, his thoughts began to wander to his friend. He imagined Simon asleep cuddling his wife, her head resting on his chest and her long black hair draped across his shoulders. This scene of intimate togetherness shot a pain through his heart - loneliness!
Fired by the agony of loneliness, his mind raced through time. He gazed with David, from atop the palace, upon the beauty of Bathsheba bathing below, and he wanted her. He felt with Samson reclining on cushions, the caresses of Delila, and he wanted her. He heard with Abraham, from the door of his tent, Sarah's words, "Take my maidservant", and he wanted her. He saw at his feet, a beautiful woman, naked and muddied from the dust clinging to a body moist from sweat and tears, and he wanted her.

"Why," he asked himself, "why can my friend enjoy the comfort of his wife and I remain alone? I created woman, why can I not have one?"

He gazed back at the woman weeping at his feet, shaking with the expectation of the first stone. Bending toward her he lifted her face and looked into her eyes, eyes that he had seen across the eons of time.

"Be gone, Deceiver!" He yelled. "She is not my bride, she is only a maidservant. You will not win tonight, or any night. I shall wait, for soon you will lose and I will take my Bride."

In victory his thoughts raced ahead to a hilltop split in two, and all around he gazed upon his Bride as she walked to him. Her beauty and purity outshone the sun and as she approached their two glories blended into a single radiant brilliance.

Relishing in the burning delight of their union, the corners of his mouth raised in a divine smile. Pleasant dreams.

God slept!