A glimmer in the middle of a field reflects off an elegant dress. The girl in the dress is running through tall grass, the moonlight illuminating her pure, beautiful face, revealing it to be stricken with fear and distorted like some hunted creature. When she’s nearly through the field, her pace quickens as she approaches the woods. She reaches the forest edge and through the trees she runs, her gorgeous gown tearing as she goes. Suddenly, her foot snags on a protruding root, she trips and falls to the forest underbrush.

She strives to get back on her feet, but the grasping fingers of branches and vines hold her fast. Her dress stained and darkened, she fights the vines clawing at her, trying to stand once more, to flee from the source of her terror and the object of her rage. The vines just become all the more ensnaring, branches like gnarled fingers tug at her, piercing her dress, fighting to hold her down.

The thing she fears is coming closer, and none of her efforts have managed to loosen the grip of the vines! Her ears fill with the sounds of trees snapping and brush being pushed aside as if they were nothing at all. All the restraints that bind her are forgotten at the presence of whatever is coming.

Brilliant light erupts behind her, stilling her heart in confusion. It is not time for the sun to rise, and that light is coming from the wrong direction – from the west, where the sun sets. The light, already brilliant, contin­ues to grow brighter. Fear and rage slowly dig their claws back in, distorting her countenance as realization dawns on her of where that light is coming from: her Pursuer!

Frantically she struggles, thrashing and lashing out, trying to direct her anger into a means of escape from the binding entangle­ments as the Creature draws ever closer, but to no avail. They just envelope her more!

Suddenly, the light becomes so bright that she almost surren­ders herself to the entangling vines as she hides her eyes from the piercing light. What is the intention of this Creature that is draw­ing ever closer? This Creature, who invokes both terror and rage in her?

Is It going to harm her?

Is It going to help her?

Will It just sit back and watch, amused, as the terror and rage emanate from one so weak and so helpless that she can’t even loos­en the grip of the forest’s entanglements?

Just who is It and what will It do?

The Creature steadily comes closer. Cringing, she tries to hide deeper within the entanglements, hoping It will pass her by. As if in response, the vines begin to swallow her up, obscuring nearly every­thing from her sight. Despair overcomes her as realization dawns: No matter what she does, she’ll never leave this forest the way she entered. Either she will succumb to certain death at the hands of these entanglements that blocking are all hope of escape, or she will fall to whatever torture the Creature has planned for her. The stale air penetrates her lungs, an ever present reminder that time is run­ning out.

The Creature is waiting just outside her prison, surely waiting to crush her, fling her, beat her to a pulp. Or maybe, just maybe, there is the slightest chance that this Creature isn’t what she thinks It is. Maybe It’s not a creature of evil, of terror, but instead one of mercy. Whatever the end, surely it would be better than enduring the suffocation of these vines, slowly closing her off, killing her little by little. The unknown would be better than that, wouldn’t it?

In a panic with the sudden urge to be free, she kicks, screams, and struggles with all her might, fueled by an indescribable des­peration and desire to be free. The entanglements are moving away from the Creature – are they afraid of It? Light filters through small openings appearing in the vines. Still, their grip on her won’t let go. With a cry of utter despair and desperation, and the hope of an off chance she pleads for the aid of the Creature just barely visible through the cracks in the vines and branches.

Instantly fear latches itself back into her, like the gnawing of a multitude of tiny, incessant teeth as the Creature steadily comes closer, reaching toward her. Second thoughts plague her mind, but it’s too late to turn back now; Its hands, each with dark holes at Its wrists, keep coming closer and closer until they’re nearly touching the vines.

In a second, the vines covering her view wilt away, recoiling at the Creature’s touch. The light dims, but the entanglements con­tinue to recede as It kneels down and touches her cheek.

“Will you follow me?” the Creature asks tenderly, staring into her eyes. “Will you let me prepare a place for you in my Father’s house?”

Hearing His voice, so soft, so gentle, all she can do is weep, weep at how much trouble she’s caused Him, weep at how unde­serving she is of His mercy, His kindness. The Creature embraces her in His arms letting her cry on His shoulder. His voice straining He asks, “Will you follow me?”

“Yes, yes, I will follow you,” the girl manages through heavy sobs and heaving lungs.

“Come then,” He says, rising to His feet, pulling her up. “The road is long and narrow to my Father’s house.”

She rises, blinks, and realizes her tattered and torn dress is gone. Instead it has been replaced with one made of silk and satin, more beautiful and elegant than before. Excitement and joy fill her as she begins to twirl, rejoicing in the grace of this Creature, her Savior. The Creature extends His hand as if to say, “Shall we?” with a smile on His face that mirrors her excitement.