It

She wore a baggy hoodie as she shuffled down the sidewalk.  Her face down cast while wisps of light brown hair slipped out from under her hood.  She's trying to run away, like every day before; run until there is no sidewalk left, but it doesn't, it doesn't end.  She can't run away from what's truly following her.  It is relentless.  It is fearless.  It is consuming.

It has chased her for years.  Some years she has felt safe, she has felt it wasn't there and that she had finally outrun it, but she was wrong.  Dead wrong.  Because it was laying dormant.  That's what it does to make one think they have beaten it.  But it is merely waiting for one to let their guard down, and she did.  Now she is struggling to find a safe haven, a place where it can't reach her again.

She'd tasted its sweetly intoxicating vileness before.  She tried to be strong, show others she was big enough to beat it, prove to herself that she didn't need anyone but herself and her own strength. It knew she would think that, because that is what some do when they let their guard down.  It knew her weakness.  It knew she thought she could do it.  That is why she is running from it now.  It got to her again and she didn't even see it until it was too late.

But she can't run away.  Her legs aren't fast enough, her heart isn't strong enough.  The distance, it is too far.  It can not be outrun.  So it surrounds her and taunts her.  It reminds her of what it has done, no, what she has done because she let it.  She faces it head on, from all sides.  It won't let her go.  Her heart, it's beating fast, so very fast.  It has grabbed ahold of her again.  It has taken her and it is destroying her from the inside out.  Tearing at the very fiber of her being.

She longs to break free.  She longs to scream out, "go away!"  "I'm sorry!"  "I shouldn't have let my guard down."  "I'm not strong enough on my own.  I NEED help."  And she is now, she is screaming those words at the top of her lungs, on the inside.  It doesn't matter though, no one else is listening.  They have gone.  Each of them.  All of them.  Pointing and laughing and judging and ridiculing her from afar. And she is running harder and harder to get to where the sidewalk ends, yet the one she is on doesn't end.

So she stops.  She might as well.  It isn't going to stop chasing her.  She has to face it.  Truly look at it.  She has to acknowledge its power over her and her need for someone more powerful.  It has a nemesis.  It can be destroyed.  It isn't her that will do it.  She is too weak.  She can't fight off this beast.  This beast that has drawn her in time and again.  This beast that turns her into someone she is not.  It can only be defeated by the one who's power is made strong in her weakness. And she is there.  Now.  Late, yes.  Damage has been done, but this one, the one made strong in weakness, He rebuilds too.

He forgives.  He gives second chances.  He doesn't make the sidewalk end, but He doesn't let her travel it by herself either.  She slowly lowers the hood that has her head covered.  The breeze ruffles her hair.  She turns her face to the sun and allows it to dry the tears.  She can see it now.  It isn't as big as she thought because He is bigger.  So much bigger.  Why hadn't she noticed that before?  Fear. Fear does that.  Fear keeps one from seeing the bigger picture. 

She's ready for rebuilding.  She's ready to accept the forgiveness.  She's ready to not let it consume her again.  She knows now, that daily, she will have to scream at the top of her lungs to Him for the strength to keep her from it.  She also knows that it won't stop the fight.  It will constantly sit there, in a dormant state or not, waiting for its chance again.  But, she knows what it looks like.  What it feels like.  What it will do.  She isn't going to let it back in.  She isn't going to do it alone any more.

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