Encountering the Prince

We're going to do something a little different today. What is it, you may ask? I've come to the mind-altering conclusion that not everyone is going to read my books. And I get it; fantasy isn't everyone's cup of tea, and I'm sure that a devotional on anxiety won't be either.

However, there are pieces of Christ embedded in all of my creative endeavors; thus, I want to start sharing exerts from my written works... not just my visual ones.

And so, I give you a piece from my unpublished fantasy novel (with pretty much no context besides the fact that the prince is a type-and-shadow of our Prince of Peace):

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Before all the negative thoughts swirling around her head could take over, movement from a radiant rainbow of light caught her attention. 

It took her eyes a second to adjust, but once they did, Mari stared: it was the prince. He was the light. And she knew it because all the glowing gloriousness (wow, we have a lot of alliteration in this chapter) was contained in the shape of his princely figure. 

Desperate to make sense of the nonsense before her—how could a person turn into light? Completely morph into pure, golden matter?—Mari crept away from the wall.

Without realizing what she was doing, Mari approached the shimmery glass, laid one hand flat on the window, and used the other to tuck her hair behind her ears. She needed to see clearly now, yearned to be on the other side of the boundary.

When the prince stretched out his arms like a bird spreading his wings, she pressed both palms against the window. Hard, like she was trying to break through it.

A part of her knew that the Zekokiths—the gifted glass creators—definitely did not make breakable glass, especially not by the simple press of her hand. But that tiny part was becoming fainter and fainter; common sense lost on Mari, her desire to touch the prince’s brilliant wings overwhelming all else.

Because, no longer a figment of her imagination, the prince’s prismacolored arms were now winged… kind of.

Matching the hues flowing through his body, these wings did not replace his arms, but instead, appeared overtop of their outstretched forms, like some kind of semi-transparent layer. Mari stared, mesmerized, as the wispy feathers flayed out beyond his scarred body, and she realized that this made absolutely no sense to her… which is why it was so incredibly beautiful.

And since she’d maneuvered herself to be directly behind him, Mari was graced with an absolutely stunning sight—

His wings, opening wide, in perfect symmetry, ready to soar.

It was a sight so magnificent, Mari couldn’t help but tremble. Her knees buckled and she would’ve fallen to the floor, but sheer desperation to see his light kept her standing.

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Friends, we may not be able to see the physical glory of our scarred, magnificent Prince... but we can see the evidence of Him everywhere.

May we seek Him all the days of our lives, trusting that He's as real as the birds in the sky, the breaths in our lungs.