A.D. 33 (27 page)

No one spoke. They were all looking at him, eager.

Talya began to panic. His mother wasn't coming. Kahil was going to kill him.

He was shaking now, watching the horse plod toward him. All he could see was that horse and the man seated on it, watching him, sneering. The world started to go black.

“Talya!”

He heard his name far away and he thought,
My mother's calling to me
.

“Talya!”

This time he heard his name like a scream from high on his left. This time Kahil also turned his head.

Talya slowly turned to look. She was there, standing at the arena's top rim, reaching out for him, blocked by the people in front of her. Everywhere people were pointing in her direction, calling out. Two guards were rushing toward her, then grabbing her arms.

His heart jumped. She'd come!

“Mother!”

He ran toward her, forgetting that he was chained until he was jerked back and fell to his seat. “Mother, save me!”

“Talya!” She was crying. “My son!”

“Silence!” the queen cried.

But the crowd's commotion only swelled.

Talya scrambled to his feet and was about to call out again when Shaquilath lifted her hand and spoke in a clear voice.

“The woman has come to watch her son die. Allow her the decency we would allow any mother.” She lowered her arm. “And then Kahil will take her as spoils before he crushes her bones in the desert.”

He heard Maviah cry, “My son, listen to your mother—” One of the guards slapped his mother's face, silencing her.

Kahil chuckled softly.

“Do you think the queen of scavengers can save you, little boy?”

He couldn't think straight. The world seemed to crush him. His mother was going to be killed because of him.

He jerked his head toward her. “Run away! Run, Mother!”

Laughter batted at his ears. And his mother didn't run. She couldn't. There were three guards around her now, holding her.

She wasn't struggling. She was only looking at him with tears running down her face, trying to help him be brave. And so he had to be brave for her. His bones were shaking and he could hardly breathe, but he had to be brave.

Kahil faced the crowd and spoke so that all could hear him.

“There came into the desert near Dumah a man called Judah, who desired to destroy me. The queen of the scavengers,” he cried, pointing up at Maviah, “called him her lion even as she calls this boy, Talya, her lamb. He told me this when I hung him from his neck until he was dead.”

Someone laughed and more joined him.

“So then he was no lion, was he?”

“He was not,” many cried. “No lion! What lion can defeat the Bedu?”

Kahil silenced them with a raised hand.

“But I have brought him back to life.” He reached for a waterskin tied to his saddle and nudged the stallion up to Talya. Now he was close. Talya could smell the horse's sweat, see its frightened eyes.

He didn't move because he had to be brave and was also too frightened.

Kahil pulled the leather string that sealed the bag. “I have brought that lion back to life to feed on the lamb!” Using both hands, he heaved the contents of the skin at Talya.

He might have ducked, but it came too fast, splashing onto his face and chest, soaking his white tunic.

But it wasn't water, Talya realized. It was blood.

Kahil flipped a key in the air and Talya watched it land in the dust near his feet. Why? He couldn't think…What was happening?

“I give you…” Kahil turned his horse and walked it away, arm extended to a small side door twenty paces away. “Maviah's lion of Judah!”

The hatch slid open and a lion stalked into the arena, growling, eyes shifting between the receding horse and Talya.

And then only Talya.

Gasps filled the arena.

Talya understood what was happening. The lion would smell the blood. This is how Bedu often lured them during a hunt, with a lamb soaked in blood.

The lion was going to kill him.

Talya could not move.

I STOOD as though in death, caught between worlds, because to succumb to either felt like suicide to me. I knew what was happening. I knew it as Yeshua had surely known a kind of death in Gethsemane.

To embrace the rage boiling through my blood would surely leave me in a hell of my own making. Like those who'd driven fangs deep into Yeshua's flesh as the crowd looked on, the vipers in this arena were guilty of terrible savagery. I could not forgive them, for they knew what they did.

To surrender to the whisper deep within me, the one that spoke of peace in the midst of this brutality, felt like its own kind of death. A death of the mind.

So I stood still, trembling from head to foot as Kahil dumped the blood on Talya's body.

Sickened to my bones as he mocked Judah and my innocent lamb.

Horrified as the lion came out, growling. It wasn't enough for Kahil to kill Talya. He would subject innocence to torturous mockery.

Hatred, grievance, fear, terror, judgment, rage. These were all the fruit of the knowledge of good and evil.

Who are you, Maviah?

I watched, ravaged by anguish, as Talya flung himself at the key that Kahil had dropped. Wept in silence as he frantically freed himself from the ring around his thin wrist while the lion approached, circling, preying, eyes fixed on my son.

Who is Talya?

I dared tear my eyes away from him for a moment to search for Saba, desperate to see him there even now, rushing in to save my son.

A movement near the post recaptured my attention. Talya was staggering toward the pole, then spinning behind it. The lion started forward in a crouch, and I knew…

The sound of thin, ragged whimpering reached my ears. It came from Talya, trembling behind that post, seeing the lion coming faster now, knowing that in only moments it would rip into him.

Who are you, Maviah?

In that moment, I didn't care who I was. How could any mother with a sane mind care? I would gladly spend my life in hell to save him.

Who is Talya?

From the corner of my eye, I saw the large wooden door across the arena swing wide, and I jerked my head to see Saba standing in the threshold, chest heaving. He was stripped of his tunic and his dark muscles glistened in the hot sun. There was a bloodied sword in his hand.

He'd come! He sprinted for Talya now, leaning into each stride like a god come to earth, and for a moment my heart dared to soar. Behind him, guards poured through those same doors, fanning out. Scattered cries of alarm from the crowd swelled to a cheer. They thought this was part of the sick play to satisfy their bloodlust.

Who is Saba?

Shaquilath had stood and rushed to the edge of the platform. Aretas pushed himself to his feet. Kahil's stallion sidestepped, disturbed by the intrusion. Kahil, slouched in his saddle, froze at the sight of my warrior.

I knew, far back in my mind, that Saba could kill the lion; that he could kill a dozen warriors and more; that he could reach Kahil and cleanly separate his head from his shoulders. But I also knew that he could not stand against the thousands at Aretas's command, who even now rushed to seal off the arena.

Yet none of this seemed to matter. We would all die. They would kill our bodies.

I blinked, and in that blink, I let go of something deep in me that was desperately clinging to all the old truths that had enslaved me for so long.

Who are you?

This time I heard the voice aloud as if spoken from deep within me and from the sky at once, rumbling like thunder as it had near Jerusalem. And with the voice, the world seemed to stall. Motion slowed. Sound fell away.

A peace beyond my understanding settled over me.

The gathered masses were still cheering. I could see that, but Saba…

Saba had pulled up in the middle of the stadium, panting hard, sword in his hand by his side, staring at Talya and the lion only twenty paces from him.

He'd heard it too.

“Saba!” The cry sounded distant.

It was Talya, crying out for Saba, trembling behind the post. My son hadn't heard.

“Saba!”

Who are you?
Now the voice whispered through my mind like a warm, gentle breeze.

They have all seen me…They fear death no more…

And I knew that those who had seen him and more would willingly give their lives in arenas just like this, because they no longer feared death any more than I did in that moment. Fear was gone.

But my son was in fear…My son, who knew Yeshua and was the son of my Father as much as I was his daughter.

We were safe. Nothing but our own grievance could truly harm us now. Because it was impossible to hold any grievance and know your true self, already at peace.

There in the desert, the Father and Yeshua and his Spirit flooded me with light.

But Talya…

Compassion for him washed over my heart, replacing all the fear I had for his life. I no longer needed him to complete me, because I understood now that I was already complete. I needed nothing from him, not even his love. I only wanted to give all that I had to him, to pour myself out for him, to lay down my own body for him, not because I was desperate for him as my son, but because my surrender would give us both living water.

For the first time since I had called him my son, I loved Talya as Yeshua loved him.

I knew all of this because Yeshua had breathed on me. Saba stood still, arrested by the same breath, I thought. The sword fell from his hand and he dropped to one knee, seemingly oblivious to the guards who rushed toward him, and to Talya, who called out for him.

I saw it all unfold in a great silence save one note that now flowed through my mind, pure and high—the note every fiber of my being knew. The world before me was moving slowly as if in a dream, but the crystalline note filling my awareness was no dream.

Talya knew this love. He who had first heard that song of Eden would hear it again. He would remember who he was and find peace in his storm.

I closed my eyes and I opened my mouth and allowed my throat to give voice to that song. I sent it out into the arena for my son and for Saba and for all who had ears to hear.

THE MOMENT SABA stopped and fell to one knee, the lion growled and slowly swung its head back to Talya. The people were screaming now, crying out for the boy's death, urging the lion to attack.

“Saba!” Talya grabbed the post, keeping it between him and the lion, but he knew the post wouldn't save him. His body began to shake again. “Saba!”

But the crowd was too loud and the lion was moving toward him again and Talya knew no one was going to save him.

It was then that he heard the note. Just one, cutting through the roar of the crowd, piercing his mind. But he knew that note! Only this time, it sounded like his mother. It was her voice!

Talya jerked his head up and saw her again, there at the top. Her eyes were closed and she was reaching one hand toward him, singing. To him.

Immediately everything was quiet except for that one note. The arena was still there all around him, so he knew he wasn't dreaming, but everything was moving slowly and strangely now.

In that one note he could hear her speaking to him gently in his childhood language, which she didn't know. But she knew it now and he could hear every word as if they were the only words in the world.

“Listen to me, Talya. You are safe. You don't need to be afraid any longer. You already believe. You've already seen what so few have seen. You too were chosen before the world began.”

It was his mother's voice, but also the voice from the dream! This was Yeshua too? Tears sprang to his eyes as her words touched his mind.

“I want you to let go of everything you see here and find that place deep inside of you that's already at peace, even though you don't feel peaceful right now. But you are already at peace in the Father's realm. Can you do that?”

He held on to each word, believing, but still gripped by fear.

“Let me show you what you saw and believed. Can you do that for me, Talya?”

“Yes,” he sobbed.

“I know you're afraid, but I want you to close your eyes and see who you really are. How beautiful you are. How precious you are. I'll be right here, holding your hand.”

“Close my eyes?”

“Yes, sweetheart. Just close your eyes and trust my voice. Then you will see.”

Now desperate to see, Talya closed his eyes just like his mother told him to. And the moment he did, white light filled the world.

And then he was in the familiar dream once again. He saw all of it all at once as if no time passed.

He saw the garden and felt the same love he'd felt before.

He saw the woman and the serpent and felt the fear. But this time he saw more.

He saw Yeshua crushing the serpent's head under his heel.

Then Yeshua breathed into him like the Father had breathed into the first man and his mind lit up with a thousand stars.

He gasped. He gasped because he saw who he really was. How greatly his Father loved him. He was the Father's son, loved as no other son and all sons at once!

Streams of living light flowed into his body, shaking him from head to foot, not only here in the world of light, but here in the arena too.

Yeshua was laughing in that light, and Talya wanted to laugh with him. He wanted to run and leap and roll in the grass and jump up to touch the nearest star because he knew he could. He wanted to throw his arms around Yeshua and hug the lamb and dance with the woman who looked like his mother.

He wanted to do all of this because he'd never, not even in his dreams, felt such joy.

I DIDN'T know what Talya heard other than the note I sang—the same one he himself had once sung from the cliff. I was only loving him the same way that Yeshua had told us to—as myself.

But when I opened my eyes I saw that his body was trembling. A look of wonder had filled his face and I knew that he was enveloped in a realm as real as this one here.

Only a few moments had passed. The warriors had spread out and were just approaching Saba from behind. Saba, who knelt on one knee with his eyes closed and arms spread wide, at peace. The guards who'd held me released my arms and I extended one hand toward Talya.

Still I sang.

The lion was still approaching Talya, crouched low, preparing to launch itself onto its bloodied prey.

Sing, Talya, sing!
I thought.
Join me in the sovereign realm and sing to your Father!

He immediately opened his mouth and began to sing the same note with me. I could feel it more than hear it. But even more, I could see it. Because the moment Talya began to sing, everything in the arena changed.

Motion, once slowed, now returned to normal. Sound, once muted, swelled to a roar in my ears—the crowd, the lion, the screaming of Kahil, who was driving his horse toward Saba.

But when Talya issued that long, pure note from pursed lips, they all stopped.

The lion was first. Immediately he withdrew and lay down like a scolded cat. Then the crowd fell to a hush, then Kahil's horse froze with ears perked. They were all gripped by this one single note filled with raw power.

My heart leaped in my breast and I smiled, delirious with joy. I wanted to hear Talya's note more clearly, so I let my voice trail off and lowered my hand.

Now only this, a young boy's song, held all of Petra in its love and peace. As one, thirty thousand Nabataeans and Bedu stood aghast. They couldn't know what they heard, only that it called to a place deep within them that refused to be denied.

It was wonder to behold, and I thought,
What wonders will they see in Jerusalem if Talya's voice can still Petra? Could even Stephen's shadow now heal what it touched? Surely!

Still Talya sang, only that one note, extending far longer than it should have.

AS TALYA sang he knew more…Much more. Far, far more than he had words to express or even a mind to understand. Truth came to him in pictures that he could not describe, and in words that had no meaning in his own language. It came to him as if he was experiencing it, not thinking about it.

Yeshua was the Way. He was the Truth. He was the Life. He was the innocent lamb who had overcome death, and the knowledge of good and evil and all that came with it.

All of this came to him and far more, in that language from something closer than his own breath and yet greater than all things combined. And he heard himself speak in his mind, but in a language known only to his mind.

“You are my Father?”

I am.

His bones trembled.

“I am your son?”

You are.

He could hardly breathe there in the stadium, but here he was breathing only power. Because a Father would show his son everything, so that he could do what the Father did!

Surrender who you think you are…

“To see who I really am,” he whispered.

Surrender what you think you need…

“To see what I already have.”

Surrender all that you think you know about…

“To know you.”

He could feel his Father's pleasure like a kiss on his forehead.

Then Talya knew that he was glorious. Shining like a thousand suns because he—not his body, which was also beautiful—was now joined with Yeshua like one whole fruit, not two halves like the black-and-white one the woman had eaten in the garden. So he was the son of the Father, here and now and unafraid and more powerful than all of the lions in the world. Anything else was only a lie.

This was the knowing that thundered through him like a storm made from that one simple yet forever note. Like when Saba said
eternal
.

And suddenly he thought:
Sing to your mother.
Share this with her because you are one with her! Sing to your mother the wonder of the Father! And sing to Saba too…Sing to them both. Sing to the whole world.