Bride of Christ Archives - Kristen Anne Glover

{11} Lovely with His Love

Day 11 of 31 days. Click on the image above to read the beginning of the story.

Just as soon as the prince finished his marriage vows, the crowd erupted in applause. They could not contain themselves any longer. What a glorious morning it had been! The cheering turned into singing and the singing into dancing. People spilled out of the courtyard and into the streets, laughing and dancing and enjoying the goodness of their prince.

The couldn’t stop talking about how their prince had rescued an enemy from the other side of the gates, brought her home, and transformed her into an entirely new creature. She was beautiful, but now they could see that her beauty was nothing compared to his glory.

In fact, they could not take their eyes off him. He had not changed overnight like his bride had, but his visage was sharper, as if a bit of a veil had been taken off and they were seeing his features more clearly than every before.

Even Jewel, the woman once called Obscurity, noticed. The prince’s face was radiant like the sun.

She felt that she was radiant too, just because she was near him, and she marveled because he had chosen her to help make himself known. Jewel realized, then, that this wedding was not about her. It was about him.

He had shown them a trick that only he could do, and it was so amazing, their shouts of astonished exultation reached all the way to the edges of the Enchanter’s land. He cringed when he heard it because only the prince could take something so broken and make her worthy of the bride she had become. Only the prince could take a joke, a cosmic shock, and turn it into something so glorious.

But the most amazing thing was, he did it out of love. He was able to look past everything Obscurity was and was not, and love her anyway. He loved her even before she was clean and beautiful, even before the jewel had been polished out of the rough. Now she stood before the people, able to love and be lovely because of what he did for her.

Of course, the people had not understood at first. But now they saw it clear as anything. This was their story. This is what their prince had done for each one of them too. He had loved them before they were lovely and had given them a home and an inheritance and a new name. He had made them lovely with his love.

How could any of them have missed it?

Well, they reasoned, it was so long ago, and when the prince called them to come to his kingdom, they were not nearly as unworthy as she. They were not as bad as Obscurity.

Then over time, each person had settled in to life and work in the kingdom, and they began to think that they deserved to be there. Some actually thought that the prince opened his gates for them because they were so good and useful. He needed them.

They forgot their own dirty clothes, their own mud-caked feet, and their own stubborn hearts. They forgot the details of their own rescue.

But here it was, played out before them in shocking allegory. There was nothing in them worthy of rescue. There was nothing clean or beautiful or good. It was only and always the goodness of the prince that was able to bring about anything good in them.

Jewel’s story was their story. They had known that part. But what they had forgotten was that Obscurity’s story was theirs too.

And you can’t have one without the other.

It was a hard but beautiful reminder of the character of the prince who rescued them, the despised and the forgotten ones. The parts of their stories that were the ugliest–the parts they wanted to forget–were the very same parts that made him most glorious. Because only their prince could write an ending like that. Only their prince could make them lovely with his love.

{10} The Bride

Day 10 of 31 Days. Click on the photo for the beginning of the story.

“This is my bride,” the prince said.

No one said a word. Stunned silence filled the air. Somewhere in the back row, an eligible young maiden fainted.

Obscurity’s face was pale and her eyes large. Had she missed the proposal?

“Come to the town square tomorrow,” the prince said with obvious joy, “and join in my marriage celebration!”

Then he beckoned for his maids to attend to Obscurity and to his butler to prepare her quarters. His own tailor was given charge over her dress and the chefs scrambled off to prepare a feast.

Apparently, the kingdom was throwing a wedding, and there wasn’t a moment to waste.

The next day, the town square was packed. Who would miss it? Their beloved prince was planning to marry some homeless woman he’d found in a ditch on the way home from work. It was the most horrific thing that had ever happened in that kingdom. Ever. It had to be some kind of joke, the people reasoned. It couldn’t be real.

But what if it was? What if their beloved prince was going to marry one of the enemy? And not just any enemy, but the most vile enemy any of them had ever laid eyes on.

It wasn’t a joke. At precisely 10 am, the prince stepped out onto the balcony of the castle with his bride on his arm. An audible gasp rose from the crowd.

Obscurity was completely unrecognizable.

She didn’t look anything like the creature they had seen the day before. In fact, she looked like an entirely new person. The mud and matted hair were gone. The filth and stench of the Enchanter’s kingdom had been washed away.

Now, she was dressed in the most dazzling white gown. Her hair was done up with flowers, and pure joy shone in her eyes. Obscurity looked every bit like a princess fit to marry their beloved prince. She was radiant.

The crowd erupted in applause. The prince had performed a miracle right in front of their eyes.

Everyone began talking at once. They looked and pointed and marveled at the bride. Could it be the same woman?

The prince and his bride stood before the people, who struggled to gain some sense of respectful composure after the shocking surprise. He raised his hands to quiet them.

It was time for the marriage ceremony to begin.

The prince turned to Obscurity, and the people waited for her to say her vows. But Obscurity had nothing to say. What could she give to a prince? Nothing, not even a promise.

The prince knew his bride had nothing to offer. So he took her hands in his and spoke vows that were strong enough for both of them. They were the covenant promises only he could keep.

“I will betroth you to me forever,” he said, quoting the ancient scrolls the people knew and loved.

“I will betroth you to me in righteousness and in justice,

in loving-kindness and in compassion.

I will betroth you to me in faithfulness.

I will never leave you or forsake you.

I will be with you always,

Even to the very end of the earth.”

Then he slipped a ring on her finger as a seal of his love and a promise of even greater things to come, saying, “Now, you are no longer an alien or an enemy. You are a fellow citizen, along with all these saints, and you belong to me.”

Every eye glistened. Even the old castle guard wiped a stray tear from his cheek.

“There’s just one more thing,” the prince said, taking hold of her hands once again. “You will no longer be called Obscurity, for that is not the name I chose for you. It is not who you are, nor who you were meant to be.”

Obscurity felt her throat close tight. Up until that moment, she had not realized how much she longed to shed the name that had followed her all her life. It was a name that reminded her that she had been born in enemy land. It spoke of her worthlessness. She was forgotten, unlovely, and unworthy.

The prince looked into her eyes, and Obscurity shrunk a little. She wondered if she really wanted to hear her new name because she was not long changed from who she once was.

The prince smiled. “You are my treasure, my bride. You are my jewel. That is who you are, and that is your true name.”

Jewel. It was not the name she expected and it was not a name she deserved. Tears streamed down her face. Obscurity was dead, and a Jewel stood in her place.

{9} The Prince’s Kingdom

From Enemy to Heir: Day 9 of 31 Days

Click on the photo above for Day 1

The prince opened the gates to his kingdom and Obscurity walked in behind him without a moment’s hesitation. All her questions and doubts had been erased by the kind instruction of the prince.

But she was completely unprepared for the scene on the other side of the gates.

From afar, the prince’s kingdom looked pure white. His castle sat up on a hill where it shimmered like a diamond. No matter where you were in the Enchanter’s land, you could see it, if you wanted to.

When she was younger, Obscurity had often gazed upon that castle and thought about how very boring it would be to live in a world where everything was white.

Now that she was there, she could see that the kingdom was not white at all. It was radiant with a myriad of brilliant, pure colors. Some of the hues she had never seen before, but every inch of earth or sky shimmered with them. It was like stepping into a magnificent gem, and Obscurity could not make her eyes wide enough to grasp the wonder. She thought she could look on it forever and never see enough.

It was midday then, and the town was bustling with the affairs of the day. Everywhere, people were hard at work, although it hardly looked like work to Obscurity because every person seemed to be doing the exact thing he or she most enjoyed doing. Here a person painted pictures, there a person swept floors, one taught little children, and another layered mortar between bricks.

But all worked to the best of their ability, so if she had to choose, Obscurity would not have been able to tell whose job was the most important. More intriguing still was the fact that she could sense no struggle between the roles. There was no abuse of power or lazy workmanship, there were no angry threats or insolent remarks.

Instead, the air was filled with a sense of mutual respect and cooperation and a delight in being able to do what one was made to do in the kingdom of the prince they loved.

The prince, who stood beside her, watched it all with a look of pleased satisfaction. Obscurity noticed that he looked more radiant than ever as his people went about the humble duties of their daily lives.

Obscurity, who had never had a skill or talent of any kind, suddenly wished she had something to do that was as good and satisfying as their labor seemed to be to themselves and to each other. When she saw how much it pleased the prince to see his people creating, building, and ruling like princes themselves, she wanted nothing more than to be a part of it.

But she didn’t have much time to think about it because suddenly, someone looked up and noticed the prince had returned. Immediately, he was surrounded, and she with him. They greeted him with kisses. One took his horse and one took his cloak and everyone was asking about the cuts on his face and the mud on his clothes.

That’s when they noticed her.

And everything got quiet.

It was not entirely uncommon for the prince to bring an enemy into the gates. Old people and children followed him wherever he went. Those kinds of enemies had not been taught to hate him, or they were too old to fight, and the Enchanter’s power was lessened on those who believed enough to be hopeful, and on those who had seen enough to be hopeless.

But this was unusual. Very rarely did the prince open the gate for someone in the prime of her life. Very rarely did he rescue someone so obviously entrenched in the Enchanter’s lies.

Entrenched was just the word for Obscurity. She looked like she had come right out of the sewers. Her hair was matted and she reeked of waste and it was apparent from her clothes that she was one of those kinds of women.

Obscurity was now aware of her own wretched state, but the prince’s people were unprepared for the level of depravity they saw in her. It was shocking. She was by far the filthiest person they had ever seen. Whispers skittered around the back row.

Obscurity felt her face flush and her heart fall. She realized these people were not perfect like the prince. When she had first seen them, they seemed so different from her own people that she could not imagine a single flaw in any of them.

Yet, there remained in them some ability to make assumptions and draw conclusions. There remained in them some need of rescuing, and Obscurity wondered if they could see their own muddy feet when they were staring at hers.

One of the men stepped forward from the throng.

“Would you like me to take your prisoner, Sir?” he asked with a gleam in his eye. His job as master of the guard was remarkably dull in the prince’s kingdom, and he looked forward to having at least one of his jail cells full.

“Prisoner?” the prince responded in surprise. “This woman is not a prisoner.”

Waves of whispers washed over the crowd.

“Shall I prepare the…uh…guest room, then?” asked the head butler, who was already wondering how he was going to get the linens clean after that woman left.

“No, she’s not a guest!” the prince said.

The crowd was silent. No one could think of a third option.

“My dear people,” the prince said, extending his hand to draw Obscurity to his side. “This woman is my bride.”