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She stumbles with weariness. Her heavy satchel falls off her back, splitting apart, spilling its contents with abandon. She doesn’t care. She’s come as far as she can go.
She looks all around her and behind her to see the mess she just made.

Yep, it’s all there. The remains of a broken, shattered heart. Just debris, but not one piece is missing. She brought it – all of it – because the Voice said to. In fact he promised, that if she went searching for him with all of her heart, she would find him.

Her back ached from the weight of carrying it.

For so long she has pursued that Voice. It was barely an echo, a whisper, as if calling her from far away. Yet something deep inside her compelled her to follow it. During her journey, much longer than she could ever have imagined, desperation increased. But so had her boldness and her determination to keep her grip on hope.

And now, here she is. Or at least she assumes she’s here, at some sort of destination, because the Voice is no longer leading her on. It is silent.

But all she sees is an empty throne.

Therefore I am now going to allure her;
I will lead her into the wilderness and speak tenderly to her.
(Hosea 2:14 NIV)

She looks around. Yes, it’s true. There’s nothing else here, only herself, the pieces of her heart and this very empty throne.

Anger fills her at the injustice. How can this be? After all this time, after all this distance! The throne can NOT be empty! She throws herself down at the foot of the throne, calling out loudly to the Voice that is no longer speaking.

“I’m here!”

Then she starts to cry.

“Don’t you see me? Don’t you know I’m here?”

She looks up, willing herself to see someone, anyone, seated on the throne that must be His. But instead, she sees only emptiness. Darkness begins its descent over her mind as hope slips further away.

She doesn’t understand how this could have happened. Was she wrong? Did she imagine the voice? Was the promise just a fantasy, wishful thinking? She should just leave, give up. Now!

She gets up off her knees. Before she leaves, she looks around her at what remains of her heart. Well at least she won’t have to carry all that trash around anymore. She’ll leave it here. Let housekeeping clean up the mess!

But then one little piece catches her eye. She remembers the disappointment that broke off that particular chunk. But the remembrance of it no longer stings. This surprises her. When did that happen?

She looks at other pieces, remembers other disappointments and… shame. Again and again, the sting and the deep pain are just gone!

She remembers something else too. She remembers the moment when she first heard his voice. It was odd to her that he knew her name. But the way he said it – so tender. It filled her with a love that was unlike any experience she ever had. It changed her.

Suddenly she knew. She just knew.

From the moment she heard Him first speak her name, her past had begun to change too. Now, it no longer leaves her weak, but gives her strength. Everything inside her is new. Everything inside her is beautiful.

She rushes back to the throne, throwing herself down where His feet should be. She knows that somehow, despite what her eyes are telling her, this throne is not empty.

She calls out to Him, weeping. “Now I know what you’ve done! Come! Please come. Let me hear your voice again. Let me see your face!”

And then it happens. She feels him take her hand in his. He tears away the darkness covering her mind and glory bursts through. It’s the shining, beautiful face of the one who calls her by her name.

His eyes fill with love and tenderness. She reaches out shyly with her hand and touches his cheek. His voice, the voice that once seemed so far away, was now so close.

As he gathers her up into his arms, carrying her to His throne, he whispers into her ear:

“I knew you’d find me.”


I hope you enjoyed this allegory. I did. Here’s to JOY!


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Do you have a question for me? Send it to me in the Comments section!

Carla Porter writes, sings, designs architectural interiors and loves God, all in Los Angeles, California.

© 2013, Carla Porter and Whisper of Grace, all rights reserved. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material, including images, music and writings, without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Carla Porter and Whisper of Grace with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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  1. Hi Carla,
    This is really great!! I am glad you are doing this, just yesterday the
    thought came to me of wouldn’t it be great to do something like this
    and you did it. I really liked the Passion Killer, that spoke to me
    the most. That is a good word for you and this is just another
    good step you are making to Shine. I would like to subscribe to your

  2. You create such a vivid pictorial for the reader! I love listening to the way you craft a story! Brava, my deep friend! This is magical! XO

    • This story (allegory?) is one where I just indulged and wrote whatever I wanted to write. It was for me more than anything, but it’s really cool that what I write for ME brings pleasure to others.

  3. And, it’s really great for us! 😉

  4. Danetta Claybrook

    Wow! You are an amazing and gifted writer. Thank you for sharing. I loved readin “Tenderly he Speaks”
    I was immediately drawn and couldn’t stop until the end. May all that you do be blessed! Danetta Youngstown Ohio

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