One Month and Six Days

by Sarah Dolan, November 26, 2008

One month and six days
to live her life, a sacrifice of praise
Fit for her father who remembered her plea
to go to the mountains—weep her virginity

During those two months in the mountains I embraced quite different sets of emotion. Tears, because my life, which would shortly end in this world, would never know the love of a man. Smiles, dancing and singing, because sacrifice out of love would save many people. Love is the centerpiece of both emotions, from it stems loss and gain.

Companions followed me there. Maidens armed with tambourines and laughter. Their joy somehow brought forth a sense of worship that was hidden deep inside the heart. As we sang and danced with a hint of madness, there were no witnesses except for God.

My mind couldn’t help but to reminisce that it was worship that brought me to this very place. Worship sparked from my father’s presence. Returning from battle, I ran to him with a song that couldn’t be contained. Dancing and beating my tambourine, I left the house for his embrace. My smile met with his tears. Tearing his robe, he fell to the ground and lamented. His vow to the Lord was to offer a burnt offering—sacrificing the first thing to greet him upon his return to our home.

It was me.

My present dance became a little more wild, song a chord louder, as I once again remembered my fate. One month and six days left to live. In the heart of nature, I silently slipped away from the maidens and sat underneath a tree. Near the summit its view was remarkable. Brushing the grass and foliage around the tree with a hand had made texture and substance feel so real. A gentle reminder that faith too is a substance. It is the substance of things hoped for and evidence of things not seen.

It is in faith that I offer myself as a living sacrifice to the flames. The substance of my hope is that my death would fulfill my father’s vow to the Lord, which would save the people and preserve the land. Joyous life eternal turns to mourning for not knowing a man’s love. Praise for divine love conflicts with the gloom of earthly destiny.

So here I am, looking out on the world as I know it, forced to confront perspective. “Father,” I whispered to my Lord. “May I ask for Your presence, wisdom, comfort and strength?” A warmth as gentle as the wind enveloped me there underneath the lonely tree. Without words, I knew what to do. I followed the music.

The rhythm of the worshippers rose and fell like the waves of the sea—a freedom found in the song lifting from hearts to the Father. The praise overpowered uncertainty and death, bringing a newness and color to perspective. To live by sight is not to see, but to embrace faith is to welcome true vision. I am ready now.

Spotless and pure, He welcomes His bride
clothed in fine linen, she joins His side
Faithful and True, just and pure
Who knew that heaven would beckon something more