Hinds' Feet on High Places

I've been reading this book called Hinds' Feet on High Places by Hannah Hurnard, I'm sure some of you have heard about it if you haven't already read it yourself. It's a really good book and a really good allegory. I'm going to share some of it here tonight and then some more tomorrow evening when I get home from work if I have time to do so. This first part is an excerpt from pages 212-214 in a chapter called:

Grave on the Mountains

The first time she felts something akin to fear and panic. She was not able to do this thing which he had asked of her. Having reached the altar at last, she was powerless to obey. Turning to those who had been her guides and helpers all the way up the mountains, she asked for their help, and for them to do what she could not for herself, to tear the plant out of her heart. For the first time Suffering and Sorrow shook their heads.

"We have done all that we can for you," they answered, "but this we cannot do."

At that the indistinct figure behind the altar stepped forward and said quietly, "I am the priest of this altar - I will take it out of your heart if you wish."

Much-Afraid turned toward him instantly. "Oh, thank you," she said. "I beg you to do so."

He came and stood beside her, his form indistinct and blurred by the mist, and then she continued entreatingly, "I am a very great coward. I am afraid that the pain may cause me to try to resist you. Will you bind me to the altar in some way so that I cannot move? I would not like to be found struggling while the will of my Lord is done."

There was complete silence in the cloud filled canyon for a moment or two, then the priest answered, "It is well said. I will bind you to the altar." Then he bound her hand and foot.

When he had finished, Much-Afraid lifted her face toward the High Places which were quite invisible and spoke quietly through the mist. "My Lord, behold me - here I am, in the place thou didst send me to - doing the thing thou didst tell me to do, for where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried; the Lord do so to me, and more also, if aught but death part thee and me" (Ruth 1:17).

Still there was silence, a silence as of the grave, for indeed she was in the grave of her own hopes and still without the promised hinds' feet, still outside the High Places with even the promise to be laid down on the altar.

This was the place to which the long, heartbreaking journey had led her. Yet just once more before she laid it down on the altar, Much-Afraid repeated the glorious promise which had been the cause of her starting for the High Places.

"The Lord God is my strength, and He will make my feet like hinds' feet and He will make me to walk upon mine High Places. To the Chief Singer on my stringed instruments" (Hab 3:19).

The priest put forth a hand of steel, right into her heart. There was a sound of rending and tearing, and the human love, with all its myriad rootlets and fibers, came forth. He held it for a moment and then said, "Yes, it was ripe for removal, the time had come. There is not a rootlet torn or missing."

When he had said this he cast it down on the altar and spread his hands above it. There came a flash of fire which seemed to rend the altar; after that, nothing but ashes remained, either of the love itself, which had been so deeply planted into her heart, or of the suffering and sorrow which had been her companions on that long, strange journey.

A sense of utter, overwhelming rest and peace engulfed Much-Afraid. At last, the offering had been made and there was nothing left to be done. When the priest had unbound her she leaned forward over the ashes on the altar and said with complete thanksgiving, "It is finished."

Then, utterly exhausted, she fell asleep.