Ever since she was a little girl she felt it; someone was pursuing her. It wasn’t a person. She knew it wasn’t someone that was tangibly flesh and blood. It was a presence, yes, maybe something akin to a guardian angel. As a mere child she had heard of angels, so if she had even dared to speak of her pursuer she might have described him as an angel since deep spirituality was something that hadn’t even dawned on her immature mind. It was more of a feeling than anything tangible. It just was, and it felt special to her.
She felt special to the pursuer, and he did things to make her feel special. Just where he placed her on the earth made her feel set apart. Being surrounded by the spectacular mountains and the beautiful azure blue sky made her feel as if she had been dropped into the portico of Heaven. Her playgrounds were the rivers and woods. Her hometown felt like Mayberry. Her family felt like the Waltons even though she only had one sibling. She had tons of cousins though and loving grandparents. Looking back she describes her childhood as ridiculously idyllic; something 1970’s television shows were made of.
She even felt immortal in some way. She felt different from others, but not in a better-than-them way. Just special…set apart. Her mom and dad were faithful church goers, so she heard all the Biblical teachings on life and death; heaven and hell. One Sunday she sat in church listening to the pastor talk about death, and in her mind she told herself that she would not allow herself to die. When death tried to come for her she would will herself to keep breathing and her heart to keep beating. Of course, this was very naive, but in her earliest recollections she understood that her spirit was eternal, not merely something that would live up to 100 years and just disintegrate into the ground along with her body. The concept of eternal life was there but not in the practical understanding much less in the spiritual.
Still, as she grew she began to realize that even though her life felt charmed in many ways there was something missing. She began to fantasize about a father who would die for her. She made up elaborate fantasies in her mind about a father who would fight Indians, kidnappers and would go to the ends of the earth to find and save her. When he found her he would hold and protect her and declare to her his undying love through tears of love. In those fantasies she felt perfectly loved, perfectly safe, perfectly secure.
The fantasies were not because she didn’t have a loving father, because she did, but her daddy wasn’t a demonstrative man. He loved her through providing so well for her, taking her on arrowhead hunts, and rides in his Jeep. The fantasies were because the void was there, formed by the Pursuer. At that time she thought that her fantasy father would meet those needs deep-down inside that her own father couldn’t. Her father didn’t know how to handle the strong emotions of this little girl who needed to be loved in a way he could not. He didn’t have experience with little girls, because he never had a sister, only brothers. It wasn’t any fault of his. Not many men ever understand the psyche of a woman nor are they supposed to, but the little girl didn’t understand that. She began to feel that she didn’t measure up and not complete, so she retreated into her fantasies. She had a great imagination and often demonstrated that in creative ways, but what the fantasies were doing was setting up unreal expectations for her relationships with people…men in particular.
It would take many years for her to understand all she was supposed to understand. Still, the Pursuer kept pursuing even though as the years marched she didn’t understand Who the Pursuer was. He was the one who who would go to the ends of the earth rescue her. In fact, He had already rescued her. She just didn’t know it.