Eyes Wide Open

by Ted Dekker

  “I’ve been searching for you for a very long time,” he said. “I’ve come to call you home, Christy… To the place you belong. You’re so beautiful.” Outlaw leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on her forehead. “So very beautiful.”

  “Home?”

  “To that place where you’re whole. Perfect. Complete. And so very, very beautiful.”

  “I am?” The words came out choked. A tear slipped down her right cheek.

  “More than you can possibly see. But you will.”

  He stepped past her to Austin, who looked utterly lost. Gently placed a large, strong hand on the side of his head. Austin looked as if he might melt.

  Outlaw pulled Austin forward and kissed the crown of his head.

  “I know it hurts in there, Austin. It’s not your fault. With every gift comes a curse.” He placed his hand on Austin’s chest, as he had hers. “You’re the first two. And so it begins.”

  He dipped his head and then turned to face them both.

  “We don’t have much time, so please listen carefully. It’s very simple, really, but until you use your minds as they were meant to be used, it will sound a bit overwhelming. If you’re not very careful, you’re likely to forget what I say altogether.”

  He searched both of their eyes as if looking for a response. But Christy was too busy searching her own mind, wondering why she felt such an overwhelming connection to him. First two? First two of what? And what begins?

  “You’re wondering who I am,” Outlaw said. “But the real question is, who are you willing to be?”

  “I’m not using my mind as it was meant to be used?” Austin said, stuck back on what the man had said earlier. He stared up at the man with wide eyes as if he was seeing a ghost from an unknown past.

  “To be honest,” Outlaw said kindly, “you’re not using your mind at all. It’s using you.” And then he added, with a casual look at the cliff wall behind them, “But then, that’s true of almost everyone.”

  “Is this real?” she asked, facing him again.

  His eyes locked on hers. “Is it? Depends on your perspective. If you step out of a boat and try to walk on the water, can you? Or do you have a problem?”

  She knew he was leading her, but she wanted nothing more than to be led right now.

  “A problem.” she said.

  “Yes. You have a problem, but only if you know you have a problem. Just like the place that has you trapped right now. Your darkness. No way out, only because your lights are turned off.”

  “Lights?” Austin said.

  “The eye is the lamp of the body. Turn it on, and you’ll see that you have no problem. That you’re full of light. That the dark sea below you can’t swallow you at all. But take your eyes off the light and you’ll drown in the darkness you see. Darkness as well as beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”

  “These glasses…”

  “Lamps. Which is why you shouldn’t take them off. Not until you realize that we all have lamps. Only question is, are they on or off? If you see your beauty, they are on. If you see your suffering, they’re off.”

  “So…” Confusion swarmed Christy’s mind. “So we’re seeing what’s real right now?”

  “Is it? You can decide. Think of the glasses as a life ring tossed out to keep you from sinking into the darkness. A gift to help you see the narrow way out of darkness.”

  The notion swelled in her mind and gave her goosebumps. This was real then. She was seeing the light. And in the light, she felt strangely and perfectly connected to this man, Outlaw. He was showing them the way.

  “Where did you come from?” she asked.

  His mouth slowly turned upward, and he looked at her with wise eyes that had seen many lifetimes.

  “From a jungle on the other side of the world. But that’s a story for another time. I’ve come for you. That’s all that matters right now.”

  “What did you mean, that we are the first two?”

  He hesitated, then squatted on one heel, plucked a stalk from a dried tuft of grass near his foot, and absently stuck it in the corner of his mouth, eyes on her.

  “I’m guessing neither of you have much recall of your childhood. That about right?”

  She exchanged a glance with Austin.

  “All in good time. Truth is, although you’re both quite special, any who choose to see the light are Outlaws. All of those who are willing to step beyond the law of darkness and death and see. I’ve come to call them all home, where we all belong. This will be our tribe.”

  Stillness lingered.

  “I saw myself in a dungeon…” Christy said. “My father…”

  The memory of that dark cage wove a thread of fear through her mind.

  Outlaw turned his head and looked directly into her eyes.

  “It was so real,” she said.

  He slowly stood. “It was real. Not your actual father, no, but the one who tells you that you’re not good enough. That you don’t belong. The one we all secretly fear when we the lights are off. The one religion has turned into a god made in their own image, capable of hatred.”

  His words struck a chord deep in her, and she felt the fear rise.

  Outlaw saw her visceral reaction and stepped forward. The world seemed to slow again. He put his hand on her shoulder and tilted his head down so that his forehead was only inches from hers. When he spoke, his words were soft, like a warm sun rising in her heart.

  “Listen to me, Christy. I need you to remember what I’m about to tell you. You hate yourself because you fear that your Father is capable of disapproval and rage. All of your fears come from this single image. The truth is you are treasured.”

  His voice came like honey to her tongue.

  “You are perfect even as your Father is perfect. Made whole and blameless a long time ago.”

  Like warm bread to the famished; like cool water to a parched throat.

  “Beautiful. As you are, without a single change. Atoned. Made right. No condemnation possible, no further correction needed. Your only problem now is the one you make for yourself when you are blinded to just how beautiful you are right now, in this moment. As you always will be. I’m calling you home, Christy. To this reality and to those who see it with you. We are one.”

  She could barely speak.

  “He told me I needed correction. That I was broken. That I don’t belong. I… I don’t understand.”

  “That’s Lawson’s way. He confuses and accuses. The truth is, you’re whole already.”

  He brushed a tear from her cheek.

  “You cannot love anything or anyone more than you love yourself and you can’t truly love yourself unless you see yourself whole. If you secretly disapprove of any part of yourself, you will secretly hate part of the one who made you. Can you understand that?”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “The good news is, you can love yourself because you, too, are now love, dead to anything but love. Everything else is of your own making: a lie you believe; a story from an accuser that ravages you and keeps you locked in that cage. Love yourself, Christy, as he who made you loves you and has made you whole, without any further blame or fault. See with new eyes. Then you will know just how beautiful your world is. All of it. Every scar, every bruise, every tear, every joy. Beautiful.”

  Christy began to cry, not with sorrow, but from a place of overwhelming relief and joy. It bubbled up through her chest and spilled out of her like a river.

  “See, Christy. See.”

  And then it all became too much for her, and she lunged forward into his warm, musky clothing and chest, wrapping her arms around him as if he were love itself.

  “I see,” she sobbed.

  Her head was under his chin, and he cupped it with his hand and stroked her hair, accepting her tears. “You are loved. You are love itself. This is your family. You are home.”

  And in that moment, she knew that she was. Nothing bad had ever actually happened to her, and if it had, it was only
because she’d mistaken it as bad. How could anything bad have brought her here, to this man who held her like his own child?

  She was home.

  She stepped back from him and stared up into his face, trembling with wonder.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  He dipped his head, held her eyes with his own for a moment longer, then turned to Austin, who was staring as if struck by a star.

  Outlaw reached into his coat and pulled out a dark brown leather-bound book, pages curled from use. He stepped up to a large boulder on Austin’s left and studied the volume’s worn, soft cover, as if taken in by some deep secret buried in the pages of that singular book.

  “What do you see, Austin?”

  Austin was staring at the journal. “A book,” he said in a thin voice.

  Christy edged to the other side so that she could see what they were looking at.

  “It’s more than just a book,” Outlaw said. “It’s my mother’s story. My story. We all have our stories, but in the end they all come back to one word.”

  The leather cover was embossed with the same markings that were on the pendant around Outlaw’s neck. A large O with a word embossed inside of it.

  DEDITIO.

  “Do you know this word, Austin?”

  “Deditio.”

  “And its meaning?”

  “It’s Latin for ‘unconditional surrender,’” Austin said. “The demand of the Roman Empire when it conquered its subjects.”

  “The same Romans sometimes exacted that total surrender using a cross.” Outlaw faced Austin. “But in the end, it is surrender that conquers.”

  He put his hand on Austin shoulder and spoke in soft tone.

  “Surrender, Austin. Surrender who you think you are to who you truly are. Surrender what you think you know. Surrender even the need to know anything more than who you are. Do not lean on your own understanding.”

  Austin’s eyes skittered from side to side, searching Outlaw’s.

  “Our greatest challenge in life is remembering who we really are. Life is a cycle of remembering and forgetting. Do you know who you are?”

  Austin blinked.

  “You are not your mind. You are not your body. You are not even your beliefs—these are only of this world, mere flesh and blood and a few electrochemical reactions. You, my friend, are far greater than this. Be still and know, not with your mind, but with that which is beyond your mind. Are these words true to you?”

  Austin hesitated, then offered a shallow nod.

  “There are no longer any problems to solve. If there are no longer any problems to solve, there’s no longer any need for correction. If there’s no need for correction, then there’s no need for law. Live in the grace of that which is perfect already, as it is. Be perfect, don’t try to become perfect. You already are, you just don’t know it yet. Be still and know. You must surrender your mind and know with your heart where the lamps are on and the light is bright.”

  Slowly, Austin’s face twisted into a knot. Tears filled his eyes, and Christy thought, He sees too. He’s saved from this insanity too!

  Outlaw lingered for a moment, then picked up his book and shoved it into a pocket sewn inside his coat. He walked several steps away, as if his work was done and it was time to leave. His strides were sure, like a man who knew where he was going but had nowhere to be.

  When he turned around his coat rose with the wind.

  “See, my friends. With eyes wide open. Don’t forget. You don’t have to understand everything right now, but you are going to have to decide if you trust me, or trust Lawson. The choice is yours. Keep your eyes open.”

  I will! Christy was thinking. She’d never felt so elevated and sure of that fact than any she’d ever known. She was beautiful, perfect, loved, love. As she was. She’d been seeing herself without the lights on and in that shadow, she’d imagined that she was ugly, at terrible fault, and deserving of punishment. But the good news was that she wasn’t. Not any more. Not one more minute.

  She was thinking that in a long rush of exhilaration, but those thoughts were suddenly darkened by a shadow across her face.

  Like a crow coming in from the sky, the shadow covered her vision and she caught her breath.

  Not a shadow, but fingers. Fingers that grasped the glasses and jerked them from her face.

  Christy gasped.

  In the space of one blink, her vision of the canyon vanished was ripped away. Replaced with the face of Kern Lawson. He was grinning and her glasses were in his hand.

  They were in her room.

  “Are we courting our delusions again, Alice?” He opened his fingers and let her glasses fall. They landed on the floor with a metallic clink. Then he lifted his boot, and, without looking down, crushed them under his heel.

  “Fairytales are for children, my dear.”

  “No…” She felt gut-punched. Visions of Outlaw swirled in her mind.

  And yet… And yet she was here. In her room. Standing exactly where she’d been standing when she first put the glasses on. And the image in the mirror showed her plain as day.

  She looked like she’d just stepped out of a prison camp.

  “No?” Lawson said. He stepped over to Austin, who was still lost in his own world, ripped the glasses from his face, and smashed them under his foot.

  “Playtime’s over, children.”

  WITH A twist of his heel, Lawson ground the last remaining bits of glass into the floor. Slowly, he bent and picked up the twisted frames. Turned them as if inspecting a butterfly with broken wings.

  “I’m disappointed,” he said without looking at them. “And this after so much progress.”

  Austin took in the room with a glance. He was back in the hospital with Christy, but it was the skeletal Christy—skin drawn tight on a brittle frame, stitched up, and looking like a coat rack. Gone was the girl he’d just seen in the canyon.

  He was having a hard time getting oxygen into his lungs. There was no explanation for any of this—the glasses, the man in the canyon, the brilliant sunset. They’d left the hospital, yet here they were again.

  Both couldn’t be true—either they’d left the room and the canyon was real, or they hadn’t and everything was an illusion. He felt like he’d just awakened from a distant dream.

  Remember what I’ve said, Austin. Remember every word.

  Austin stared at Christy, whose wide eyes searched the room as if looking for the man. Outlaw.

  “I expected more, honestly,” Lawson said as he let the glasses slip from his hand.

  Christy’s fingers began to twitch. Her anxiety fed his own and caused the fear in his own mind to swell.

  “We need to go deep now, while the door to your mind is still open,” Lawson said. He walked to Austin and took him by the elbow. Austin tried to jerk his arm away, but the man’s grip clamped down like a vice.

  He shoved a finger at the wheelchair. “Sit.”

  Austin sat.

  His mind spun like bald tires on hard packed dirt, unable to bite into the ground. Because there was no ground at all. It had been jerked out from under him.

  Deditio… Surrender, Austin.

  The thought was sparked in the corner of his consciousness as Lawson turned the wheelchair toward the door. Surrender, but to what? To this reality or to the other, which was no longer present?

  “No, wait.” Christy took a step forward.

  The man glared at her. “Reacquaint yourself with reality, my dear. I’ll be back when we’re ready.”

  Christy stood there trembling. “Ready for what?”

  Lawson smiled. “Why, ready for some correction, obviously.” He shifted his stare down to Austin. “Beginning with you.”

  Without another word, he wheeled Austin to the door. Opened it with a swipe of his wrist.

  “Remember, Austin!” Christy cried. “We have to remember!”

  Lawson wheeled him through the door and turned down the hall. He had already taken several long strides before th
e door slammed shut behind them, sealing Christy in and him out.

  Life is a cycle of remembering and forgetting.

  Already the episode with Outlaw felt unreal. Like a dream he couldn’t quite put his finger on. His head began to throb—the pain was back like a pounding fist.

  “Where are we going?” Austin asked.

  Lawson didn’t respond.

  Spikes of fear sank into Austin as the stark image of the pitch-black cell materialized in his mind. He couldn’t go back to the cell. He wasn’t strong enough. Not anymore. His mind was too fragile, untrustworthy.

  Don’t forget who you really are.

  The long hallway stretched in front of him like the throat of a terrible monster. He clenched his eyes shut. Slowly opened them.

  Who am I?

  Lawson’s voice jerked him back to awareness. “You’re problem is that you’re stuck.”

  There’s only a problem if you say there is.

  “Even after a week in that hole. Stuck, stuck, stuck, my boy. Like a pig that can’t see beyond its pathetic little mud hole, you’re hopelessly mired in a persistent delusion—blind to the fact that you need correction. Well, Scotty, I’m going to help you see. With those two little orbs floating in your skull.”

  The man’s words flared in Austin’s mind, sparking a wildfire of fear. Something had changed in Lawson. Austin had to convince Lawson that he was okay, that he wasn’t delusional. It was the only way to stay out of the cell and hold onto whatever tattered pieces of himself remained.

  “You’re right,” Austin said. “I’m already beginning to see. There’s no problem.”

  “No problem?” The man chuckled. “You and I both know that’s not true, don’t we? You’re still blind.”

  “Blind to what?”

  “To the truth, of course. You’re being sucked into lie that’s rooted deep inside.”

  Remember the truth, Austin.

  Hold on to the truth.

  “What truth?” he asked, voicing the thought circling his mind.

  “The truth that this is reality. Everything you see around us—all of it is absolute, verifiable, concrete reality. Not the mirages you’ve conjured in your cracked little mind. You can’t accept that because you’re still trapped in your delusion.”