The Princess wrapped her arms around her friend, who clutched her in desperation. He didn’t realize his strength was hurting her injuries. She shifted to be more comfortable and felt him shake, fighting not to make a sound. After all, jaguars don’t cry...
“I’m not sorry that you’ve come to this point,” she whispered soothingly near his ear, pulling back the lock of sun-kissed brown hair that he grew long to hide his scar. Her eyes swam in tears of awe at who he was and at the price God’s plan had cost him. “You know how people in scripture were entrusted with incredible, impossible, terrible tasks? This is greatness. This is what it means to be larger than life. Almost no one else can be trusted with so much.”
He tried to suppress a sob, trapping it between her hair and his lips against it. She ran her palm back and forth over his shoulder and said soothingly, “Don’t you see what an honor it is to live what you were called to be? It’s lonely because it’s lofty, high, far and away above what almost anyone can be. Remember that quote of Jim Elliot’s you once taught me, something about how our own personal dreams are tawdry, not worthy of the aura of wonder we usually surround them with, when compared with surrendering to God?”
She stroked his head with one hand and kept the other around him. “It’s a gift just to know you, Jaguar. I hope you’ll always be my friend.”
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