The Heart Shaped Box

I stood in the town square, and saw many people just like myself clutching their heart shaped box. In my hand was a box identical to the one everyone else was holding. I gazed upon my box, and was intoxicated by its charm. It smelled like sweet perfume, and had an endearing, smooth surface that seemed to glow even in the daylight. I loved that box, and strangely enough, it seemed to love me, also. Sometimes, I could literally hear it calling out to me, cooing me to do this and that. That box was as much a part of me as my skin, and I needed it’s presence like the air I breath. We accompanied each other like new lovers, and when we were together, what fun we had! It was as if the world around us didn’t exist. The only thing I cared about was that box. I met others who shared affection for their boxes, and their affections for their own boxes served as affirmation to me that our love was true. I learned early on to not make company with anyone who would cause me to compromise my adoration for my box. After all, it was mine, and it possessed the power to make me whole. I knew somehow, it was that box that would assure everything would be ok. One day, while walking with my box hand in hand, someone said to me, “Within that box is your very soul.” This only seemed to vindicate me to love my box more earnestly. I always felt as if it were a part of me, but now I knew it contained a critical part of my humanity, and it was the part that gives me purpose, direction, and meaning. I knew then, that to lose this box would be to lose my very life.

One day, I passed a man who looked very sad, and his box was bright blue, but seemed to still shine with great vitality. I asked him, “sir, why are you so sad?” He glumly looked up at me and said, “I’ve lost my box. I gave it a girl I was sure would make my dreams come true, after all, the box told me to… but then she ran off with it, instead.” “Alas, good sir!” I said, “Is this not your box?” “Oh yes, yes it is.” Said the man, but I’m afraid this box won’t help me anymore.” Seizing the opportune moment to perhaps double my pleasure, I asked if I could take it. The man glared at me, and his eyes seemed to burn red. “Take my box?” He said calmly, and with in full restraint. I saw his box glowing purple and red. Immediately, his attention was led elsewhere, to man on who was heralding the importance of immediate release from the box. “It controls you!” said the man, “You must escape, escape while you still have time!” I remember looking down at my box, and thinking about how silly of a thing it was for that man to say. I loved my box, but more importantly, I knew my box loved me.

One day, another man said something to me I wouldn’t soon forget. He said, “Have you ever wondered what was inside your box?” up until that point, I hadn’t even thought about it. It never crossed my mind that I was carrying around a container. It must have something inside. Whatever it was, it sure smelled sweet. I noticed the man carried a heart shaped box that seemed to have some sutures. Clearly, this man had seen what was inside his own box. My eyes grew wide, my mouth started to water. I couldn’t imagine there could be anything more wonderful than what was actually inside this glorious box! I asked him, “Please, tell me, sir. What’s inside?” The man looked down and replied solemnly. “Nothing, nothing at all but blackness, and darkness, and the worst kinds of evil you can imagine.” “It isn’t true; say it isn’t true… please!” The man persisted, and said to me, “There’s no hope for us. We must carry this box with us until it finally kills us. Enjoy it while you can, child, for soon, you will die.” I backed up quickly, to get as far away from this man as I could, and I bumped into a woman standing behind me. “Child, you must go quickly to Exodus. He will tell you the truth about your box.” I learned later that the woman’s name was Wisdom.

I went happily along to see Exodus. When I came to his house, I could see the sincerity in his eyes. “Surely, this man wouldn’t lie to me,” I thought. “This man will tell the truth. He will tell me that I have nothing to fear, and that my box is to be kept safe.” My box seemed to echo these words as I spoke them. I moved swiftly to the place he sat. “Indeed,” Said Exodus, “I will take a look at your box, and see what’s inside. Exodus carefully examined my box, and concluded that my box was black as night. He looked up at me and sternly said, “Now listen to me, boy. What is inside this box will kill you if it’s not dealt with properly, because inside this box is a cancer so powerful, it will eternally consume it’s owner. There is only one solution.” Quite honestly, looking back, I didn’t hear him past his first sentence. I had had enough. I wasn’t interested in anything else Exodus had to say. I knew he was a liar. I knew my box would never hurt me. It only had the best intentions for me. As I stormed out of his house, I could hear a woman’s voice shout out, “your box is deceitful, and desperately wicked! Who can know it!”



After that day, something happened inside me. There was a stirring in me that seemed to desperately need to know what was inside of that box. The last thing I wanted to do was go back to Exodus, but I felt compelled. The next morning, on my way back to see Exodus, I met a man with a kind face that radiated with joy. His energy was enthusiastic, and after we exchanged pleasantries, He started right in: “I know you have been told there is a problem with your box. You want to know what’s inside. Well, I’m afraid it isn’t good, but fear not. I have the solution! Inside of this pot is a formula known as grace. If you would let me, I will pour this grace over your box, and all will be well. May I?” The person seemed to be frozen with a smile. I was skeptical, but he seemed so cheery. Clenching my box tightly, and leaning slightly on my heels in defensive posture, I asked one question… “Will this hurt my box?” I looked compassionately on my heart shaped box, and couldn’t bear the thought of parting with it… “Will it be any different than it is now?” I asked. His sweet smile seemed to fade, and in all seriousness, he said to me intensely, “We would never do anything to hurt you or your box. We only bring you healing, grace, love and peace. The maker of all things forbids we hurt anyone or anything.” All of those things he mentioned all sounded like good things, so I felt he could be trusted, but more importantly, it seemed as if my box trusted him as well. I wanted this business of bad things associated with my box to be over, so I relinquished my box, and he poured this sweet smelling liquid over my box. I watched the liquid run over the top, and down the sides onto the floor. I remember thinking it must have been a terrible waste, to lose this fluid, but none the less, he seemed to know what he was doing. Then he closed his eyes intently, and he asked me to repeat after him, and so I did. This is what I said, “Maker of all things, my box was sick, but your grace has made it well. Please keep it well until you return. Amen.” Then, with more enthusiasm than before, the man leaped for joy, and assured me that any issues my box had was now eradicated, and I didn’t need to fear for it anymore. He even handed me an official certificate of cleansing, which I grasped with full assurance. I was overjoyed! Finally, I was vindicated from what that sour, old Exodus had tried to tell me. “I didn’t think it would be so easy” I thought. Everything was the same, but still I knew things for us were as good as new! My box and I went out to celebrate this joyous occasion.

We passed by old Exodus’ house, and I thought maybe we should stop by for a visit. I wanted to show Exodus, who seemed to be an expert in the matter, my new heart. It was hardly new; it still had the same sweet aroma, the same vibrant glow. I never saw what was inside, I was only told, and I figured that this grace had cleansed my box as the nice man said, and surely Exodus could see that. I needed him to see that. I handed him my box for another examination. “It’s the same,” said Exodus, to my great displeasure. “Forgive me child,” he said as he gently sat me down. “bu… but… the grace, and the saying after, and everything… it’s ok now, isn’t it? Please, Exodus, tell me it’s ok.” I sobbed. I wanted to run away, but the compassion of Exodus kept me there. He picked me up, and said, “No, child, it’s not, but it will be ok, I promise.” Then a woman entered the room, and at first I did not recognize her, but later learned it was Wisdom. “Child,” she said, “your box is sick, and it will kill you, and it intends to,” My box turned purple and red, and I could start to feel the anger and resistance. She continued, “But there is a solution. The Maker of All Things must flood out the evil inside your box with grace.” After she said those things, I breathed a huge sigh of relief, and my box went back to normal. Finally… it all made sense. I jumped to my feet, wiped the tears of my face and exclaimed with great excitement, THEN IT’S FINISHED! I DID THAT THIS MORNING! Oh, what a joyous day, Exodus and Wisdom, then I am free!” But wise, old, Exodus could plainly see it was not the case. “Your heart is the same, child, I can see it, plain as day, nothing has changed.” I couldn't argue. Exodus was right. My box was the same. The same sweet, wonderful box I had fallen in love with since the beginning. There was much struggle before this moment, and I know any attempt to detail how I came to this point would prove to be in vain, so let me sum up how I arrived to the next point with this: I was compelled by a force outside myself to believe him, so I reluctantly handed him my box. Wisdom smiled, and assured me I made the wise choice. Wisdom looked over at the work Exodus was about to do and said “blessed are those whose delight is in the law of the Lord.”

Exodus carefully took it, set it on the table, and pulled from behind the door a large hammer with the word “LAW” inscribed on it. He raised it up to strike, and I felt as if it were crashing down on my own head! SMASH SMASH! Went the hammer, and I howled in pain. It was more than I could bear, so I thought, until I noticed what the hammer had revealed. All the sweetness in the world, everything lovely, everything worthy, everything wonderful that existed in this bright world since the dawn of time was no match for the vile, dung heap of darkness that was inside my box. It made me sick, seeing that. It was so vile, I had forgotten all about the sweetness of my box, and was now faced only with the blackness it truly was. I could see, clearly now, all the things we had enjoyed together was only an integral part of this darkness. “How could I have been so deceived?!” I thought. But clearly, this box was more deceitful than evil. The shiny outside I had been in love with didn’t appeal to me anymore. I saw only darkness, and blackness. After the shock of it all, I wanted to die. I began to be sure that there was no hope, because I saw that the darkness inside my box remained. The hammer surely revealed it to me, but was useless in destroying it. Exodus was careful, he handed me my box and looked up at Wisdom. Wisdom turned to me, and with some sense of urgency, said to me “Exodus is finished; you know what is in your box. You must go quickly, child, to the fountain of grace at the edge of the hill. You will find comfort there.” I remember thinking how tragic it would be if someone were to only meet Exodus, but not Wisdom. I ran as fast as I could, fighting back the hopelessness. I could still hear my box call out to me, telling me I could fix this somehow. I was tempted to rest, to sulk, to reason with my box, but I could only hear the words of Wisdom echo in my head. By now the weight of this box was crushing me more every step I took. I was thankful to Exodus, but it seared me so. I found the fountain, and standing there, in front of it, was the man I had seen before. He looked at me and smiled. I was sobbing, and greatly exhausted, but I managed to get out in broken language, “you must find Exodus”

Standing in the center was the man I knew I needed to see. I was stopped in my tracks at the sight of Him. The sheer majesty of Him left me speechless. Who is that, I whispered to no one imparticular, “That’s the prodigal’s father,” said a nearby stranger, and with a smile he finished: “He is the Maker of all things. He will heal you. He is the one Wisdom pointed to, the one Exodus revealed your need for. He will help you.” I later learned that man’s name was Prophecy.
This enormous figure appeared to be a statue, but on his hands and feet were wounds that poured out this liquid. Above his head was an inscription that read, “Come, all of you who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” Reading those words left me limp, so I dropped to my knees, and I cried out with the little strength I had left, “what must I do!”
My face was on the ground, and right in front of me, covered by some moss, was another inscription that read, “Whoever desires to keep their box will lose it, but whoever loses their box for my sake, will keep it.” Outside of myself, as if it were a dream, I threw my box into the fountain. I can’t say for sure what gave me the strength, but into the fountain of grace went my box. I was finished with it, and content to die right there alone, but something contrary to what I had expected came over me. Instead of grief, great joy filled my heart. I was compelled to get up, run to the other side of the fountain and see what the maker of all things had done.

I thought maybe, just maybe, I would get my box back, but the thought of the possibility of getting my old box back seemed to kill my new found joy, but indeed, the fountain had something else for me. I fell on my face before the maker of all things, and in front of me read, “My presence I leave with you.” The maker of all things did indeed replace my box, but it was a new box. In front of me stood the hollow, shell of my box, not even recognizable. Inside of it, I could now clearly see. Inside was this grace I had thrown it into. My box came back to me something different, something sweeter, and something acceptable, and I knew it was only this grace inside that made it so. My box had to be broken, and cast into the fountain so it could be filled with this grace. It was over, I was healed, and I can now say with all certainty, for the first time, through Grace, I have life.