Unfortunately, this is not for the Inklings Challenge (though I have been working on that all week.) But a couple of years ago, I had this idea for a story similar to The Pilgrim's Progress, and after a long hiatus, it's finally complete. I will be posting a few chapters here and plan on self-publishing in a few weeks' time. The book will include illustrations by @evelynmlewis, so please check out her page as well. Without further ado, I present to you:
The Pilgrims’ Daughters
A continuation of The Pilgrim’s Progress by John Bunyan
Chapter 1: Desolation
Late one night as I sat by my fire and read a familiar book, I found myself overcome by sleep, and as I dreamed, I saw the book before me coming to life before my eyes, transporting me from my living room to a world both familiar and foreign.
I saw in my dream a girl whose name was Christian, who had fled with her family from the City of Destruction, and wore the clothes of a pilgrim on the way to the Celestial City, and carried with her a key called Promise and a scroll called Assurance, which she had received at the cross. It was there that her mother, once Fearful, became Valiant, and her father, who had been called Stubborn, became Steadfast. Even her younger sister had been changed from Sullen to Joyful. Yet Christian was simply Christian, and she was not ashamed of her name or the One she represented.
They had gone a good way down the straight, narrow path when they came to the town of Vanity and passed through its great Fair, where their refusal to buy of the Fair’s goods had enraged the people beyond reason, and they set out to persecute and kill them. It was in that town that Christian’s parents and sister died, and Christian alone was taken to a far country and sold as a slave.
She was brought to the heart of Desolation, to a great house called Decadence owned by one Lawless, who set her to work in the fields and among the animals. There were in the house two sisters about Christian’s age. The younger of the two was a lively, sympathetic creature, who quickly took to Christian and tried by various means to distract her from her grief. Though she was no longer exactly a child, she had not yet received her proper name, nor made one for herself. But as there were only two young ladies in the house and one did not speak, Christian did not find this particularly troublesome.
The elder girl was rarely seen outside her room, though Christian often saw her at her window, looking out over the field. She wore a very stately gown and a great deal of jewelry, and the sight of Christian often made her start back, as if in horror.
“Don’t mind her,” the younger girl said of her sister. “She’s hopeless.”
And it seemed that Hopeless was indeed her name, for she always went about with such a look of defeat and despair as to depress the spirits of the merriest person, so that Christian was rather relieved to be spared her company.
It was, therefore, with great surprise that Christian discovered her in her room late one afternoon, looking over a little book, which was one of the few possessions Christian had in all the world. When she saw that Christian had come in, she quickly closed the book and leapt to her feet.
“I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I didn’t mean to pry, but I hoped to speak with you a moment, and I couldn’t help noticing—”
She stood holding the book for a moment as if unsure whether or not to give it up.
“Is this yours?” she asked finally.
Christian looked at her warily and said that it was.
“And…do you really believe everything that it says?”
Christian affirmed that she did.
“Then,” —here the girl’s voice dropped to a whisper— “are you really going to the Celestial City?”
As Christian stared in amazement, the girl continued, “Do you know the way? Will you take me with you?”
Now Christian was sorry to disappoint the girl, and had just opened her mouth to admit that she was not at all sure of the way to the gate, which she knew must be the first step on the path, as she had been only a child when she had first come to it. But as she was about to speak, she looked out the window and saw to her surprise a light shining in the growing darkness, and there, at the far end of the field, where moments before there had been only a line of trees, now stood a little wicket gate.
Chapter 2: To the Gate
At the sight of the gate, Christian and her companion felt a surge of hope and made haste to leave at once. As it was now almost evening, when much of the house was asleep or just waking up, they had little fear of being noticed or stopped, and agreed that the best course of action would be to leave by the front door and run across the open field, straight for the gate. After taking back her book and securing it in her pocket, Christian ran to the younger girl’s room and knocked, in hopes of persuading her to join them.
The first knock received no response, so Christian tried again, with more urgency. At last there was a stirring inside, and the door opened slightly, revealing the younger girl, disheveled and deeply annoyed at being roused from her sleep.
“What do you want?”
“The gate I told you of has appeared in the distance. We must go at once.”
“You mean to leave us?” the girl asked in confusion. “But you can’t! What will we do without you?”
“I don’t want to leave you,” Christian said, “but I can’t stay here, in a city doomed to destruction. Please, come with me.”
The girl seemed somewhat appeased by this answer, but after some consideration asked, “But what’s the hurry? Can’t we wait until the morning?”
“We haven’t a moment to lose. There are many warnings against putting off such opportunities, such as, Today if ye will hear His voice, harden not your heart, and, Boast not thyself of tomorrow; for thou knowest not what a day may bring forth, and, Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation.”
Yet the younger girl still hesitated and urged Christian to go ahead, which she at last did, with some discouragement.
The two girls seemed to be about halfway across the field, which now appeared far longer, wider, and wilder than it had just moments before, when they heard a voice calling after them, and looking back, they saw the younger girl running to catch up with them, though slowly and often stopping to catch her breath. Christian now gladly stopped and waited for her, while the elder girl walked ahead alone.
Now it came to pass that before she had gone much farther, she came over a little hill and found straight ahead a great swamp, and, seeing no way over or around, she stopped and stood at the very edge.
After some time, the others caught up to her, the younger girl clearly having recovered a great deal of energy as she came rushing headlong and pushed her sister into the swamp.
“Well, what were you doing just standing there?” she demanded.
“Do you not see the swamp before us? I can see no way to get through.”
“I remember,” Christian offered, “there used to be a set of steps by which we might cross safely. Look, here.”
With that, the younger girl pushed forward and went running ahead, while Christian followed after as quickly as she could, watching carefully lest she should, in her haste, slip and fall into the swamp. The elder girl went slowly after, and it was not long before she lost sight of the others.
It was then I saw that the girl called Hopeless indeed carried a heavy burden, though Christian did not perceive it. Her clothes and jewelry, which had looked very fine in the distance, appeared altogether different upon closer inspection. Her dress was cheap, deeply stained, and stiflingly hot, and yet somehow unable to keep out the wind, so she burned and froze all at once. What had looked like delicate chains of fine gold were chains indeed, surprisingly thick and badly tarnished, which coiled tightly around her neck, ankles, and wrists and weighed her down greatly until she could hardly stand. Yet greater still was the burden no one could see, that of her constant and growing awareness of her deficiencies and failures and her utter inability to overcome them, along with an ever growing sense of guilt and despair that could by no means be ignored or alleviated, fear of judgment and condemnation both in this world and the next, and constant fear and uncertainty which stole whatever peace or pleasure she might have otherwise found in material comforts.
After some time, she came to a place where the steps were particularly slippery and somewhat obscured by branches, rushes, and a heavy fog that came in as the sun began to set. Here she caught up with Christian, who had slipped and nearly fallen, and helping her up, they continued together slowly until they came to the end of the swamp, just as the sun began to rise again. Then did Christian quicken her speed and soon outpaced her companion once more, as she went calling after the younger girl, who was by now quite out of sight.
It was some time before the elder girl found them both, a little way out of the road, where Christian stood as if pleading with the younger girl, who stood with her arms crossed.
At the sight of her sister, the younger girl exclaimed, “Well, what do you think of your mad quest now? Are you ready to give it up? I met a man here, a very fine, respectable gentleman, who knows all about it, and he said that if you’re looking for peace and safety, this is the stupidest road you could take. It’s full of danger, fears, hunger, pain—”
“Don’t forget death,” the elder girl said dryly. “Frankly, this whole journey has looked pretty hopeless from the start. But we knew that before we set out. You’ve said as much yourself, more than once. Are you going to turn back now, at the first sign of difficulty?”
Her sister ignored her and continued, “We better turn aside to that mountain and the village of Morality.”
"We’d better have drowned in the swamp than venture out there,” the elder girl snapped, her patience at an end, then continued with emphasis, “This road leads to the Celestial City. What did you come here for, if you didn’t care about getting there?”
Here Christian recovered her voice and put in, “No doubt this road is dangerous, but the one Worldly Wiseman proposed is impossible. My own father, at one time, thought to turn aside there, not seeing the necessity of the narrow path before us, and was nearly killed. If Evangelist had not come after us, surely we would have been crushed by the Law. Come, friend, and do listen to reason. If you fear to take this straight road with the King’s blessing and promise of deliverance, how do you expect to make it on that steep, winding path that only brings a curse, and will only add to your burden?”
“Why should I be burdened at all? And why should I deny myself safety and comfort and happiness for the King, when I might live as a queen here, or care about the Celestial City, which is likely no more than a story, after all? You two can go about looking as dull and dreary as you please, but I mean to enjoy myself now.”
At this response, Christian was filled with astonishment and wondered how she could have been so deceived regarding her companion’s character.
“What did you come for, then?” the elder girl repeated furiously.
“I thought it sounded like a fine adventure, and one worth attempting for all your talk of the nice things ahead, but it’s clear now that you’ll die if you go that way.”
“We’ll die all the same if we don’t. And I suppose it’s better to die on the path to the Celestial City than on that mountain, or in Decadence or Desolation, or in any City of Destruction. If you want to go to your death there, you may, but don’t expect us to come along.”
Then I saw the younger girl turn back, though Christian tried hard to persuade her to stay, and the elder, after watching her a moment, came to Christian and urged her to hurry along to the gate.
They went but slowly, as Christian now found herself nearly undone by the grief of this latest loss, and assailed by doubts and fears which slowed her pace greatly, though she did all she could to combat them, calling to mind various verses by which she had comforted herself heretofore. Nevertheless, she was not now a very agreeable companion, and after a few sharp words, the girls walked on in silence. Christian’s companion had no trouble keeping up with her and often found herself urging Christian forward, until at last they came to the gate. There, at last, it was the elder girl who went forward and knocked, inquiring of the man at the gate whether it was the way to the Celestial City and desiring entrance.
The gatekeeper, called Goodwill, pulled them both in quickly, and upon looking them over, immediately recognized Christian, who told him, in a few words, what had happened to her.
“I am sorry to hear it,” Goodwill said gravely, “though I do not doubt there is a good purpose for your coming this way again.”
“I thought,” Christian wondered aloud, looking about her, “that there was only one gate.”
“And so there is,” Goodwill replied. “But you will find that it is never far from those who truly seek it, though they be at the ends of the earth. Hence why there is no excuse for those who try to come in another way.” Perceiving that Christian looked somewhat uncertain, he asked, “Surely you did not doubt that you would be welcomed here?”
Christian sighed and looked down. “I have been out of the way for some time, and I hardly feel as though I belong here now.”
“Yet you are here, and you still wear the clothes of a pilgrim,” Goodwill observed. “Do you still carry the scroll and key you were given?”
Christian produced them at once and offered them to him for inspection.
“You see here that you have a sure and certain Promise and Assurance from the King Himself, that by two immutable things, in which it was impossible for God to lie, we might have a strong consolation, who have fled for refuge to lay hold upon the hope set before us. These things are sure tokens of your acceptance at the city to which you are going. You may, at any time, willfully cast them off and be a pilgrim no more (though even then, the promise remains, for even our faithlessness cannot nullify the faithfulness of God), but they can never be taken from you by force, nor can you simply lose them by a moment of foolishness or weakness.”
Christian gasped as he suddenly turned and threw the key as far as he could into the tall grass by the road, and gasped again when she found it once more hanging on a chain around her neck. Goodwill smiled and returned the scroll with a bow.
“How is it then,” Christian asked, “that when I was last at the Interpreter’s house, I saw a man in a cage, who despaired because he had no more hope of forgiveness?”
“I believe when you come there again, you will see that his case is much different than you remember.”
Turning to Christian’s companion, Goodwill said in a low voice, “I feel as though I have seen you before. Am I mistaken in thinking that you are the daughter of a woman named Hopeful?”
“That was my mother’s name,” came the quiet reply. “Did she truly come here, then?”
“Indeed she did, some years ago. I am afraid I cannot say what became of her afterwards, but you know that He who began a good work in you will be faithful to complete it. Do not fear, child, but have hope. It is likely that you will meet again, if you stay on this road. I am sure I need not tell you,” he added, “how grieved she was to be parted from you, but she prayed that you would come after her in time.”
The girl smiled and thanked him for his words, and with that, she and Christian set off to the Interpreter’s house.
Chapter 3: The Interpreter’s House
It was but a short distance from the gate to the Interpreter’s house, and thus it was but a short time before the girls had been shown through the whole house, from the dusty room cleansed by water, signifying the heart cleansed by grace, to the man pouring oil into the fire even as another tried to put it out, to the man awaking in terror from his dream of the coming judgment. Only one room remained, and the girls now stood at the door, wondering what they would see there.
If the man in the cage was sad, he did not show it. He sat quite content at a little desk, poring over some papers by the flickering light of a single candle, and muttering to himself.
“Ha. Ha. I’ve done it.”
“What have you done?” Christian asked.
“I’ve made my fortune. I’ve gained power and influence. I’ve secured my place in society. I am free.”
“You are in a cage.”
“Don’t talk nonsense, girl. I’m a free man, bound by no law but my own.”
The Interpreter here interposed to ask about the state of his soul.
“Don’t talk nonsense,” the man repeated sneeringly. “I’ve no time to talk about your childish superstitions. There was a time, when I was young, that I found myself influenced by such fears, and went to great lengths to be free of them, by following the straight, narrow path and avoiding such things that you call sinful, but now I’m free, and I mean to stay free.”
“How did this come to pass?” asked the Interpreter.
“The road was hard from the beginning. At first I rejoiced in every victory, but in time, when I thought I should begin to see some reward for my labors, the road grew no better, but rather worse. I also saw others passing by the wayside, who gained more rewards with fewer sacrifices. And I found the companions I had been warned against to be most agreeable and sympathizing gentlemen, while those I had considered my friends had offended me in many things. Also, the entertainments I had decried so earnestly in my youth I found to be quite harmless and enjoyable. And by and by, I came to see how foolish it was to give up all I had and all my hopes for success in the world, for the hope of one to come, which I am not at all convinced of.”
“But did you not come down this road to the cross? And did you not receive new clothes there, and other things besides?”
“I did. And I suppose they looked well enough at first, but I soon found there was nothing particularly special about them.”
The Interpreter begged him to look again, and offered him the clothes and scroll and key he had evidently discarded, which seemed to glow pleasantly in the dim light, but the man threw them back with an expression of disgust. The Interpreter then went so far as to unlock the cage, but before the door had moved an inch, the man furiously grabbed hold of it and slammed it shut once more.
The Interpreter looked grave as he pronounced, “God sent not His Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through Him might be saved. He that believeth on Him is not condemned: but he that believeth not is condemned already, because he hath not believed in the name of the only begotten Son of God. And this is the condemnation, that light is come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil.”
Seeing that the man remained wholly unaffected, the girls left the room in stunned silence, more deeply impressed by his wretched situation than anything they had witnessed heretofore.
"Truly does the hymn say, ’Twas grace that taught my heart to fear, and grace my fears relieved,” the Interpreter said. “Again and again, the Scriptures testify that our Lord is ready to pardon, gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and of great kindness, and that He resisteth the proud, but giveth grace unto the humble. But this man has thrown off all fear and all restraint, and in his pride and rebellion, he has bound himself in a cage that none can open.
“And yet,” he continued encouragingly, “we are persuaded better things of you, and things that accompany salvation. Though it may at times seem hard to see beyond present grief and trouble, to apply these truths to yourselves, remember, There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus, and perfect love casteth out fear.”
Before they parted, the Interpreter again encouraged them not to fear, “For,” he said, “though the path is filled with trials and dangers, this section here, from the gate to the cross, is the safest, for the King will suffer no open assault on pilgrims before they have had opportunity to reach their destination, unless they are utterly determined to proceed no further.”
The girls walked in silence for some time, both thinking on the things they had seen in the Interpreter’s house. For a while, they went on quickly, but soon they began to grow weary once more.
“Is it much farther from here?” Christian’s companion asked her at last.
“No,” Christian replied. “It is just up that hill.”
The other girl, perceiving that the hill was somewhat high and still a long way off, and that Christian was going as slowly as she was, suggested, “Then perhaps we might sit and rest here a little while.”
When Christian did not answer, she went to her and urged her to sit down with her by the road, and offered her some bread from her bag.
“It seems to me,” she said thoughtfully, “that we are now like Elijah, fleeing from Ahab and Jezebel. And you know that an angel appeared to him then, and bid him eat and drink and rest a while, lest he should faint on the way.”
“What do you know about it?” Christian asked in surprise, not expecting anyone hailing from Desolation to speak of such things with understanding, much less respect.
“My mother once had such a book as you have,” came the reply. “May I see it now?”
Christian offered it to her, and after a moment asked, “What happened to her?”
“She went on pilgrimage some years ago, and both the man at the gate and the Interpreter said that she came this way, but they could tell me no more. She would have taken us with her—I would have gone—but—”
Here her voice broke off and she began quickly searching the pages of the book, and as Christian looked carefully upon her companion, she began for the first time to see both her grief and the burden she carried.
“But here is some comfort,” the girl continued with an attempt at cheer, “Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted. Doesn’t that sound nice? And listen:
“Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? ... Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him that loved us. For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
Then she turned the pages once more and read slowly, “And, lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world.”
It was then that the girls opened their hearts to each other and became friends. After some time, they looked ahead and found that the cross looked much nearer than it had when they first stopped. And so with more hope than either had felt in a long time, they continued their pilgrimage together.
I've been working on two projects at once and falling behind on them both, but progress is being made. I got the proof copy of the book and now I'm just making some last-minute adjustments:
Chapter 4: Through the Valley
The girls came to the hill and to the foot of the cross in what seemed like no time at all. It was there that Christian found herself greatly refreshed and relieved, both by the memory of her initial deliverance from her burden of sin and guilt, and by the present assurance and encouragement she found there, to come boldly unto the throne of grace, to obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need, as one who was reconciled to God by the death of His Son, blessed with all spiritual blessings in heavenly places in Christ, chosen in Him before the foundation of the world to be holy and without blame before Him in love, adopted, accepted, and redeemed through His blood, according to the riches of His grace, to the praise of His glory.
As Christian rejoiced and gave thanks, it was some time before she remembered her companion. Then she looked and saw the girl, now dressed quite simply in the clothes of a pilgrim, but looking far happier than she ever had before, and by her two Shining Ones, who also beckoned to Christian.
“Now,” said one with a smile, “you see your companion is no longer Hopeless, but Faithful, and a most suitable friend for a Christian.”
Faithful, already speechless with joy and fairly bouncing with exuberance as she marveled at her deliverance and the gifts she had been given, was nearly overcome by this last pronouncement, and there was no doubt that she meant to live up to her name.
After a few more words of encouragement and exhortation, Christian and Faithful went their way down the path, sometimes talking, sometimes laughing, sometimes reading from their book, and sometimes singing songs of praise. In time, they came to the hill called Difficulty, where they found the road a stark and lonely one, with various obstacles and little encouragement, and just as the man in the cage had warned, if they happened to look down, they could see many simply going around the mountain with apparent ease. Yet there they found the truth of the Scripture, Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labor. For if they fall, the one will lift up his fellow: but woe to him that is alone when he falleth; for he hath not another to help him up. Thus they made good progress, helping and encouraging one another in turn, and taking only a brief rest in the Arbor of Ease they found halfway up the hill, and so they came to the top well before evening.
There they saw a sight which they agreed should have been sufficient inducement to make the journey, even alone, for before them stood a palace which surpassed all their expectations. Christian found that even her memories of the place could not compare to the reality before her, for the palace, like all things built by the Lord of the hill for the relief and security of pilgrims, was constantly under construction, while the things of the world were constantly growing worse and breaking down, so that year by year, the differences between the two were growing starker.
The only thing that might have given the girls pause was the pair of lions which stood by the road on either side of a narrow passage, but Christian remembered that they were chained, and Faithful reasoned that even if they were loose, they had not come so far only to die within sight of refuge. So they came to the house without fear and were welcomed in by the porter Watchful and four sisters by the names of Discretion, Prudence, Piety, and Charity, who offered them rest and refreshment, both by good food and good conversation, and over the course of a few days showed them many wonders, regarding both things past and things to come, and equipped them with armor and weapons suitable for pilgrims passing through treacherous regions: the belt of truth, the breastplate of righteousness, the gospel of peace, the shield of faith, the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which they were encouraged to use with all prayer and perseverance.
When at last Christian and Faithful were ready to continue on their pilgrimage, the sisters offered them some further provisions and accompanied them to the bottom of the hill, where they warned them about the dangers ahead.
“You must be ever watchful,” said Discretion, “for this valley is filled with all sorts of traps and snares.”
Prudence echoed her sister’s warning: “Remember all that has passed, and the promises that lay before you, and do not stray from the path, but stand firm in the face of fear and discouragement, and be on guard against false promises of safety and pleasure elsewhere.”
Piety urged them to pray at all times and meditate upon the Scriptures, and Charity urged them to walk together as much as possible. This advice seemed to serve them well in the first part of the valley, where Christian recalled a fierce battle with Apollyon, but which now seemed deceptively calm, as though their enemies lurking about saw it would be hard to prevail against two pilgrims, so long as they were traveling together by the light of day and forbearing one another in love, endeavoring to keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.
Unfortunately, the day passed quickly, and as the girls came to the next part of the valley, dark clouds gathered and a thick darkness fell upon them, and there was such a confusion of noise that they could neither hear nor see each other, except by the occasional flashes of lightning. But now there also appeared other figures along the path, adding to their confusion, so that sometimes one ran ahead and the other lagged behind, and at last they gave up hope of finding each other and pressed on in solitude.
It was there that they heard a multitude of voices whispering in their ears. Some declared that the other girl was proud and disagreeable, that she secretly thought herself superior and despised her companion for her weakness, and would abandon her at the first opportunity, if she hadn’t already, while others suggested that she was a nuisance and a hindrance, and ought to be given the slip before she brought her down with her. It came to a point where both girls were nearly half convinced that they should either betray or be betrayed by the other, but when they remembered all that had passed and considered what lay ahead, they were the more determined to hold on to what they knew was true, concerning both the things that were visible and invisible. Thus they slowly made their way through the valley, careful not to stray from the path into any of the traps or pitfalls surrounding them, and at daybreak rejoiced to find each other again.
It's official: The Pilgrims' Daughters is now available in print!
"Late one night as I sat by my fire and read a familiar book, I found myself overcome by sleep, and as I dreamed, I saw the book before me c
Chapter 5: Out of the Darkness
As Christian and Faithful left the valley, they saw before them a land of fruitful fields and groves and streams, which was as bright and peaceful as the valley had been dark and perilous. Here the road grew broad, so that pilgrims could wander where they liked without going out of the way, whereas in the valley it had in many places seemed hardly wide enough for one to walk safely, with a deep ditch on one hand and thick mud on the other. Here Christian and Faithful also found signs encouraging them to help themselves to whatever they found, which they did gladly, seeing that the provisions they had been given at the palace were already spent, and in short time, they had gathered a fine breakfast.
“Well,” Christian began once they sat down, “this is a pleasant change. How did you find the valley?”
“I expected it would be terribly lonely at first,” Faithful answered, “but soon enough, I would have welcomed loneliness rather than the company I found.”
“Did you meet anyone?”
“At first I heard only voices, whispering half-truths and whole lies full of doubt and discouragement, which are hardly worth repeating, but after some time, I met with a most dismal couple by the names of Melancholy and Commiseration, both of whom might have been better without the other. Melancholy was a pitiful, brooding man who had long ago made his home in the Valley of the Shadow of Death and now reigned as a sort of prince there. He could not conceive of a life beyond the valley and seemed to rather resent any attempt at consolation. His wife, who might have been a great comfort and help to him, only encouraged him in this attitude, listening and spurring on his complaints until he had quite worked himself up into a frenzy of despair.”
“Did you have much conversation with them?”
“I did. At first I was glad to have their company, taking them for fellow pilgrims, and though I soon realized my mistake, they would not be easily shaken off, but persisted in trying to turn me out of the way. They spoke a great deal about the many hardships and dangers along this road, recalling how even the heroes of the faith, who through faith subdued kingdoms, wrought righteousness, obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the violence of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, out of weakness were made strong, waxed valiant in fight, and turned to flight the armies of the aliens, nevertheless had trial of cruel mockings and scourgings, yea, moreover of bonds and imprisonment: being destitute, afflicted, tormented. And these all, having obtained a good report through faith, received not the promise: and so, they argued, what hope did we have of faring any better than they? Thus they urged me quite forcefully to turn aside with them and come stay a while at their home.”
“Doubtless if you had consented to go with them, you would have found yourself trapped there,” Christian said. “How did you escape them?”
“I remembered what they had apparently forgotten, that all these things came to pass because God had provided some better thing for us, that they without us should not be made perfect. Furthermore, I looked unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God. He did not offer mere sympathy for our fallen state, but His own life for ours, and if He endured such contradiction of sinners against Himself, we can hardly complain about our own light afflictions. I remembered also the encouragement that came with the warning as the Lord promised, In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.As I continued in this frame of mind, they soon found my company quite as disagreeable as I found theirs, and they went their way.”
“That is most fortunate,” Christian said. “I met with a similar attack on my way from Discontent and Resentment, who likewise said much about the hopeless prospect, not only of the valley, but the entire journey, and demanded what rewards I could claim for all my labor and sacrifice thus far, as I walked, by all appearances, alone through a dark and desolate wasteland. Thus they endeavored to persuade me that I was a victim of great injustice and would do well to abandon this road and seek peace and prosperity elsewhere.”
“It seems to me,” Faithful remarked, “that they were like the Sadducees, which say there is no resurrection, and thus could not see beyond the trials and temptations of this life, to the greater promises of the one to come.”
“So they were,” Christian agreed. “I found I could not deny the truth of the Scripture, If in this life only we have hope in Christ, we are of all men most miserable, but I reminded them that the reward for all our labor and sacrifice is yet to come. Furthermore, I remembered the exhortation, Let your conversation be without covetousness; and be content with such things as ye have: for He hath said, I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.When Discontent and Resentment saw it was so, they fled, for they could not long abide in His presence, and I went my way with great peace and good cheer, despite the darkness of the valley.”
As Christian and Faithful concluded their discussion, they saw a short distance away a girl coming down the road, who, when she saw them, ran and greeted Faithful as an old friend.
“I never thought to meet you here,” she exclaimed. “But I am happy to see you.”
“Indeed, it is a surprise,” Faithful agreed.
“If you are going to the Celestial City, you are welcome to join us,” Christian said. “We have hardly seen anyone on this road, and it will be good to have some company.”
The girl accepted the invitation at once and introduced herself as Fairweather, formerly of Desolation.
“And what a difference there is between this land and that one,” she said, looking around. “If I had known how many wonders lay along this road, I would have made the journey years ago.”
“What made you decide to go on pilgrimage at last?” Christian asked.
“I heard much about the Celestial City while I was still at home, and saw that many of my neighbors had gone on pilgrimage already. I heard also of the coming judgment and saw that there was no hope for the city in which I dwelt, nor any help to be found from the surrounding regions. Furthermore, I found myself nearly incapacitated by great infirmities of both body and mind, and met with a man who assured me I could find relief on this road. At first I feared it would be quite impossible for me to make the journey, but at last I found my life in that country to be so unbearable that I could see no reason I should not seek a better one.”
“It is well that you came,” Christian said, “and evident that by grace you have come so far, for we are told that God is able to make all grace abound toward you; that ye, always having all sufficiency in all things, may abound to every good work, and that He giveth power to the faint; and to them that have no might He increaseth strength, so that ye might be filled with the knowledge of His will in all wisdom and spiritual understanding; that ye might walk worthy of the Lord unto all pleasing, being fruitful in every good work, and increasing in the knowledge of God; strengthened with all might, according to His glorious power, unto all patience and longsuffering with joyfulness.”
“That is just what I want,” Fairweather exclaimed, “and I see the truth of all these things already. I am glad that I came, and that I have found such excellent companions for the journey. Happy is that people, that is in such a case: yea, happy is that people, whose God is the LORD.”
