Abednego survives the fire

by Rachel Ann Russell 

Couldn’t move my arms or legs.

Couldn’t wipe the sweat stinging my eyes.

We were at the door of the furnace,

and I was praying,

“Oh Lord my God, King of the Universe, the Lord is One.”

As always, but this time with a twisting stomach—

How much was this going to hurt? I would

never doubt God, never bow to a golden idol,

but how much was this going to hurt?

The push, the slam of the door, a blast

of air as I close my eyes and the air feels -- cool.

I think then I’ve died that quick, a slam, a door closing

but I open my eyes to flames everywhere: I’m still in here.

And Shadrach and Meshach are already dancing, steps

weaving around flames, feet leaping for joy

and I realize with us, right there with us, is

God himself, whose touch freed me.

I dance then too, and believe this or not:

We would have stayed right there, in the flames

with God

forever.

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Rachel Ann Russell has earned a Master of Arts at Wesley Theological Seminary in Washington, D.C., and has taken classes at The Writer’s Center. Her special place is where art turns into joy and church. She has been most recently published, among other places, in the Maryland Literary Review, Time of Singing, Christian Courier, and Hearts of Flesh Literary Journal. She blogs at https://rrussell10.wordpress.com/.