Chapter 21 Love Songs
With Pain’s bulk no longer blocking the window, the room brightened.
“We brought a VCR tape for you two,” said Reason cheerfully. “One that they made at the Embassy. It’s some songs that Grace and Truth wrote together and—” She glanced sheepishly at Humility. “—Love dragged me into helping sing them. It turns out that, well, they say I have a voice.”
“Cous’ , I’ve never seen you blush before,” said Pride.
“Well, you’ve never heard me sing before, either,” she replied gently. “Now Doubt, we’re supposed to ask you to watch, too, since you seem well enough, because one of the songs is for you.”
Reason looked up at Humility. “Maybe you’d better explain about the lyrics.”
“Neither of you will like them,” said Humility with a grin. “You won’t be hearing nice things about yourselves. But as the Pastor says, facts are facts, and the sooner you face up to them the better. How about it, pal? Are you up for it?”
Pride firmed his mouth and nodded. However, when Humility turned an arched eyebrow to Doubt, she turned away. Immediately, she felt his large hand on her shoulder, turning her back around, and his blue eyes were much too close to her face.
“No pouting fits,” he said. “If you’re too sick, then go back to bed; but if you stay, treat me with respect.”
She looked with alarm to Pride and found him, unthinkably, smiling.
“Sit down,” said Humility, and with more help from him than she required, Doubt did so. “Where’s the TV?” he asked.
Reason took him down the hall to get a television.
Alone for the moment with Pride, Doubt slowly found her voice. “That rude, overbearing, conniving rascal!”
“Now, now,” said Pride, “I know I avoided him for years, but I think I was wrong about that. I understand how you feel, of course. You’re afraid I’ll let him talk me into something stupid. But I never said that I’d give up this house. I just—need someone to help me get through right now.”
“You suicidal fool,” she whispered fiercely, as Humility and Reason returned with the TV cart.
When Reason had plugged in and adjusted the set, she punched in the tape. On the screen they saw Humility’s pretty daughter Love, sitting on a high stool with a guitar strapped over her shoulder.
“Hi,” her image said. “I know I’m talking to Pride and I hope to Doubt, too. Are you there, Mrs. Doubt?” She giggled nervously. “Well, we’re here at the Divine Embassy and Ambassador Grace and Pastor have been writing some songs we want to share with you; and our friend Reason is going to help me sing them. Oh, and you can’t see him, but my older brother Joy is holding the camcorder. Say something, Joy. No? He doesn’t want to. Anyway, these songs might seem kind of mean to you, but they’re really, really not. Please believe us that we mean well, and if you really think about what we’re saying, you’ll see it’s true and that it’s meant to help you.”
As she strummed the guitar, the camera backed off to show Reason, also on a stool. “The first song is called ‘Pain Has Come to the House of Pride,’” Love said. They sang.
Pain has come to the house of Pride,
Pride will never be the same.
He was unmoved by kindness, let cruelty guide
The rebel’s stiff legs till they’re lame.
Pain and pain in his rebel mind
And terrible dread in his heart.
Let him yearn for the past and be blind, blind, blind
To the Grace who dwells apart.
Chorus:
Believe Mammon’s lies, and weep for the prize
That the world used to dangle before your eyes;
And this dark, dismal Test will become your guest,
Take all room for himself and expel the rest.
Pain has come to the house of Pride
And has stirred the blazing coals
Of anger and hatred and crime inside
Till they’ve burned Pride full of holes.
Pain and pain and pain and pain!
And Pride will not be saved
From the lock that has closed on the iron chain
By which he is enslaved.