The Archer

<p>READ: <a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=JOHN+3%3A14-18%3B+14%3A5-10%3B+ROMANS+3%3A21-27&amp;version=NLT" data-type="link" data-id="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=JOHN+3%3A14-18%3B+14%3A5-10%3B+ROMANS+3%3A21-27&amp;version=NLT">JOHN 3:14-18; 14:5-10; ROMANS 3:21-27</a></p> <p>I jumped when the solid oak door slammed behind me, its banging echoing through the empty chamber. The dust from the floor blew up into my nose, and I coughed, the nervous pit in my stomach growing even tighter.</p> <p><em>Just one shot…one shot…</em> I repeated to myself as I looked up to see the fabled target, glaring down at me from its perch on the wall.</p> <p>One day every year, the king allowed new prisoners the chance to walk free if we could do one thing: shoot an arrow into the very center of this target with only one shot. Each prisoner got to try once. It was either make this shot and rejoin the kingdom with a clean slate, or miss and spend the rest of my life in the dungeons.</p> <p>Our kingdom was famous for its archers. Our nobles were some of the most accurate and skilled—I’m even excellent according to some. But better archers than me had missed this shot. And now it was my turn.</p> <p>Trembling, I reached back into my quiver and pulled out the one arrow I was allowed, anchoring it on my bowstring. <em>Breathe… breathe…</em> I lifted my bow, aiming the tip of my arrow for the target’s bright red center. My fingers clenched, threatening never to loose the arrow.</p> <p>And then I saw him.</p> <p>The prince. Like a ghost, he had appeared in the doorway out of the dungeons. Of all the king’s archers, he was the best. He never missed. I looked at the target, then back at him. Suddenly, I knew. He was the only one who could make this shot.</p> <p>His kind eyes met my terror-filled gaze, and without another thought, I barely whispered, “I’m sorry… Help me… please.” He approached me and said, “Don’t be afraid. My Father sent me.” He took the bow from my hands, and I felt