Hinds’ Feet on High Places

In a scene intended to evoke the resurrection scenes of the empty tomb in the New Testament gospels—awaking in the mouth of a cave after falling asleep, covered in wrappings perfumed with incense and spices—Much-Afraid wakes to a clear day “shimmering in a blaze of radiant sunshine […] astonished to find no trace of a wound—not even a scar” (124). Stepping out of the cave, Much-Afraid sees the altar upon which she laid herself down, and in the morning light the whole scene is bathed in a new light; there are “verdant grass” and “banks of sweet-smelling thyme, moss, and myrtle along the sides of the rocky walls” (124). Everything has been transformed in the wake of her sacrifice, almost as if she has new eyes to see.

With no trace of her companions, Sorrow or Suffering, Much-Afraid comes to “the most beautiful and wonderful thing of all […] a great ‘river of water, clear as crystal’” (125), relayed by the narrator using imagery from the Book of Revelation concerning the river of life flowing out of the heavenly temple (Rev 22:1). Immersing herself into the flowing water, Much-Afraid undergoes a kind of baptism into her new life (further hinted at by the white linen robe she is wearing) in which she is cleansed of the sins of her former life, coming up out of the pool “with a sense of perfect well-being” (125). The water from this river of life renews her completely, healing her legs and feet and transforming her face from its former crookedness into “the face of a little child” (126), birthing her into a new life in the High Places.

“On the third day” (127), another resurrection parallel, Much-Afraid is called out of the canyon to the summit of the mountain where she greets the Shepherd, finally having received the hinds’ feet that she longed for all along. Dressed and crowned as royalty, the Shepherd greets Much-Afraid with her new name: “This is the time when you are to receive the fulfillment of the promises. Never am I to call you Much-Afraid again […] From henceforth you are Grace and Glory” (128). Now her transformation is complete—she was once Much-Afraid, a disfigured image of what she was always meant to be, beset by fears and self-loathing, yet now she is Grace and Glory, a brilliantly transfigured icon of love, fashioned in the image present in the mind’s eye of the Shepherd all along. From the first moment of her acquaintance with the Shepherd, this is what she has desired—“earnestly she longed to be completely delivered from these shortcomings and to be made beautiful, gracious, and strong as were so many of the Shepherd’s other workers, and above all to be made like the Chief Shepherd himself” (3)—and now the deepest desire of her heart has come true.

Revealing to Grace and Glory that he was the priest at the altar, he takes the stones that she has collected along the way at all the little altars she built in obedience to his commands, sacrificing her will upon them and memorializing particular moments of importance along the way. The stones that she was so near to casting away are poured into her hands and are themselves transformed into precious jewels, mementos of her former victories set into a crown for all to see and honor the work of the Shepherd in her. As a final note of joy, Grace and Glory is reunited with her travel companions, Sorrow and Suffering, who have themselves been transfigured and been given new names as well—now they are known as Joy and Peace. Embracing Grace and Glory, they thank her for bringing them into the High Places with her: “[W]e could never have come here alone, Grace and Glory. Suffering and Sorrow may not enter the Kingdom of Love, but each time you accepted us and put your hands in ours we began to change” (132). Much-Afraid’s choice to embrace the pain and sorrow of her journey on the way not only gains her a new name but is even able to transfigure the experience of a life with sorrow and suffering into an existence marked by joy and peace.

In the final two chapters, Grace and Glory and her friends spend the time learning from the Shepherd King and wandering through the hills of the High Places, reveling in their newfound happiness. Since she has come to the heights, Grace and Glory has realized that all she knew formerly was but a shadow and sliver of the truth of things, and from her new vantage point and transfigured form, she can see that her understanding is now much fuller due to her experience. She even knows that what she now understands is itself but a glimmer of the fullness of reality as she continues to pray for further and further insight, for “she often thought that the prayer which best expressed her heart’s desire was that of the blind man, ‘Lord, that I might receive my sight! Help me to open myself to more light’” (134). With this new sight, she can clearly see the suffering present in her former home, the Valley of Humiliation: “As she thought of them and their wretched existence a pang of compassion and pain shot through her heart” (140).

In her former life all she felt was disgust and revulsion at the thought of them, but now she is capable of feeling profound empathy and compassion for all her former relations who are imprisoned by their own fears and disordered passions to a degree that surpasses even that of the former Much-Afraid. Desiring only to share the gifts that have been given to her so freely by the Shepherd, she determines to go back to the Valley with Joy and Peace to speak for the Shepherd, in the hopes that the self-imposed deafness of the Fearings can be broken by a familiar face. Casting themselves into the great waterfall that runs from the peak of the High Places down to the lowest places on earth, Grace and Glory and her companions abandon themselves “to share with others the life which they had received” (146).