THE NEW AMPLIFIED PILGRIM'S PROGRESS
Text From Pages 136 - 138 Of The Book
Christian, taking new courage from the Word, resolved
to play the man and began to gain new ground. Now the fierceness
of this combat no man can imagine. Apollyon belched smoke like
a dragon, fiercely roaring and hideously screaming the whole
time of the conflict. And oh, what sighs and groans did burst
from poor Christian’s heart. Now this violent combat lasted
for over half a day, and Christian, because of his wounds, found
himself growing weaker and still weaker. Apollyon, seeing opportunity
for a kill, began to circle tighter, round and round so as to
make Christian dizzy. Then, seizing upon a weak moment, he rushed
in like a flood, caught hold of Christian and, with a skill born
of centuries of wrestling with flesh and blood, gave him a brutal
throw to the ground. This knocked the breath from Christian’s
breast and sent his sword skittering just out of reach.
“Aha!” gloated Apollyon, savouring the moment. “No
sword! Now shall I show you what I do to traitors!”
Then Apollyon, seeking to prolong and deepen the sufferings of
death, pressed himself upon Christian to crush out his life and
to smother him with his sulphurous breath.
“Dead man, Graceless,” he fumed hot into his face.
“You are a dead man.”
And so it seemed, for Christian could scarcely find air to breathe.
And what little air he could suck in was so befouled and sulphurous
that it seared his lungs and turned his vision a blurry gray.
Seeing that his situation was beyond hope (as did Jacob in his
trouble), Christian yielded up his earthly life and committed
the keeping of his soul to God. But it was not in God’s
plan to lose such a brave pilgrim so early on in his journey.
Therefore, as Apollyon arrogantly reached for his last fiery
dart, God filled Christian with a new supply of hope and strength.
Instantly Christian’s mind and vision cleared, and in good
hope he reached out his hand, praying that God would guide it
to his sword. Apollyon, already enjoying sure victory, only smirked
a lion-lipped grin for the joy of seeing Christian’s hand
desperately stretching, scratching, searching, and clawing for
his weapon.
“Dead man, sword-seeker,” he hissed hatefully, “nothing
but a dead man.” Then Christian touched the haft of his
sword with the tip of his finger and felt a new thrill of hope
surge through his breast. But, stretch and struggle as he might,
his reach still exceeded his grasp. Apollyon, gloating over Christian’s
futile efforts, sneered triumphantly and then pressed his entire
bone-crushing weight onto Christian’s chest. Hissing and
fuming sulphurous breath into his face he taunted Christian,
saying, “Your Master has left you to die, Graceless. Your
sword lies but half an inch away, and your heavenly Lover leaves
it lie. You are a fool!”
Thus did Apollyon seek to send Christian to a hopeless grave.
But still, with heaven-born faith, Christian continued to flail
about for that precious weapon, so near, and yet, so far.
