February 11, 2010

At first there is no sound. Life is a still, endless wasteland of simpering and lonely nights.

Then along comes a stranger who looks on with sorrow…
They know not, nor do they seek. Theirs is the present, the unknown is unwelcome. How little they love.

It is not with a shake of a self-righteous head that the stranger observes, it is not with a reprimand his heart is filled. It is with a heartbreak and hope only a man in the midst of great love can comprehend.

Then a child cries…..
a long, loud exclamation of want.
Then there is sound, at first
a foreign thought, but now an actuality.

Some do not rejoice.
Some hide their hearts in frivolous, demeaning acts.
Some hide their hearts in fear and wanting.
Some hide their hearts in arrogance and intelligence.
Some hide their hearts in meaning that has no meaning.
Some scream out and struggle against the sound

and all it brings….

the one that all must battle to accept.


the Stranger…who is not so strange anymore…says
I have not come to lead an easy way. Suffering is a tool to bring us close. Rejoice in your suffering, as I rejoice.

Still, some hang their heads and hide their hearts even deeper in the death and decay that clings to this world with a vise-like grip….

But not all…

A band of mighty warriors has formed. A Church Militant. A church with a mission…and they should not be taken lightly. With the Stranger by their side, they are invincible and weak, courageous and timid, bold and meek, joyous and sorrowful. They know the world, they are the world, and it will take their earthly efforts with the grace of the Stranger to forge ahead to a truthful existence.

The Stranger spreads his arms…
Come to me, all who are brokenhearted and I will give you rest.

Aren’t we all brokenhearted?
Why, then, do we wait?


One Response to “Militant”

  1. gukkhser Says:

    dev dev dev! are you going to submit this to the phi theta kappa literary thingyyyyish thing?

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