This is a story of my life lately. think of it somewhat as the movie Sucker Punch there's my normal everyday life and there's what's been going on mentally and spiritually. pretty much every follower of God will be able to relate to this.
“Lost in a windswept land in a world of shifting sands a fragile flower stands apart.” The sky is hazy. Thunder pounds. Rain slices in patterns and swirls on the swordsman’s armor. His arms sag. Wearily the sword of shimmering jade begins to fall. He coughs as rain, tears and blood mingle in the mud at his feet. Each day the poor warrior rises. Dragons, demons, fiends, minotaurs, cyclopses the battle with evil is never-ending. He has never won a battle on his own. Joints ache as muscles and tendons tear. Blood cakes more his own than his foes. He stands shaking crying till his knees buckle and he slams knee plates and palms covered in gauntlets to the ground. The armor clangs as fluids splatter. As his helmet falls open he sees his dim reflection in the puddle below and begins to shake violently from the hurt in his heart. He was told years ago there were no zombies. He was lied to. Each day feels like another war to fight. He fights not for honor, power, fame, money or any trite fleeting thing. He fights for those who sometimes can’t fight or don’t know there’s a war raging. He fights for family and friends. Days are a blur and skirmishes are often more like tragedies. Words are muttered between tear drops as he trembles. He gets back to his knees and slowly raises his head. His armor creaks a bit as the howling wind blasts around him and through him over and over. He reaches for his sword and once more his fingers are filled with popping knuckles. His biceps and triceps groan for release and hope they will endure no more pain. Wham! The wind assails him again, his fingers miss his sword. The jade blade sparkles almost mocking and daring him as he braves the buffeting wind once more. On the wind he begins to hear a sinister voice. Failure, disappointment, no value, unloved, unattractive, unworthy, rejected, talk to yourself in a corner. No one cares, don’t matter, don’t deserve to live, stupid, immature are just a few of the words said to him. He misses the sword a second time. He wipes the tears, rain and caked blood from his face. His vision is blurry. He starts to mutter again his voice almost lost in the wind. He raises his voice louder and louder in direct opposition to the forces assaulting him. Lightening crackles striking all around him. For perhaps the first time in so many days he sees. He yells as off in the distance is a pristine gleaming tower on the biggest rock in all of creation. His jade sword though inches away begins to quiver and then rise. The wind seems to abate as if shocked by what he says and the movement of his sword. As this happens his words are finally audible. “Take me back to the Rock that is higher than I. Take me to the well that will never run dry, Take me Take me Lord.” As the sword hovers in the air he grabs it from his knees never taking his eyes off the Rock of Christ Jesus. A cheer erupts somewhere in the distance. His knees and back crack as he starts to rise. He pops his neck from side to side. Delicately he places his sword in its scabbard as jade green energy pulsates and cascades over his entire body. He looks at the rain and notices for the very first time that it’s not rain at all but lambs blood. A phrase runs thru his mind. “The blood on my hands is what washes me clean.” He realizes he’s been cleansed by the blood of his Savior and is wielding the full armor of God. He fixes the shield firmly on his back bowing his head he says: “thank you Lord for loving me and saving me and forgiving me. Thank you for showing me who I am in you. Give me your peace that passes all understanding.” He jumps descends and yells “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me!” He breaks into a run and all manner of obstacles began to come upon him. Sometimes he falls but the more he does the more he gets up. Is it stupidity or courage that keeps him going? No it is an unbridled passion for a relationship with the King of Kings who would rather die for him than live without him. As the swordsman continues his trek he discovers he is not alone. He encounters many in stages of prayer, getting up, falling down as he passes them he stretches out his sword points to the Rock, the cross and the empty tomb. When those around him fall his shield flies to his arm fueled by God’s love and compassion. He offers help, prayer and defense. With a gentle voice he speaks “Our God is too big to fail. How great is the love of our Savior.” He longs simply for the day to hear his Savior simply say “Well done my good and faithful servant.”
For the reader the song references may have been lost on you. At the beginning the story starts with a line from Desert Rose by White Heart which was the inspiration for the whole story. the second song when the warrior speaks into the wind are words from Back to the Rock by Petra. When the Warrior speaks to the fallen Christian he is quoting Too Big to Fail by Petra and How Great is the Love by Meredith Andrews The final quote about the Lamb's blood being the blood on my hands is what washes me clean is from Because you are by Point of Grace.
Song references
Song references
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