Friday, October 24, 2008

The warmth radiating from flickering, strangely shaped lights
Fills the room as we gather.
Nothing else is important, nothing else matters

That familiar crisp sound as we open the pages
Hold hands and pray
And feel the spirit

The night drifts on,
and the rough coals languished long after midnight
but we are somewhere else

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

Desire for God

I used to think that life was the pursuit of everything you wanted, a scavenger hunt for worldly treasure. All my dreams and hopes were of riches and luxury, of the pride I would have to look my friends in the eyes and say "look what I have now." What I didn't realize was that the world would never empty itself into my pocket, that I would never be fulfilled, and would be just one of the many lost souls on an endless, futile journey to nowhere.

I saw though that there was something I wanted, something I couldn't describe or find. There was a reason I couldn't describe it or name it- it wasn't of this world. I had the desire to know, to love, to be one with my creator.

The Lord blessed us when he came to Earth, when he brought the New Covenant. There is something in a man that changes when he is filled with the spirit- his soul BECOMES. It is our purpose in life to serve, to unite with, and become like the Lord. We are pilgrims, all of us, in a place we don't belong.

While our earthly bodies thrive in this physical world, our spirits strive for home.

The Greatest Calm

I'll never forget those moments. Lying still, measuring my breaths, body pressed into the muddy, watery, rising earth. The raindrops splash into the dark green foliage, the movement of so many thousands of leaves make it difficult to focus, so my mind wanders. My eyes lose focus, I hear the plopping drizzle and rush of rain falling in the tree covered creek just 10 yards away, but I am still aware- a warrior, one with his environment.

I sense them, rather than hear or see them. That slight change in the rhythm of things, that new note in the harmonic song of the storm. I feel the cold stock of my weapon against my cheek, notice the peeling tape around the grip- orbs of moisture rolling into the openings. My alertness is sudden, and my entire universe becomes that battleground, that target, and time stands still.

They can't see the outline of my camouflaged body, nearly submerged in the pooling rainwater. They can't hear me breathing over the sound of a thousand leaves plucked by droplets, the splash of their own boots in the knee deep water further masking my presence. Their clumsiness echoes loudly in my mind, interrupting my prayers...but I am not afraid of them. I am a predator, they are my prey.

The fight is not what mattered- it was not a fight, it was a "victory." I sent men to somewhere that no one really understands. It was done in a few moments, not a significant act in the violent drama of the war. I stayed there for a long time though, laying in the water, letting existence pour over me.

I was at peace, the sound was too beautiful, the trees faded into nothingness as fog enguled them. I knew that it was no Eden, it was war and I was a soldier- but God wouldn't let me ignore his creation. Instead of death I felt the cool water soothing my dry skin, instead of gunshots I heard the symphony of nature, of a rainstorm.

History would say that the day was mine, my country's, because I lived. But only God knows what happened, only God could see my heart, and the day was His. When I think of those times, and that time, I don't remember a war. I remember walking with my Lord in the lands he created, I remember being blessed with hope, with love, and with life.