Thursday, October 26, 2017

This Boy- Kevin

This boy was the center of the world to all who knew him.
His laugh was the contagious element that moved around the room like a familiar song.
His humor, never limited to just the appropriate, was expected,timely and well delivered.
His perspective was worldly in spite of his small town roots and confinement.
His loyalty to family was thorough, stoic and unconditional, in contrast to his young age.
His intellect was quick, curious, definitive and waxed most all topics.
His reasoning was often child-like, but made perfect sense.
His understanding of others was acute and profound.
His physical agility knew no bounds and offered no boasts.
His bargaining techniques regarding his chores were that of a seasoned politician.
His disdain for green vegetables often found him in trouble with his mother.
His love of The Beach Boys and The Beetles was curious for a kid in the 80's.
He always peeked, with stealthy consideration, at the gifts under the tree.
His practical jokes were a constant thorn in the side of his very serious older sister.
His sideways smile would combat any disaster or wrong-doing.
His courage, facing cancer, would mark those who witnessed his battle forever.
His presence is missed more than words can convey.
His life is now with the angels and Jesus in a world far away.
My heart misses him so much.  

Soldier in The Army of God

This is a soldier's story, not the modern day soldier that you see on the news or in airports and train stations. This is a soldier, in the army of Believers- God's soldier. Picture the soldier with his breastplate of righteousness, once polished to a bright shine to reflect the goodness he stood for, now dented and scarred from the brutal and relentless beatings he received from his enemy in battle. Imagine his shield of faith once gripped confidently in his powerful hand, now merely splinters hanging loosely and slung over his shoulder, as he is too exhausted to carry it any longer. The shoes of peace that were laced securely around his sure footed feet, are now covered in his own blood and the filth of battle. Imagine this soldier once full of faith and hope, with his belt of truth cinched securely around his strong erect frame, holding all of his armor in place, now sagging about his skeletal body, stained with the sweat and stench of his hard-fought war with the enemy.




Picture his sword of spirit that was held high in battle, striking with great strength and mighty force against the enemy of God, his enemy. The soldier is now too weary to even lift his mighty sword to replace it in the long sheath that hangs empty on his belt of truth. He can only drag the heavy sword behind him, using it to steady himself as he  attempts to walk back from the fierce battle he has fought on the battle field. He has been beaten unmercifully. He is weary, broken, bloody and bruised. He knows he must stand and walk, to get back to his Father. He knows where to find help and rest and healing. He knows that his very life now depends on finding his way back to his God. He just can't seem to stand long enough to walk, to search out his God, his only hope. He must now carry the helmet of his salvation, because his head is hung so low in exhaustion, grief and defeat, that he is unable to lift it to see where he is going. He feels lost. He feels sick. He feels afraid. He feels alone. He fears he may never find his Father, his God, his only refuge from the battle he has fought and still fights. His enemy relentlessly mocks and kicks the soldier. This formidable enemy knows that the soldier is too weak to fight back. This soldier knows that the war continues, but he is too weak to fight any longer.  This once strong soldier is now so weak and broken that he is forced to lay down, he can no longer walk or stand. He closes his eyes and imagines himself on the steps at the foot of God's mighty throne, the mercy seat itself. The soldier is too ashamed to cry, or plead, or speak. He can only lay there in a pool of his own blood and waste. He waits for God to find him, to pick him up and hold him against His chest, like the gravely injured child that he is. The soldier longs to hear God speak into his ear words of healing and peace and mercy. The dying soldier is too broken to even pray. He imagines that he is in the arms of God, allowing God to love him, to accept him, to forgive him. He needs his God to restore him for the next battle, to protect him, to give him rest. He wonders how many more battles he must fight. He is bone weary. He is tired of the sustained pain of battle. He is sick with grief for all he has lost. The soldier needs to breathe in the smell of God, the smell of cleansing rain. God is healing. God is mercy. God is hope. God is rest. God is peace. God is home. The soldier waits for God - his God, his Salvation, his Father. The soldier knows that he will be with his God. God is all this soldier really needs. The soldier waits, he believes.