The Hero...

(During worship one sunday morning a couple weeks ago God gave me this scene that has run over and over in my mind for days now...)

The wounds were deep and gushing blood. Agony was beginning to blind the strength of my sight; in my weakness the sword slipped from my sweaty palms. I fell to my knees on the trampled battlefield, weeping in anguish and despair. I was giving up.

The enemy was nearly upon me. I could feel his hot breath on my neck, taste the sulfuric aroma of his deathly presence. Surrounding me the battle was raging, the sound of its violence, deafening. Every warrior was hotly engaged and the pain-riddled wails of the dying pierced my spirit with every cry. It heightened my own rising fears, as the enemy drew closer.

I refused to look behind, but closed my eyes as a terrible pressure filled my shaking chest. It was only a matter of seconds.

Then a voice screamed my name. I don't know how I could even hear it through all the noise, yet I did. My eyes flew open. I knew Who it was. Hope raced through my heart. And I saw Him, bursting out of raging mass of warriors He came. There was no mistaking the white horse or the rider who sat in the saddle. I had not even cried out for rescue, yet He was still coming, at breakneck speed across the battlefield.

The hope that surged through me also heightened the awareness of the pain that held my body in a vice-like grip. I struggled to reach for my sword once more. Behind me the breath of the enemy was growing hotter.

I begin weeping bitterly, for I was sure I would die before the horse and Rider would reach me. I sank back once more, closing my eyes against what I thought was final reality. I had never felt so alone in my life, so rejected, even as the horse's galloping hooves shook the earth under me.

I was nearly sick with the putrid stench of death. It was sinking in on every side, wrapping me in its cloak. Cold, hard, bitter fingers brushed me back. Then the voice shouted me name again, and it was so surprisingly near my eyes opened once more, even as a rush of wind blew over my head. I heard a strangled growl and immediately the coldness receded, the hard touch disappeared and the stench was gone. I still did not look behind me as only one thing filled my vision.

The horse and Rider standing above me. His eyes were blazing from the heat rage of battle. They locked with mine and immediately softened into tender pools of mercy. I had heard the cry of His heart when He screamed my name, I knew His only thought at the moment was me. The intensity of it made me weep, yet the urgency of the hour cause His first words, to neither calm my tears nor softened my fears.

"Grab Your sword," He said, reaching one hand down to me.

I didn't know if I had enough strength to respond, yet one hand managed to grip the weapon's hilt buried in the dirt, and the other grasped His fingers. At the touch, His hand tightened around mine. At His touch, within seconds, my body filled with warmth, spilling out through my hand and arm, straight to my heart. I didn't have to look to know my wounds were healing within themselves. I was still covered in blood.

He pulled me into the saddle behind Him, with little effort. One of my arm slipped around Him, as I buried my wet face into His back, inhaling the familiar scent of His presence. I was safe, secure, strong once more...

"Take me away from here," I whispered.

There was a pause before He answered," It is not time yet," he replied," We going back into the battle."

My heart skipped a beat, fear pricking my mind once again. I thought of all the possible dangers going back into the battle would bring. I didn't want to fight anymore, I just wanted rest and peace.

"I can't," I confessed, holding tighter to Him. I wanted to be with Him, for always, like He promised. Yet, even here with Him now, the threat of battle made it seem as though He could be taken from me. The thought was frightening. Glancing up I saw the battle was moving away from us. We could easily turn back, escape, return to the battle on another day...we could return to His fortress where there was safety and peace.

Reading my thoughts He spoke," Do not fear, I am with You," He squeezed my hand holding Him," Stay with me."

He was asking, not telling me too. I realized then that I could easily slip off the horse, and now healed of my wounds, find my way back the fortress. But to do that, I would have to do it alone. No matter what I decided He was returning to the battle. I would lose something if I left Him now. I would lose everything...

"I will go where You go," I said softly in His ear, even though my voice shook.

To be without Him in battle or out of battle was too great a loss. He wanted me with Him, and realizing this I could never jump off the white horse.

I felt a deep chuckle ripple through His chest at my words. At the sound my fears melted.

"Make your sword ready," he said, laughter subsiding.

Only a slight tremble ran through my body as I raised the sword a little higher, gripping it tightly.

The dark horizon was blacker than it had been before, the battle was no better, but staring over His shoulder into the horror, I felt peace and rest wash over me. His presence was enough. I didn't have to be in a fortress to be secure. His touch was enough. His warmth.

The horse then lunged forward, carrying us both back into that darkness.

Lovely...

Absolute favorite quoted scene from the movie Nickolas Nickleby (a Dickens tale)...

Nickolas: My life collapsed like a house of sticks the day my father died. I clung to my mother and sister, then Smike and Noggs...hoping, waiting, for I knew not what. I knew not what until that day, when I opened my eyes and the darkness was replaced with the sight of your face. It was the island towards which I had been sailing, unguided, my whole life, the dream my father had promised me before I could even imagine its existence. I have been happy for times, little times, since he died...but never at peace. Not until I looked at your face...and saw the universe in order behind it.

Madeline: Nickolas...I feel you know what it’s like to be without happiness. But do you know what it’s like to be afraid of it? To see the world as so conniving, you cannot take pleasure in the appearance of something good...because you suspect...it is only a painted drop behind which other troubles lie. That has been my life. Every good thing has been a trick. Until you. Yet I am afraid to take your hand. What if you cannot or will not save me? I can bear to maltreated by the greedy or the weak, but to be let down by an angel...

Nickolas: I am not an angel. I live as far from that lofty perch as any man. My temper alone, my impatience...well, perhaps I should not list all my faults in case I am too persuasive. You are the one who is so admirably able and strong.

Madeline: I am tired of being strong.

Nickolas: As am I. Weakness is tiring, but strength is exhausting. You see, I cannot save you...for I need saving too.

Madeline: What are you proposing?

Nickolas: Only this. That we save ourselves together.

(Nickolas leans and kisses Madeline)

Madeline: Nickolas, please. Think of the others. People might see.

Nickolas: I don’t care.

Some thoughts of the seasons...

There and Back Again (something I wrote for English class)


I love watching the seasons change. All four are special in their own ways. Each one has different meanings, different feelings, and different memories. Winter is my favorite, but spring and autumn to me are the most significant. I believe it is because of the pronounced change that occurs with each, and how they are directly related to winter, only in opposite ways. One is going into winter; the other is leaving it. Spring is the birth of new life. Babies are born, flowers burst into bloom and the grass explodes into the most brilliant green. The cold of winter disappears, replaced by the most healing warmth. The sharpness of grays and pale blues fades in the vibrancy of pinks, and purples, and yellows, and reds. A sense of newness and expectancy lies in the gentle whisper of the warm springs rains and the clear sunshiny days. The end of school is approaching, and the beginning of summer’s bliss is within sight. No longer is everyone bogged down by the belief that winter might never end. Beauty is beckoning and bringing hope. And if you stand still, sometimes you can hear music singing through the air.
Autumn is a time of dying, which is beautiful in its own way, since it carries on the circle of life, but often times sad and dreamy. Trees lose their leaves, gardens are harvested of their produce, and the sky’s radiant blue begins to fade. The warmth of summer fades as well, replaced by an aching chilliness. The colors change to realistic hues of browns and greens and maroons. Longing lingers in the atmosphere, begging for mystery, but demanding that you keep to the rules. School begins, with all its tedious schedules and rigid unyielding demands. People bustle about, frantic to undue the laziness of their guilty summers and pursue fresh visions with renewed enthusiasm. Truth, in all its practical reality, demands that watch your step and watch the road. The voices of a hundred reasons crowd your mind with confusion.
Spring lifts the veil of snow, like a bride’s lacy mantle, revealing the shining glory of brand new splendor. Death has been nurturing a seed; hiding its growth until the proper time. Once revealed, the beauty is three times more than what could have been imagined. Young love is discovered. The soft kiss of wonder touches the earth with its unending discovery. Autumn gently buries its beloved. It scatters the petals of its wilting blossoms; yielding its fruits, so that others may live. Life peels back its outer shell, revealing its heart, even as the leaves fade to dust, and are carried away by the cool winds of the north. Gratefulness is shown, in the touch of a hand, the kind tone of a word; the quiet tears of an aging saint.
Spring, even in its all its majesty, knows that autumn will eventually come around. It always does. Spring embraces its youthful exuberance, but willingly lets go into the wise arms of the coming seasons. Autumn, in all its melancholy sorrow, clings to
the hope of spring’s new beginnings, even as it painfully surrenders to the hard coldness of winter’s ultimate death. The promise has never failed, nor will it ever. Spring will always take you there and back again....and autumn will too.

The Mountain...a short story

Once there was a village, a quite small village compared to most, and it sat at the bottom of a great mountain. In this village lived many children, of all ages, who had lived their entire lives in this village and were delighted to always live here. Every day they danced through the gardens, played with their sheep and sang songs together in the village square.Far above them, at the top of the mountain, hidden by towering trees, was a castle and in this castle the King lived. Every morning he sent one of his servants down the long path to village, laden with gifts and food to give to these children and invite them to visit him. The gifts and food they received with joy, but in response to His invitation they only smiled and told the servant they were having too much fun…perhaps some other day. This grieved the King for he very much wanted to spend time with the children.At the edge of the village lived a young boy named Samuel, who lived by himself in a small hut just along the beginning of the path that led up the mountain to the king's castle. Every morning when the servant passed on his way to the village, Samuel would run out to meet him, eager to see what the servant had brought. One morning the servant was late and Samuel sat for almost an hour at the entrance to his door waiting to see the servant's familiar shuffling form appear far down the path near the forest. As he began to think the servant wasn't coming at all, he saw a man on a white horse ride out from the forest. It wasn't the servant, but a youth dressed in a fine blue cloak, yet he looked strangely familiar. Jumping to his feet, Samuel watched the rider. The young man was also watching Samuel and he stopped his horse just at Samuel's door where the boy stood."Who are you?" Samuel asked boldly, he was always the curious one.The young man smiled," You will only know who I am if you first meet my father."Samuel frowned at this strange answer." Who's your father?"The young man didn't respond but pulled something out of his pocket. "This is for you," he said, leaning down towards Samuel.Samuel eagerly held out his hand and laughed in delight when a golden chain fell into his hands. A large key swung from the end.Samuel gazed up at the young man curiously.The young man shook his head," Do not ask me why, just listen to my words. Follow this path up the mountain and you will find the door that this key opens. Go through it and you will find what you seek."With those words the young man rode off, leaving Samuel staring in surprise with the golden chain in his hands.All day Samuel sat on his doorstep staring at the strange gift the young man had left him.You will find what you seek. How did the rider know what he sought?No one ever had gone up the mountain. The children of the village would mock him if he did, warning him to not pursue the danger of the unknown, but he could not keep from wanting to find the door this key opened. What if it's a treasure? he thought.But what if it is a trap to kidnap you? he heard a small voice whisper in his head. After much thought his first thought finally won out; what if it was a treasure?So the next morning he set out early, before anyone in the village was awake and made his way down the path. The forest was big and scary. Not dark and evil, but tall and powerful. The trees looked like they had lived hundreds and hundreds of years. Samuel timidly followed the path, jumping when he heard noises to his left and right, only to realize they were deer waking up after a long night's sleep. Several times he fought the urge to go back to the village, but every time his driving curiosity kept him going uphill, up the mountain.He was growing very tired and thirsty when around mid-day he left the forest behind and came into a clearing. Samuel stood in shock and surprise at what he saw. A huge, beautiful castle stood before him, its white walls gleaming in the sun, one tower taller than the rest. A great wooden door stood at the center of the wall surrounding the castle. In awe, Samuel slowly walked forward until he stood in front of door. There was no handle or even bell to ring. "Hello!" he shouted. No one answered. It was then he remembered the key around his neck, and taking it off he searched for a key hole. It took some time, but he finally found a small hole near the center of the door and to his surprise the key slipped easily in. He turned it and a blinding light knocked him off his feet, jerking the key out of his hands. He screamed in panic, but as the light faded he saw the door had vanished and the inside of the castle was visible. Cautiously standing up he stepped forward. The door had opened into a hall that glowed with a pale blue light. Shields and swords hung from the walls. He glanced back and forth, enchanted as any little boy would be. Shyly he reached out and touched the edge of a shield. His giggle of delight echoed down the hall. He would have liked to have stayed in that room forever. But soon the hall ended and he faced yet another door, with a golden door handle. What would this one do?Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes he grabbed the handle and turned it. No flash of light…nothing. Relieved, he slowly pulled it open and peeked in. Only white filled the room beyond him, not as in white light, but as in a thick white mist, like early morning fog along a river bank. A sweet fragrance filled Samuel's nose, drawing him forward into the room, even though he was suddenly afraid to move. The door shut softly behind him and he was hidden inside the thick white curtain. Samuel's fears and uncertainties fell off him with every minute that passed as he stood in this white cloud. Then, like a giant hand wiping away the dust on a mirror, the cloud drifted away. Samuel found himself in a beautiful garden, surrounded with fruit trees, in full spring bloom, and singing birds dancing through the branches. A sparkling fountain sat in the center, directly in front of him. Reminded of his thirst, which he had forgotten in discovery of the castle, he rushed forward and knelt to drink. The water was cool and refreshing, unlike any he had drank before, and quenched his thirst after only one sip. Sitting up he glanced around, marveling at the beauty of the garden, rivaling any he had ever seen. The brilliant colors were almost blinding.A movement towards his left made him start and he spun around. A man stood in the far corner near another door, which led to the tall tower. He was dressed in pale blue, a sliver buckle strapped around his waist and sliver boots on his feet. He beckoned Samuel, his golden beard glinting in the sun.Drawn, with unspeakable curiosity, more so than ever before, Samuel began walking towards him. As he drew closer he saw that a thin sliver crown adorned the man's head. He gasped, was this the king?"Hello Samuel," he greeted, warmly.Samuel's mouth fell open."How do you know my name?""I know all the children's names," the man replied.Samuel stuttered," Are-are you the k-king?"The man gave him an odd smile."Who do you think I am?"Samuel, not knowing why, giggled and the giggles turned into guffaws and from guffaws into an uproar of laughter. The king joined him, bent over in mirth, until both were quite out of breath.Still chuckling, Samuel did not hesitate when the king held out his hand and said, all trace of laughter gone," Follow me."Taking his hand, Samuel let him lead him towards the edge of the garden where the second door was. They stepped through and Samuel found himself in a library with big bay windows and floor to ceiling shelves of books. Samuel let go of the king's hand and stood staring in wonder. He loved books, but had only read three in his entire life."Is all this yours?" he asked."It's yours too," said the king, answering and evading the question all at once.Samuel spun around," It is?""Of course, this castle was made for you, all its treasures are yours, but most of all I am here for you to know, just as much as I already know you."Samuel frowned, not understanding.""How can you know me, if I've never met you?"The king's eyes twinkled mysteriously and he turned to one of the windows and gaze out. Samuel, the wonder of the library, gardens and even the key fading, followed the king, curiosity melting in burning desire. What was it about this king that made him feel loved and frightened all at once?Standing next to the king he sucked in his breath as he saw the view from the window.The village far below was visible, more than visible, startling clear as if it was only inches away from the window. Every child, house and garden was so close you could almost touch them."How…" Samuel glanced up at the king's face, but paused when he saw silent tears trickling down the king's bronze cheeks.Respectfully he dropped his eyes, feeling awkward seeing this grown man cry."Every day I watch them, Samuel, I watch you. Every day I see the servant arrive, but they refuse my invitation…until now."Despite his tears he smiled down at Samuel. "Come let me show you the castle."The rest of the afternoon, the king and Samuel explored the castle, filling Samuel with even more awestruck wonder. But even more than the treasures of the castle, Samuel loved talking to the king, telling him everything about himself, his fears, his joys, sorrows and his dreams. The afternoon seemed to stretch on for years and years and Samuel never wanted it to end. This was what he was made for, to be with this king.Evening came and they found themselves in the garden once more, beside the fountain.The king had on arm around Samuel and the other balancing a rock in his hand. They were talking in low voices. Samuel glanced up as the great door he had first entered suddenly opened and to his surprise the white horse and rider rode in and dismounted. The king rose to greet the young man and then leading him back to Samuel he said," It is time for you to go, Samuel."Samuel lowered his head, fighting back tears. The king knelt taking his hand and lifting his chin gently with his other, he gazed into his eyes lovingly."You can come back whenever want, but now you must go to the village and tell the others so they too can know me."Samuel nodded and threw his arms around the king, hugging him fiercely. Returning his hug until Samuel pulled away, the king rose and turned to the young man."Joshua will take you home."Samuel stepped forward taking the hand Joshua held out to him. Tears gone as he realized, with infinite delight he would ride the white horse, Samuel eagerly let Joshua pick him up and place him on the horse. Mounting behind him, Joshua laughed and kicked the horse into a gallop, dashing through the great door, still open.Samuel swung his head around once, to see the king waving goodbye, a wide smile across his face. Then they were in the forest and the door close behind them."Are you one of his servants?" Samuel asked, still wondering who Joshua was."No I'm his son," came the reply.Suddenly, Samuel giggled, his laughter echoing as they galloped down the mountain.