It was the way the enemy moved. The way they walked. Talked. Looked. Breathed. Smelled. Smiled.
It was the way the enemy pulled you in, like a seductive woman, teasing you with a temptation only the very strong could resist.
It was the way the enemy pulled the trigger, destroying a soul, that only deserved death, but had been chosen for life.
I watched them die, every day on the battlefield. I watched them die together. I watched them die alone. It was always the same. The same lies they believed. The same stories they told, over and over again. The same defenselessly way they surrendered. Every time nothing changed.
Why? How could this weak enemy have such victory, over people who knew the truth? What possessed some one to embrace darkness over light? Where was the love that had been written on their hearts at birth? Why would they forsake it all, and except so much less?
I cringed every time I saw them go to the front lines. I knew only half would return. A broken and hopeless half. Despair and anguish would weaken them for days, until resolve would grip their hearts, and they would run to the front lines once more. Still fewer would return whole.
It was hard not to scream at them for their blindness. It was painful to remain silent. To remain faceless and nameless among a company of people who should know their own names...the names their king had named them long ago
But I have been where they have been. I know nothing I say will save them.
Only one Voice saves them.
I heard that Voice, it was the only thing that pulled from the enemy's dark and lovely arms. I know what it's like to be saved, what it is like to resist the enemy. I have done it, and it is possible.
I've watched the enemy crumple to dust with their own lies embedded like bullets inside their chests. And I have watched their strongholds go up in flames from one word I spoke that came from the King.
It has never been a question that the enemy can be defeated, the question is how long will we let them think they can't? What price are we willing to pay, to follow the battle plan? Why do we always think we can defeat them with ardor and passion, and forget the wisdom and discipline of our leaders?
I was with the King today, and his heart was breaking for those who are lost. I asked him why he lets them fight, if he knows they will only surrender to the enemy.
He looked at me, with those eyes that burn away all fear and said through tears," Because I know I will get them back."
"But they are hurting," I whispered in anguish.
"I have to give them the choice," he said," if I didn't they could never love me."
I knew it was true. I had made that choice once, more than once, many times over. I knew what it was like to be loved even in darkness by this king. I knew what it was like to discover what I was made for. To love this king...and him alone, forever.
I tried to love other things. Sometimes I thought I'd reached it, that pinnacle of fulfilled desire and longing...always I had crashed and burned, except in loving him. Love with him, only ever ended without an ending....it was eternal.
Fighting for him now was loving him. Loving these people, who turned their backs every day on him was not easy, but because I loved them, and I loved what he loved, my heart broke for their brokenness.
When I trudged with the faithful through the valleys, on hot days, when water was scarce and words were few, I remembered he loved me.
When I cleaned my weapons and blistered my feet from shoes too big for me to wear, I remembered he loved me.
When I endured sleepless nights of watchful anxiety over the enemy's near presence, I remembered he loved me.
When I held a dying child in my bruised arms, I remembered he loved me.
When I forgot, and people disappeared, I remembered he loved me.
When I stumbled myself into the enemy's camp and was often captured, I remembered he loved me.
He would always rescue. He would always forgive. He would never give up.
So when the enemy came, with their beautiful song, their enticing eyes, with their graceful movement and their unrelenting pleasure, I remembered only one thing...He would love me forever.
The battles would one day end. Death would end. The lies would end. Blood would no longer flow, but until then, we were commanded to resist, to arm ourselves, to fight with the weapons of the king.
Whether I ran to the front lines, or watched others go themselves, I was to always remember one thing...he loved me.
He loved them all.
The enemy could never love...and that was why they were already defeated. That was why they tried every thing they could to grab us with false love. It was all they had to offer.
It would never endure.
These people, these soldiers, these children, these chosen ones...they would fall, they would rise, they would fall again, but it was already written....they had been born for life, and nothing can keep back the love of a king.
And I remembered...he loved me. That was why I had been born. That was why we all lived and why we would never taste death. Ever.
