This morning I count myself among the countless human beings that awake in ashes day-after-day-after-day, and continue in their unseen warzone.
They awake to find themselves seemingly drafted and re-drafted day-after-day-after-day in some internal warzone that is well-grounded in external circumstances – and to some extent in the actions of other people.
People watch from afar, yet only a few are able to bring us water like “good old grinnin’, gruntin’ Gunga Din…”
Not that they wouldn’t bring us water but for all sorts of reasons, they cannot even locate us. For only the few understand the terrain and the battle locations.
At points even we ourselves become lost in the neural pathways of landmines, shrapnel, dropped leaflets from on high, heavy artillery, enemy trails, fortified cities and grand tours of the ruins.
No war is greater than one that is fought only to capture the possibility of perpetually waging the same battle for things so lost, so destroyed, so irreplaceable – that to win seems to simply survive the moments – simply extending the possibility of touring and taking up residence within this apocalypse.
I would have despaired had I not believed that I would see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.
Wait for and confidently expect the Lord;
Be strong and let your heart take courage;
Yes, wait for and confidently expect the Lord.
~Psalm 27:13-14
Amplified Bible
Neural pathways drenched, my mind swims in thoughts of fear, dread, defeats and impending battles of despair. It is only mid-September and the dead of winter with its battles-of-bulging-battles are already seen on my horizon.
And with this, today, I reach for my coffee…
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