Battlefield

 

“For the word of God is living and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the division of soul and spirit and of joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart.  And there is no creature hidden from His sight but all things are naked and open to the eyes of Him whom we must give account.”  Hebrews 4:12-13 (NKJV)

I am a soldier standing in the field dazed and confused as to the outcome of the battle that played out before me.  Men and woman yelling, spewing their curses to the one for which they attack.  Commanders lead the assault, horsed snort their protest of being pushed in such a futile fight.  Spears and swords sharpened to bring death on the enemy they do not know. 

The One we attack, the One we call our enemy, stands brighter and more glorious than the sun itself on the clearest of days.  The sword in His hand, a fire of glory and power surge from its blade.  We can barely look upon this point of our assault but the commanders still scream their orders to attack.

                Now I stand in tears with many others.  All wondering aimlessly and lost amidst the remnants of a battle that was foolish to pursue.  Our arrogance and pride ripped away, armor tossed aside, cloths shredded, spears and swords shatters.  We should never have fought this battle but foolishness is such a convincing companion.  The cold and nakedness of loss are overwhelming to me in my broken state of defeat. 
                I see the One we attacked, the One we gathered to assault with our biggest and sharpest of weaponry.  He does not gloat over a victory fulfilled or proudly pushing aside the wounded for which the battle left behind.  I stare at this pinnacle of righteousness standing before me.  Tears in His eyes, He wipes the torn and bleeding faces that huddle before him.  His own hands He soils with the dirt we still carry in our grip.  One by one He picks up the wounded and defeated that lye out before Him.  He cleans the wounds and mends the broken.  He gives new garments, clean and white for the shredded threads that no longer cover the naked guilt that we carry.  He kisses each of our heads and calls us His own.  All drop their swords and spears in submission to this One whom they once looked upon as the enemy.  Even those on the verge of death, He breathes life into their lungs and brings them back from the abyss to be His own.  

The sword which he carries becomes a garment of grace, in which he wraps those gathered before Him.  His warmth and peace pour out from the threads of this garment in which He wraps all of His own.  

“The Lord will be a refuge for the oppressed, a refuge in times of trouble.  And those who know Your name will put their trust in You; for You, Lord, have not forsaken those who seek You.”  Psalm 9:9-10 (NKJV)