Weapons Of War
It isn’t harsh criticisms that will create change. My logic won’t awaken the dead or asleep. Neither will my stunned silence.
My uncertainty won’t equip me. My fear won’t make me wiser. And my worry won’t protect me.
“Your salvation requires you to turn back to me and stop your silly efforts to save yourselves. Your strength will come from settling down in complete dependence on me — The very thing you’ve been unwilling to do.”
There must be something I can do. I can hear people recite the opposite of what I believe. I can hear them defend the mentality that I think needs to change.
She said, “Black Lives Matter will change our way of life, our worship of God…. I will not support you if you support that.”
Fire surges through me and I want to her to know my disgust. I am ashamed of her and I want her to feel it. But I say nothing because she’s too far gone and my vocabulary isn’t enough. I let this old woman, who has never supported me anyway, go on her way and I hope she feels dirty. She’s the one who, I think, is beyond hope. So why does that hopelessness stay with me instead of following her?
Another woman told me about the places she goes where people don’t wear masks. Were you near them? I wonder. As near as you are to me now?
“Were you glad,” I asked, “or do you wish they had?”
“Oh, I don’t do the sheep thing.”
Ignorance has a haughty spirit. Wisdom teaches. She wasn’t teaching.
“Sheeple?’ I asked.
“Yeah.”
Sadness slow dances with frustration and I wonder what kind of babies the two would make. Passive aggressive, probably. So I hold my tongue.
I watch my business take hits from exposures and mandates and I feel nothing.
It seems these all come from the same treasure box. Conspiracy Theory fidget spinners, plastic “Me First” rings, and Racial Bias yoyos.
“You’ve said, ‘Nothing doing! We’ll rush off on horseback!’
You’ll rush off, all right! Just not far enough!
You’ve said, ‘We’ll ride off on fast horses!’
Do you think your pursuers ride old nags? Think again: A thousand of you will scatter before one attacker. Before a mere five you’ll all run off. There’ll be nothing left of you—a flagpole on a hill with no flag, a signpost on a roadside with the sign torn off.”
There is nothing I can do because there is no authority they’ll acknowledge. Their logic is drunk.
“But God’s not finished. He’s waiting around to be gracious to you. He’s gathering strength to show mercy to you. God takes the time to do everything right—everything. Those who wait around for him are the lucky ones.
”
The weapons of this war? Faith.
I’ll wait.
