It sometimes seems surreal,
This feeling that somehow I woke up in the middle of a war zone,
Like a dream, or a nightmare,
That wakes you, sweating.
Shards of broken dreams
Limbs scattered everywhere
Lives blasted to pieces
By the Enemy
The Deceiver, The father of lies
Giving me a choice,
I could stay down here in my comfortable foxhole,
Decorate it in welcoming colors,
Stay with people just like me, and attempt to ignore the battle outside,
Or I could make the hard choice,
The called choice
And remember that God’s people are called to be on the move
Against the very gates of hell.
Crawl out of my comfort zone
Pick my way slowly through the minefield,
And tell the amazing, wonderful,
Reconciling Story of the Prince of Peace
The same One who will come riding a white horse
This time as a king- not as a sacrifice to bring me back to my Father God as He did before
But to claim His inheritance and His kingdom.
Followed by the armies of heaven,
My comrades in arms.
That’s why- when I wake sweating,
I remember that we are not fighting against flesh and blood
But the battle is still very real
And the ending is known
A Marriage Feast
A city, more beautiful that I can imagine
And we begin, once again in a Garden
In the City of God
This time forever
Not a dream, but more real than reality itself.
The Battle Cry of my heart.