It has been said that confidence is a plant of slow growth in an aged bosom. This can also be said of its lack. How crippling is the power of uncertainty and fear! It can reduce an otherwise mighty man to an emaciated personality fit for little more than to exist.
Ironically the victim is paralyzed so effectively by his own power which makes him so weak. In this he is practically omnipotent so far as his state is concerned. Nothing can alter this condition but a fiery judgment that comes into every man’s existence sooner or later and either delivers or destroys the wretched soul depending on his inclination and desire.
I see a BOY.
He hungers
for an acknowledgment and appreciation of himself.
He hungers for love –
which only a good father could give –
but finds none.
“See, daddy? See, daddy?” he exclaims,
waving his arms wildly.
His Daddy ignores him.
Always crestfallen, the boy is unable to cease
trying to prove, to please.
No matter the greatness of his efforts and accomplishments;
they are not enough.
His countenance tells
both his effort and his frustration.
I see a SOLDIER.
What an excellent soldier he is!
What a fine sword he possesses!
All his armament, his physique and his skills
are to be both admired and feared
by friend and foe alike.
But what will he do in
the Firestorm that approaches,
nay, that is even here?
As the father,
it recognizes no sword;
it laughs at physique
and scoffs at skill and experience.
I see a PRISONER…
in a cell.
His cell is small.
He starts and is afraid.
He darts from place to place.
He seeks solace
in his cot, his clock, his sink, his toilet,
his food tray, his allowance, his books and even
his bars.
Though he waits for the light from his window,
he prefers the dark.
At once
it comforts and discomforts him.
It hides him from others
but not from himself.
And it hides others from him.
He receives little consolation
from other prisoners,
whether from that they are
or what they are.
Not at all alone
he is very much alone.
He guards his own cell,
keeping a vigilant watch on himself
lest he escape.
The key to his door
is in his cell;
It is rusty;
his fading eye loses sight of it
and fading memory
awareness of it.
What a wonder!
Why won’t he take the key
and release himself?
Ah! He thinks it to be only a locking key!
That which would release him
he rejects and fears.
A message is passed
through his window
in rays.
Will he discover
that a father
awaits to shower
him
with all that his heart could desire
to its innermost depths?
Will he receive the new weapons and power
to prevail, yea, overcome
in the Firestorm?
Will the message get through
or will the guard see it
and prevent it
hiding it from him
telling him it will not do?
I see a GUARD
FORMIDABLE, thorough,
only secondly by training
but firstly by nature.
“You’re a man, not a boy!”
he says.
“You are satisfied and not hungry!”
he says.
“You’re the father, not the son!”
he says.
“You are an invincible soldier;
nothing can prevent you!”
he says.
“You are not afraid!”
he says.
“You are sound in sight,
pre-eminent in memory
and evaluation!”
he says.
“You’re not a prisoner”
he says,
“but free to come and go
possessing many books
cots
sinks
toilets
rooms
not to mention ample time and money”
he says.
“The Firestorm is a myth,
a figment
of a dreaming
idealistic
fanatical
religious
grandstanding
misfitting
zealot,
with more opinion and
only one way,
a narrow way,
a blind way
of seeing…
I think…”
he says.
(Make fast the prisoner there, guard)
“I KNOW”
he says.
He takes out pleasant cloth…
“You’re not alone”
he says.
“See, family,
friends,
associates,
some close.
What more can you
rightfully
ask?
Beware”
he says.
“Be satisfied
with what you have”
he says.
“It is a virtue
to be content
with your lot”
he says.
Persuading, the GUARD
conceals the key
with pleasant cloth,
cloth neither good nor evil of itself
but pleasant,
and secures
the PRISONER
a while longer.
Lethbridge, 1988
Related posts:
Living with loose ends that seem perpetual is one of the difficult facts of life, especially if those ends were not expected to be loose and most of all if those loose ends had at first appeared to have the promise of completion upon which we set our hopes. As we press on toward the mark we gradually begin to learn that those things we counted important, achievable and our destiny were really only elements of a process. With the process complete in any of its stages, we discover firstly a change in ourselves and then the elements we once considered so important are cancelled with our ready consent. The destination is not without but within. When once the work is done within, those outward things we sought fade away, no longer perceived as desirable or important. How many times have I thought I arrived only to discover I was just beginning! That which was is no longer relevant, as a fading flower that falls to the ground. One must come to the sobering truth that all we do is vanity. The greatest works of men upon earth are entirely vain. What's more, as much can be accomplished and\or learned in the most mundane and simple things and activities of our existence as in what we perceive to be higher and more noble works. Who has the measure? The issue is not one of what we do or how well we do it but one of motive and attitude. There is the key of deliverance from Periphery. Periphery, Periphery, Your victims going round, Seeing, smelling, Even tou...
They speak for themselves. Naivete says: "All that men say is true, or at least most of what they say is true." "All their facial expressions tell their true feelings." "Most people in everyday common affairs have no reason to lie or to be deceitful." "People conduct themselves as normal beings always or almost always. One can usually take them at face value." Naivete has never met Discretion - never heard of her. But Naivete has a sister: Pride says: "The friendship of people towards me comes out of their admiration for me." (sometimes true) "People see something special in me even if they can't put a finger on it. If they don't, they ought to." "People respect me because I am something special." "All centers on me...all." "All things said and done toward me to my dislike are offensive, wrong and unjustified." "Don't rebuke me; don't rail on and on. It's only your ignorance and bad attitude. I don't want to hear it." "I have spoken. Let all men fall down and worship." "World, watch the grace, see the grace that issues from my precious lips." "I'm sure glad I'M right." Blindness is the brother of Naivete and Pride. Blindness says: "I see me; I see what I do; I see what I see and what I say; there is nothing else." "I don't see the circumstances, their elements, their noteworthiness. With the help of my sisters, I only believe the flatteries people speak to me, of me." Destruction, the child of Pride and Blindness (a marriage of incest) says:...
Inconsistency and contradiction are facts of life which increase in both stature and clarity as we grow in spiritual maturity. Stature because we are subjected according to our own increasing capacity to withstand these foes and clarity because as we increase, we see more of what has always been there. Is it not ironic that the fool Rejects the very thing that would deliver him From the pain and failure he calls bliss? Water does not always find the lowest level. Is it not ironic that those Who stand in need the most Stand strongest against provision? Water does not always find the lowest level. And those who have less need Have it because they have learned The value of the provision To minimize the need. "To him who has Shall more be given, And to him who has not, Even the little he has Shall be taken from him." Jesus Lethbridge, Oct. 1984