get up, soldier

the rat-a-tat-tats
they come
far off cries echo through the night
and the only lights left
come from twinkling stars
high above their heads

another gunshot rings out
the stench of the enemy advances
and three choices hang in the bitter, black air:

the first is to run
to retreat
to cower in the overwhelming fear that threatens to swallow
their souls

the second, to charge
full-speed ahead toward the battlefield
with reckless abandonment for orders
to believe in one's own strength
and might
and power

so often have i been that soldier.

how the tears have fallen
as i thrash and slash my way through the mines and the mud
only to realize that i'm falling
that my best efforts come from weak and unsteady hands
only to realize that i, in fact, haven't even strapped on my armor tightly
if at all
that the Commander was right all along

he staggers and collapses
his opponent takes aim
more is injured than his pride
what use, he groans
this is not the tell-all
and he will obey the next time
but
for now he cannot see
[nor does he want to]
am i giving up? he wonders

while the enemy continues to pry open wounds, to inflict the poison deeper
he turns
writhing in pain
and searches desperately for that familiar face behind him
their eyes meet
one set filled with regret and shame
the other with loving rebuke and strength
he knows what's coming
or, at least, he thinks he does
and as the Commander shields the blows and carries him to safety
as his suffering comes to a temporary halt
he prepares his mind for what is next.

but before any words are spoken,
the soldier looks at his team
they tell him stories of His bravery, His faithful leadership, His care
and the soldier turns again to those eyes

"Get up, soldier."

that was all.

no harshness
no sigh
only gentleness
and a call to obey--
to love to obey

"There is one more way. And I will show you."


H