The following is a short story. Most of the characters depicted are not meant to represent any specific people. They are conglomerates, collages of people and ideas in my mind. Also, this is not a direct analogy of schooling. It is an expression of how I see parenting. Thanks for reading!
Life is a battle, every day. The world is a direct assault on the God-focused life.
Imagine a soldier. I've been entrusted with a most precious treasure. Picture a smokey, chilly battlefield. There are trees and bushes and people, but they aren't decipherable from one another, just darker shadows in the grey atmosphere. A bunker is dug into the ground. A mound of rich brown soil, the only defense against the war. I am crouched low, hands on the stock and trigger of my rifle. Behind me, the precious treasure, sits open to the air, totally vulnerable. It's splendor in dramatic contrast to the mud and tattered leaves of shot-up bushes. Somehow, though, the treasure's beauty sparkles on this dark, smoldering field.
As I scan the perimeter, another soldier, of the same company runs and jumps into my hole. The 2nd soldier is the same age; uniform identical in color and wear. Panting, there are words exchanged. This 2nd soldier panicked; didn't know there were other soldiers so close by. So instead of staying the battle in the bunker, she covered the treasure assigned to her with dirt and ran off in search of help. She didn't know how to use her gun and it was just too heavy. As she was running desperately for any cover, she watched as the enemy violently seized her treasure. "It was so beautiful. I didn't realize..." she moaned between sobs. There really was no comfort I could offer. I felt so sad and I hugged her.
Soon the 2nd soldier made her way onward. Maybe she could make it to headquarters before nightfall. I heard crying as she left.
Stillness, for a moment. Suddenly, I see a glimmer through the haze. It's like a flash, then gone, then flash again. Someone is signaling. She is talking in a code very familiar to me. I smile. Digging into my thigh pocket, I retrieve my mirror and reflect a faint light back in her direction. I know she smiles too.
The battle rages on. Fighting is intense, but I remain in my earthen dugout. Although I was afraid and so, so tired, I could not bare the thought of the enemy stealing my precious treasure. It was my job, my purpose, to guard it. My heart is here. There is no where else I can imagine being.
At a momentary lapse in firefight, a 3rd soldier tumbles into my pit. At first she is completely awestruck at the mere sight of a treasure. "Oh, it's been so long!", she says in a husky whisper. "I haven't protected a treasure in so many years. The general relived me and took my treasure along to headquarters. I have been unsure of my purpose ever since". Almost breathless, she turns to lay and rest. Her uniform slightly resembling my own, but it's newer. Apparently she acquired it at headquarters before she came back to the front.
Exhausted from running all over the battleground in search of a new treasure, her eyes are distant. A new treasure is illusive, possibly nonexistent. Either they are heavily guarded by an assigned soldier or the treasure has been taken to headquarters. Of course, there are the treasures stolen by the Enemy, but they seemed gone, forever lost.
I was glad for the company. We talked when we could. "How can I help?", she inquired. "Not sure", I said. "Got any food?". The sun descended toward the horizon and it's brightness seared our eyes.
Before we knew it, dusk was upon us. It was harder to see the enemy now. The 3rd soldier tried to help guard my treasure. She sat really close to it, almost hugging it and put some dead branches around to conceal it's beauty. She was hoping desperately to provide enough shelter that the enemy would just pass us by. Impossible. The enemy was relentless and craftier than us. After what seemed like a long time, she decided to move on from my pit. Her heart was, again, in search of a precious treasure of her own to protect.
Dusk melted into night. I knew from many nights in the trench that the dark hid much despair and uncertainty. In my own hole, the beauty of the treasure glowed more brightly now. Keen awareness came over me; even more enemy attack was on the move. I was very cold. I hunkered down and reloaded my gun. I hoped for communication from my mirror-friend, but there was none. She too, must be focusing on the night.
Just at what seemed to be my greatest hour of need, a silent 4th soldier slid into my foxhole. She had with her a sack and canteen. "Here", she breathed. As I devoured the amazing food from God knows where, I admired her strength. Not only had she carried food and drink and her own weapon, but she also made it look effortless. As I lifted the canteen to rehydrate, she took up my post and sought out target after target. Her repeated firing excited and unnerved me simultaneously. Her eye for the enemy was well-trained and focused. This soldier come to offer me nourishment during my fight and she fought right along with me!
She stayed with me through the night. Her presence comforted me deeply because I could tell she'd done this all before and succeeded. "What's the trick?", I asked.
"Don't give up. You'll see lots of people doing different things, but remember your purpose. Remember that you have been given a great task and that it will soon be done. So while you are here, in this dingy, dark, often lonely place, take heart. For you will reap great reward for the Kingdom. Oh, and if you try to do this in your own strength, you will fail. You must constantly rely on the strength of our King."
The King. That is who I long for. But for now, I am here and my purpose is to lay down my life for Him. Truly, there is no other battle I'd rather fight. Even though my gun is way too heavy and I'm worn out, I don't want to leave. I want to see my mission through to completion. And when it's done, I want to be like this woman; to support other soldiers in the battle-those who may be losing heart or wearing out. Failure is not a prerequisite. We can have victory.
Before she left, we prayed. The sun was beginning to peak over the distant hills. Pure delight! A new day always brings such a cleansing flood of clean light. The air was slowly warming and I could see there were less enemy soldiers than before. The light always forces them to seek cover, for they hate the light. I decided to peek at my treasure; secure.
Turning back to assess the terrain, I see a large figure running toward me. This soldier is different altogether from the last ones. And I know exactly who's silhouette it is. He is my beloved partner, the only other person in this exhausting battle who's been with me from the start. He is my main support and we are both guarding this treasure behind me.
"How's it going? How are you holding up?" he asks.
"Ok for now. I'm feeling weak, but also encouraged." He squeezes my arm and takes his place beside me. I think the greatest comfort in this whole thing is knowing he and I are in it together. We get to share experiences and learn together. And we both love our treasure so much. We are in it wholeheartedly, shoulder to shoulder. I don't know of a more intimate relationship. Our purposes are unified and as we fight to complete this mission, we have each other to lean on. It is a royal partnership. Male and female, we are very different, yet equally yoked in service to our King.
So, here's were we are. It is a hard battle against a very real and destructive foe. There's no easy out and no right or wrong way to fight. But what really matters is remembering who we are fighting for. There is a King whose holiness and love are matchless. His throne will never be turned over. He's already won. By sacrificing his life, he claimed our souls for eternity. And he asks nothing in return. So we join the fight. We take up our post, lay claim to what is His, and never give up. We trust in Him who sends us and assigns us this mission; the preservation of His priceless treasure.
Thanks for reading my little story. Recently I've been reminded of how vital it is that we remain in the battle for our children. They are the most precious gifts and ultimately belong to our heavenly Father. He has entrusted them to us and I am so grateful. Please comment if you like!
~Love, Mariellen
This is intense and a bit scary.
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