The Call

To whom are left the rousing soliloquies?
That word that stirs the heart, challenges the spirit?
To whom the sword? To whom the final stand-off?

Those at the battlefront.

Our lot - our chosen lot is not to stand aside and let others fight
for our freedom, no. Our lot - our chosen lot is not to watch while others
- bolder than ourselves, with greater conviction, more reckless of their
own lives, more envisioned, more consumed with purpose - our lot is not
to watch these charge the battle lines.

It is for us to be among them.

A more frightening yet inspiring vision I know not of. Our place is to storm
the castle, lay siege to the strongholds, give our every last breath, our every
last strength, ourselves to the cause. To say, " I died today - but Christ lives
in me."

The front-line men. The ones who stood when others ran. The ones who fought
when surrender called. The broken front-liners who bore the first onslaught,
plunged into the sea of the enemy - to swarm, to crush, to tear down, to destroy,
to smite the enemies' weapons with a single blow. Not by power and not by might
but by His Spirit.

To crush the enemy. To crush the enemy!

Our lot, nay - no more. But our call, our destiny.
Mine. Yours. Ours.
For we are front-liners.
The baton is in our hands.
Nay yet again...
for it is a torch.