Remembering the Forgetful
It was when he had turned around and walked away that he felt the crushing blow, the cut so deep within that he just couldn't find the pride or strength to turn back around and walk into a welcome.
He had found himself here many times before. This street had become synonymous with who he was, and with who he wasn't. He had left these streets victorious many times before, in fact, he was undefeated by human standards. But, this time, the angel had gone too far. He had touched him in his hip and now, now, he call all but walk and was resorted to limping back home to his only waiting solace, chopper who was a sandy brown snauzer. And as he turned to limp away from this angel, he didn't want to ever turn back there ever again. Even though he had been here many times, this was the last time he ever wanted to venture into these black avenues. He was done, the angel had gone too far. Because, the angel took his pride and ran with it and took the only victory he was looking forward to gloat about.
He had a scar above his right hip bone. The scar had follwed him for years now, into wrinkles and even a much more defined limp that came naturally with age. He could never forget that night when he walked away with something new, something that he couldn't see till as beautiful. The other times before, he walked away from the angel blessed, but, in that moment on that fateful night, he walked away rewarded. His scar, a reminder became the reward he not only wanted, but now he had come to see that he needed. He was so grateful for that encounter, as bitter as he was that night and for a few years to come, one night out of fury and lack of pride he ran and he ran mile and miles until he found that angel waiting for him. And then they dueled, and he walked away blessed.
So, now as he begins to end his earthly life he must go. He must go. He is running as fast as a limping old man can run, and now he meets his partner face to face, and this is the last duel that he will meet his weathered friend.
I think we underestimate the power of scars and their value on us. Not to say we should look for sin or for scars for that matter. We can get so caught up in the blessings of christianity which don't teach us as much as the scars do. We need those blessings to remind us when the scars get too thick to handle. We must look for the reward in the most unlikely of places.
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