Previous Challenge Entry (EDITOR'S CHOICE)
Topic: The Kingdom of God( 03/12/09)
TITLE:
The March | Writing Challenge By Rick Higginson 03/19/09 |
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1st Place
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I’ve lost track of how long we’ve been on this march. Days, easy. Weeks? Maybe. We don’t even know where we’re going, and sometimes the only way to keep going is just to focus on one step at a time.
<i>Left, right, left, right.</i>
I can almost hear my old drill sergeant counting the cadence so many years ago, yelling like his mouth was full of marbles. “Owup, ooop, reeep, forp.” None of us recruits had the nerve to criticize his diction. Hard to believe, now, that we were all so afraid of him. Imagining him alongside this formation, yelling out his commands, helps keep me moving.
<i>Step, slog, step, slog.</i>
To distract my mind from my aching feet, I turn to the guy next to me. “You know, I’ve been thinking,” I say.
“Not like there’s much else to do, besides walking,” he says.
“Since it’s God’s kingdom, and God is our King, do you suppose this is kind of a feudal system?”
“I don’t know about that, but this whole journey seems pretty futile to me.”
“It would mean there’d be loads of peasants at the bottom of the ladder.”
“God could rapture them by yelling, ‘Serfs up!’”
“Give me wax for my board, keep me serfin’ for the Lord,” I sing.
“Keep it up; I’ve almost forgotten how long it’s been since lunch.”
“Of course, I’ve always preferred the chivalrous age. Give me a suit of armor and a quest from God, and I’m set.”
It’s his turn to sing. “Oh holy knight, the stars are brightly shining.”
“Maybe I could get a title, like duke or baron.”
“God’s already had some barons. Wasn’t Sarah barren?”
“Excellent point, and aren’t we also bearin’ each other’s burdens?”
“A burden the hand is worth two in the bush.”
“Oh, good one. Remind me not to covet my neighbor’s puns.” I wish I’d thought of that one.
“I think in this situation, God will overlook it.”
My foot hits some slick mud, and he catches my arm before I fall. “Look out; now I’m back sliding.”
“Don’t worry; I’ll hold you accountable.”
“I’ve been a’countin’ all day. One, two, three, four, one, two, three, four, left, right.”
“Is that any way for a child of the King to act?”
“Hey, that’s right! I’m a child of the King! You know what that makes me? I’m the Prince formally known as artist.”
“I think it’s more likely we’re both just fools.”
“The fool was a highly regarded member of the king’s court. I’d rather be a fool by the throne of God, than a prince somewhere else.”
“Shut yer yaps, Christians,” the guard comes up behind us, yelling. He hisses the word “Christian” to emphasize his opinion of us. “It’d be a waste of ammo to shoot you both right here, but you keep up that yammerin’, and I might just decide it’s worth it.”
I glance at my friend, and the resigned smile that crosses both our lips indicates the unspoken agreement. I offer a silent prayer for the soldiers charged with escorting us wherever we are going, and I know my companion is doing likewise. The jokes and the laughs were our short-lived distraction; a momentary reminder that, even in this persecution, God’s joy is our strength.
<i>The Kingdom of God is at hand,</i> we whisper through the huddled groups at night. How do we know? In the deepest darkness, that first ray of light breaking over the horizon is startling, and in this dark time, we can see the glimpse of our Redeemer approaching.
<i>Left, right, left, right.</i>
We wanted the Kingdom to come easily for us. We wanted to be found happily worshipping our God in the midst of good times, and be taken out before the real birth-pangs started. Our King had other ideas.
<i>Left, right, left, right.</i>
We pass a body lying face down in the mud; one of our brethren whose body finally gave out on this death-march. In a way, I envy him; he is now arrayed in the ranks of the Army of the Kingdom of God. He is strong now, and perfected. I ask my King when my turn will come, and I think I hear a softly whispered voice saying, “Soon.”
<i>Step, slog, step, slog.</i>
With a slight smile, I keep walking. Our captors don’t know it, but we’re marching to the Kingdom.
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