Warrior

There is so much to fight and fight for on this side of eternity. Right now and frequently, I am wearied by this fight.

Sometimes it is a lonely weariness. It is surprisingly isolating to believe that there is evil in the world, and that it bleeds subtly into virtual and real interaction. It hurts to see the dismissing look on friends’ faces when I tell them there is such a thing as evil. And that I experience it frequently. The flippant disbelief hurts. But I keep believing.

Sometimes it is a pent up and frustrated weariness. It is realizing that my body and society have an automatic way of functioning, but that I and we are made for more. I am programmed, told, and reassured that my personal choices do not affect those around me. But I have lived that lie to fruition, only to destroy and be destroyed. So controlling the automatic in me now, while often done in white-knuckle frustration, is worthwhile. I keep resisting the automatic.

Sometimes it’s a scared weariness. Of of what I’ve lost of this world as a result of pursuing truth. The confidence once given to me by the fleeting and superficial is painfully and slowly shed. It falls away now as I become confident in something greater, constant, transcendental. The things outside me that once reassured my dignity drop off with each season of my life: one by one, leaving me to re-establish a quieter, centered, unchanging, inner dignity. Building this kind of confidence forces me to face myself. My choices. My mistakes. My flaws. Terrifying, sobering, but I keep nurturing an unchanging dignity.

Sometimes it’s a sad weariness. I am sad to acknowledge humanity’s capacity, my capacity, to offend another. To violate dignity in the name of disordered conscience. To truly believe that we are all alone in creating lives that lead to abundance. To think that “it’s my life and no one else’s”. To forget that we belong to one another and should care about how the choices we make affect others. To want to reach out to a loved one who is hurt, but to have them be resistant because of their own battles from the journey. To want to show another I care, but not knowing how. It is sad to see others hurt because of evil, but I keep trying to reach out. At the very least, in prayer.

All of the time, it is a vulnerable weariness. I am small and weak compared to the millions of powerful forces in the world. I am poor and searching for truth and Love. But as I become weaker, more humble, more dependent on a force stronger than evil, I am made strong. Sometimes, I am given the nourishment to keep going despite my weariness. Other times, I need to suffer through it, foregoing immediate nourishment. Sometimes I settle for the nourishment when I need to suffer, and sometimes I suffer in vain. The seemingly endless human journey.

But in my vulnerability and weariness, I am able to admit that I cannot journey alone. I am able to search for the company of others making the same journey, often more courageous than I. I am able to accept imperfect love as I am imperfect. I am able to forgive those who have hurt me as I learn to ask forgiveness of others. I learn that people are fragile, vulnerable, precious, as I become more fragile, vulnerable, and precious. I am able to purify my intentions. I am able to experience pure joy in only a way experienced by someone who has endured pure suffering.

I accept that there is evil in the world, and I accept the suffering it takes to fight it. It is only through suffering that I am made fully alive.

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