Between the Folds of Hate
Nov 06, 2020
There are shadows lurking between the folds of our suffering and our joy. As the nation teeters upon the pivot of a calamitous history we are burdened unlike any time our living eyes have seen. Blinded by longer eves of irreversible division. I dare to say that much is at stake, more than we care to collectively admit.
We must begin to accept that the riders are mounting their horses, the willing are preparing their fortitude, and the Warriors are beginning to stir. The brink is burning its way over our unrestrained horizons, too soon to become a sight for these weary eyes. The winds of democracy may be laced with the flames of hate.
Forgive them, for they know not what they do.
It is upon us to allow the treacherous, uncharted legal battles to take place. To resist the pull of evil, tearing its way through our ranks. We must trust that truth shall dawn the dark days ahead. And that we as the United States shall not pull our sacred scars apart by pulling ourselves apart too.
The only thing left holding the animal skins together is our faith in its fading ink. A perfect union must be built upon the hallowed graves of justice and tranquility. These prophetic guidelines have gotten us, the people, through prior pandemics, world wars, and a civil war. We must trust our legacy as we trusted the names of those who have died on its behalf.
There is a free will within you. Choose to take the side of reason. That beautiful consciousness which allows us not to live as animals do, but to continue to increase our measured distance from that most recent time of prolific death, the 20th century. The application of pain is a choice that spans the many bleak hours from our tattered past. The human condition has proven itself to have a ferocity to its love affair with conflict.
So before you throw insults or lead, please ask for a moment of Grace. A moment that God might pierce your hardened heart, and that you feel the crushing pain of war without seeing the scars sacrifice for the rest of your life. The heaviness of death does not care who pretends to be more righteous. Evil does not distinguish between Democrat or Republican, Black or White, Gay or Straight, Man or Woman. The Reaper sows all battlefields.
History is being written. You will play a role. Your empathy or your apathy will write the script of your place in the pages of time. What shall it say. This man, this woman, this nation, followed the hallowed words of its living past and overcame the negative insurgency’s assault on our blessed Constitutional Republic. Or shall it read like the burned pages of a failed state. It is up to you.
There is a light at the end of this preverbal tunnel, no doubt. It has been written long ago. The truth is ordained by God. We must love each other as we love ourselves. If you struggle now to feel this love then ask yourself why? What virus has entered your soul? Why do you hate others simply because they voted against you? If you can’t trust they want very similar things in life then perhaps we are too late. Because if you can’t trust their pursuit of life, liberty, and happiness then you will never trust what the Supreme Court delivers as our sentence, or, God willing, our salvation.