Your battles may not be violent. The scars they leave may only be spiritual. But the scars will forever shape your character.
The mortars exploding around you may not consist of gunpowder and shrapnel, but social conflicts in your family, hometown, country or empire. Nonetheless, they may end your life for good.
The bullets whining past your head are not of lead — but out of lies, breakups, abuse and manipulation. Nonetheless, they blow a gaping wound through your heart and cause hydrostatic shock that may end your life for good.
And even if you manage to get out of No Man’s Land unscathed, your friend, brother or loved one may not. You can become wounded and killed by proxy.
One day your mother sees you. And realizes she is next of kin. You have come to notify her about your death, the worry-free and innocent boy she had raised and loved is now gone. Hacked away by life itself. And in his shoes, now stands a man with different eyes and another soul.
“Another soul,” you think as you view the small, orange-hued clouds floating over the lightly blue summer sky. The setting sun. It brings out rich green in the spruces which underline Heaven. “Another soul who has felt pain and seen the grimness of the outer edge of life”
But you can not help but believe… it’s another soul whose eyes have been opened to the Good.
Only by knowing that which is bad and evil can you know what is truly Good. Only by rising from the dead can you, albeit battle-scarred, know what it means to live. To live good and honor God.
You stand up and face the escaping sun. The sky is a thousand hues of orange and purple. You don’t like the light escaping. But the solemn, bitter beauty in the downfall — and your faith in that God will bless you with dawn once again — allows you to sleep deep.
“God made it all worth it.”