“13 For when God made a promise to Abraham, since he had no one greater by whom to swear, he swore by himself, 14 saying, “Surely I will bless you and multiply you.” 15 And thus Abraham, having patiently waited, obtained the promise. 16 For people swear by something greater than themselves, and in all their disputes an oath is final for confirmation. 17 So when God desired to show more convincingly to the heirs of the promise the unchangeable character of his purpose, he guaranteed it with an oath, 18 so that by two unchangeable things, in which it is impossible for God to lie, we who have fled for refuge might have strong encouragement to hold fast to the hope set before us. 19 We have this as a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul, a hope that enters into the inner place behind the curtain, 20 where Jesus has gone as a forerunner on our behalf, having become a high priest forever after the order of Melchizedek.” (Heb 6:13-20 ESV)

Healthsome assurance, this blankets the Christian with life resilient and life effusive, bubbling up, some fascinated mindset, mentality, of the great things being done in Christ’s Name. We dream. We fight obtuse harassment of the soul, the ways we are roiled in distraction, wrapped up in rather pained mentality, compromised by uncertainties.

Uncertainties, these also come day’s end, puncture the dream and give reality-check to the vision: could it be, all these blanketing assurances, that these must emanate from Within? No other soul doing them: we must do them ourselves? That the daydream, that the Prayer, that the delegation of duties, these all come full circle to a more standard, sober-minded Reality? People are plodding along, yes. And breakwaters occur, yes. Advantageous beachheads, even. But that Today’s battle is ours to own. Today’s duty is our call to answer. Today’s fascination, is ours to fulfill with rampant deeds, with precocious deeds, with superlative deeds.

The fright factor, the pained existence, the worry and the caution: too subdued by the judgments of others, too plodding under the assessments of a critic, the strange buoyant ways we recollect and collect Life Experience, some visage of a neighborhood, church included, as where and how our meditations still emanate from: these things recollect a life buoyant, life lifting and weightless. A time of making Decisions, and walking into a bright New Tomorrow.

To pray throughout the day is to be patient and rewarded by the Fellowship, who and where Things Happen. The fear of having trusted too much in strangers, the fright at having bothered simple souls who were just trying to get by, the duty not to rock the boat… too much. These things hearken to the fact, no missive nor pastoral response can quite Fix Things on its own: it is Christ who braves the day, who faces the sunshine, who sees all go topsy-turvy, yes, and all that with Him still at the helm, at the forlorn Helm, the helm we regret and wish after all, ambitions aside, we didn’t have to man. People are themselves in existential Trial and Horror, in Impasse and Depressive Realms, scarcely awakened sufficiently to the pain in their own lives, then to be asked to Reckon with life treasonous and treacherous to others. These things we can meditate on, but too, that blanket assurance of Sincere Hope, that an olive branch was indeed passed on, that some emphatic cry or breakdown in tears, is these days written out as a more patient Missive, just letting that Missive fix… Everything! If only.

The Christian surrounds herself, himself, with Dutiful sorts of folk, folk who are aware that tears shall come, that age and pain and “Where did the years go?” will cause headache and bring angst-ridden flailing out. But our own personal testimonies: these are not offhand flailings. These are not caprice nor obstinate unrepentance, unsubmission. Rather, it is a post-study, post-academy, Response to the fact of those studious years: that life is post-breakage, post-logical, post-theoretical. Life is an astonishing reprimand to the Proud, and an astonishing Buoyancy to the subdued. As those subdued, we are Recipients of a New Tomorrow, and no longer carry the headache and burden on our own. Our distraction… this is dutiful time of prayer, after all. Prayer for each and everyone—literally—crossing our paths this day. Even for enemies. Even for passing acquaintances. Even for those with much to lose, those treacherously post-void, post-decision, who seemingly can’t change their mind now. It being too late.

The reality, then of Today’s war is a reality of us trying to shape opinions and change minds. It is our own failure to acknowledge, our own caricature to remember, our own self-awareness to fess up to simultaneous to Expecting Change in others. We Expect, we dare to step up to the plate, we dare to Prescribe, even as we are succoured by Christ’s own Patience with our own frames and souls and histories. If this would-be interlocutor, if they be pained, well then let Pain be heard in our own plaintive appeals. Our appeal that Someone would Hear and would Respond. So that the trying hours… these given over to “prayer” and imagined reasoning… that the Duty would never escape our own frames, but that all we envision others doing, we, too, set forth to level up to. Someone will get it done, because He got it done.

Therefore to labor is to seek out a Correct Response to our gifted callings, lifeforms, occupation: we were, after all, entrusted though also asked to be personally Mature. Entrusted with purpose and relevance. Entrusted to lead in some meager fashion. Entrusted to make decisions uncoddled, without regular correction or paternal invocation. No invocation of that office called “Parent”, we marveled at the levels of trust, and therein found Occasion and Inspiration to rise up. To inspire others. To let some things go silent, ruling “in the midst of our enemies” for a season, non-punishing of others thought they rebel and wander: for, what is our legitimacy but this, that Christ anointed us, for some strangely Relevant and Contemporary brand of service. And in this we strive, searching, asking for mercy, willing always to let our All-In servanthood lead right on to our personal Crosses. Christ’s Heroes: these… we… never compare ourselves to the laggard in the pew, but rather to Him the Head, Christ who Died on a Cross. We shall one day die full of that same Potential He bore with Him to the grave. We will not have gotten all things done quite yet, but shall nonetheless not spend our days resenting the laggards’ spoils. We are proud to serve and bold to rise up.