Staying Alive

I watched some of The Last of the Mohicans over lunch today. The tape was already poised at the waterfall scene. Seeing Nathaniel's intensity as he squared Cora in the eyes and commanded her to "stay alive" hit something solid in me, and I broke down weeping. I am in two places at once: I am Cora, watching as my Rescuer leaves but with the promise for my ransom and return to take me back. And I'm also Nathaniel - or, at least, want to be: a man with steetly determination, courage, vigor, life, here to rescue the beloved wherever she may be held captive, "no matter how long it takes, no matter how far." To come after her, to find her, to win her back.

And that's what makes me come alive. I've never felt more alive than when I am living from my heart for the hearts of others, pouring out my heart and soul that others may go free. Why do the important things fade so quickly? Why does Reality seem to darken, as if I were losing precious blood from some hidden wound or gasping for air after being slammed in the chest, and so my days are defined lately by struggling just to breath and raging, as the poem puts so well, "against the dying of the light"?

It's been almost non-stop since January, this battle. And the Enemy - the Thief... it's like that game I played when I was a boy where I put something in my hand, clenched tight my fist, and then held it out to someone smaller, like my little cousin, and dared him to try to break open my fist and retrieve the prize. And sometimes I would feel that he was winning, and my fist is opening up and I can't do anything to stop it, except maybe grab it with my other hand or just try running away from the offender (surprised, all the while, that he had the strength to do that afterall). Something precious is being stolen... I can feel it. And I'm desperate that it not be.

Holy Spirit, give me the gut-level courage to abide in You this day, to stand in You, to submit to You, to learn of You, to watch You, to be loved by You, and to resist Your enemy and mine.