The Hardest Thing From Here

(Continued from In This Earshot, April 20th Archive)

Before long the whole plain was alive with harmony. We were all headed in the same direction, toward the rising sun, and everyone seemed unified and full of joy. We continued in this manner for some length of time marching and singing together. But we were spread thin. The band of people with me was among the larger. Most were either alone or in small groups.

The horizon looked like trees in the distance. Everyone was excited. We hurried in our steps until we got close enough as a group. Then it was as if we all saw the same thing at the same time. That which appeared to be a forest was instead an army and they were a hundred-fold more than we.

We stopped in our tracks, our mouths came open agasped. Daniel said, "There are so many."

"And they oppose us, have no doubt," I said. It was obvious to everyone. "Keep singing," I shouted. Many in our ranks were breaking and running toward the rear. It was too late, the plain was much too large for retreat. "Please, keep, singing. We must sing praise, for the Lord's army is greater than this."

"I've only got this dagger."

"And I have no sword, Daniel. Trust the Lord. We have no choice." But I admit even now my knees were weak and my heart fluttered in fear. The great army before us was advancing and they were obviously the enemy. "Bless you, O Lord, Saviour of my soul. Rescue us now. Come rescue us now."

I did my best to sing. Daniel and several others joined in meekly. We could see others of ours on the plain doing the same, at least trying. Many were praying, some weeping. Only a few ran, but even some of those, realizing apparently that they had no hope, stopped and turned to face the enemy.

"The hardest thing from here," I said to Daniel "is to see heaven before it comes."

"If the Lord does not intervene, we will surely die," Daniel muttered.

"Keep your eyes on Heaven, Daniel. Sing. Sing. Sing with all the joy you can muster." I stood up. My breath grew strong and I sang with all my heart before the advance of the enemy.

###Dwayne K. Parsons

In This Earshot

(Continued from The Root of Joy, 4/2 Archive)

At first I was surprised by the fact that morning light broke on the horizon at the same time in which I experienced this glad awakening in my heart. But as we enjoyed it and marveled in the early hour beauty, I grew in awareness that this light of day in our dark world had much to do with the choice toward happiness.

Knowing how difficult it is to choose such when things are dark and the direction is not clear, I bid the others by reminding them that we were on this walk because God had decided we should be. "Make no mistake about it," I said, "you are with me because God put something in you, stirred you up when you were asleep. We're walking this path because the Lord of Hosts is coming--be glad in it."

What a sight I had before me. In the day light I could see that more had joined my company during the long night. I estimated at least two hundred of mixed ages, gender and size. For the most part, they were motley, ragged and broken in spirit. None had weapons except my younger friend and one other, a man in armor who carried a spear. The rest had sticks or carried nothing at all by which to defend themselves. But I saw faith in some of them, particularly in a couple of the women. One was older, near my age; the other, younger. Both were obviously strong. They had chosen happiness and encouraged those around them to give praise and thanksgiving. I also was greatly encouraged by them.

Why had all these people taken to me? I had had no intention to gather people about me. They stood in front of me nonetheless, dependent in their anticipation that I would somehow take them out of this dark wilderness. We were as a crowd on a great wide plain, sparsed by bush and a few trees. Rock outcroppings, some higher than others decorated the landscape seemingly without logic. We could see many other people about at distances near and far. Most were in bands following someone but a few walked alone or in small company. I could see as the dawn grew stronger that the faint lights of glowing swords I'd seen on the ground here and there were leaders of these bands.

"We're certainly not alone," I commented to my close friend.

"Praise God," he responded.

"Exactly," I realized at his words. "That's exactly right!" He had just handed me a revelation. I stopped walking. The crowd stopped with me.

I turned to them and spoke loudly so that all could hear, "Remember by The Hope Stone how we praised God and thanked Him? That's what we must do! Now raise your voices to Him who created you and praise Him."

I began singing a simple phrase. The two women I mentioned joined in easily as they were leaders themselves and, though softly at first, even the complainers began to sing. Soon the pack of us became a source of unified song. Our harmony carried across the plain. Other groups stopped walking as well. Hearing our song, they joined in the chorus. Some of those who walked alone fell to their knees. One man walking alone in the distance raised his arms up looking toward the breaking sky. Song spread across the land in a wave moving out in all directions.

"Daniel," I said, for his name was Daniel, "Do you see what I see?"

"Everyone is singing," he said with a half-controlled laugh of delight, "They're praising God--praise God! They're praising God!"

"Yes, everyone is praising Him! Keep singing." The song was the same everywhere: I need thee Lord. I need thee, yes I need thee, which then became collectively: We need thee, Lord, yes we need thee. We need thee. Over and over again people sang in harmony the same words and with great joy they sang it. One could not help but be happy in this earshot and as we sang, the day's light grew stronger still.

### Dwayne K. Parsons

The Root of Joy

(Continued from Once in the Long Days of Night--3/16 archive)
To say things went well over the following days would be false. They did not.

Getting down off The Hope Stone I was of course elated. My young friend did not see the vision nor hear the voice, but he said I was still glowing from the intense light he'd seen. He helped me down off the rock.

Seeing that my sword was gone, he asked about it. I told him it had been taken from me. "Oh," he replied simply but with a tone of dismay in his voice. "Don't worry," I assured him. "The joy is in my heart. We'll be fine."

I wanted to believe that but as the glow wore off, I found myself less and less able to show it. Many of the people following me had seen a great light and they talked about it for awhile. But as we trudged through the night they forgot about it. Some of them began to complain. Walking in the dark was not easy, they said, and they wanted to know where I was taking them.

This attitude festered in the group and soon began to wear on me. At one point I stubbed my toe on a rock I hadn't seen and I cursed it in pain as I danced about on one foot. Then I turned my anger on them. "Will you stop complaining?" It took my friend by surprise. His face said enough. I apologized, "I'm sorry." I turned to the hundred or so and said, "Can you not walk in the darkness without complaining?" Some answered only by asking where we were going. "That way," I said; but I had no clear idea. I turned away from them and continued walking, though with a slight limp.

Quite some time passed before I realized that the lack of joy in my being had little or nothing to do with the people following me. Before I realized that however, I went through a period of increasing frustration. Sudden anger seemed often only a breath away. I had found it too easy to blame one or another for my sorry state of being.

We were lost on the plain. Other than the star in the sky I had no bearing on where we were or where to take them. I couldn't answer their stupid question. Dawn seemed a long way off. We hadn't seen a shred of daylight for quite awhile. My friend pulled his dagger and swung it in the air several times and I knew why. I said nothing, but I was troubled. How could I swing a sword I did not have? We were being attacked and I knew it. I had the armor, but I had no weaponry.

Then I saw what was happening. I stopped walking and fell to my knees. I raised my hands toward the star. "Where is my joy?" I asked. I confessed that I was sorrowful, that I had lost the joy somewhere in my disbelief. "I saw you. I know you. I know it was you. Where is my joy? What have I done to lose it? I cannot find it in me."

The star remained where it was, a tiny yet brightly steady light in a blackened sky, unresponsive. All the people with me gathered about, some expressing their impatience. My friend, still of good intent, asked, "Is there anything I can do?"

"Yes." I weighed my answer. "Yes. Be happy." I looked at him and then turned my attention to the others as I rose to my feet. "We HAVE something we can do. We can be happy! It's not something we eat and it's not something we get. It's a choice. Be happy!" The complainers stepped back. "Are you intimidated by that?" I asked them pointedly. "You shouldn't be! Just a short time back you were singing praises in blessed harmony. You brought forth God's presence by it! Don't you remember? Look at you now? You complain about everything. You cry and whine like wild dogs. You bicker and moan and fight and argue. What is that? No wonder we are lost in the darkness. Be happy!"

I turned from them and started walking again. I knew I was as guilty as they. I had allowed circumstance to rule. "We've got to stop living this way" I muttered. I put my hand on my friend's shoulder and explained to him, "We're just walking through here. We are not bound by these circumstances." He agreed. Courageous he was and always so willing. I loved him for that.

I raised my arm to the sky as if I had a sword in my hand and cried out in a loud, happy voice, "I, for one, am happy. I...AM...HAPPY!"

And suddenly I was. Morning light broke across the sky.

###Dwayne K. Parsons