A Weapon of Choice

(Continued from Lines of Authority)

With my hands on the handle and my forehead against the jewels on the cross-guard, I prayed thusly. I remained on my knees for some time, silent, pondering the things I had seen and knew to be true. The wind that had come up earlier had stopped and all was still about me. Now and then I broke the quiet air with gentle words of prayer, expressing my joy over the insights I had been given.

As I leaned into the sword, my forehead lay against the jewels set into its handle. My arms rested beneath the grip of my hands. An energy came from the sword. I felt a pulse, very gently at first, penetrating my skull, moving through my hands down the length of my arms and back up into my shoulders. The sensation was pleasant and soft, like the rhythm of a brook, encouraging my thoughts.

A peace settled over me. I could think of nothing but joy. I felt joy from the experiences, joy from the insights and joy from the anticipation of what might come. Joy was everywhere in me. The sword increased in vibration until I heard it humming in my ears. Still I expressed joy, keeping my eyes closed.

Then another kind of energy came into my awareness and it was not good. Something swarmed about my head, like wasps, only larger. I opened my eyes to see what it was but saw nothing there; yet I could feel the disturbance in the air, separate from the sword. The sword became more vibrant yet. I looked at the jewels inlaid and saw them pulsating light from within, Brilliant blues, reds and purples sparkled before me, pulsating hues and rich transparencies of gemstone. They glowed almost as if they were living. “What is this?” I asked. Immediately the answer came: The joys of saints and martyrs.

“Joys?” I asked.

Gems of the saints and martyrs.”

“Yes,” I whispered, then I yelled my new discovery, “Yes!” I rose to my feet quickly to their surprise. I knew the names of the dark spirits swarming: Dissuader, Despair, Doubter and Venom. They flew about me taunting and daring, trying to get my attention away from God.

Now I could see them. I had the Sword of Joy in my hands. I swung it through the air all about, yelling testimony. “God is Glorious beyond compare! Sovereign and Great! Flee from me, you spirits of darkness, or go into the pit!”

They fled. That which had come to mock and destroy the tenderness of my faith fled like scared rabbits from the wielding of my sword. I saw their forms fly off and disappear.

Once again, peace settled over me. I understood. The sword was for the protection of faith, my weapon to wield in the coming fight.