The Calling

"Look to my coming, at first light, on the fifth day....
At dawn, look to the east..."
It is a voice known to her, so familiar, so precious, that suddenly and without warning rings out in the darkened chill of her chamber, sweeping away all other thoughts from her mind as she lays upon the bed, leaving only these:

what seems to be is always better than nothing
and nothing at all
is what a fool believes

it's hopeless
you know it
the battle is fierce
the enemy is crafty, his numbers great
his strategy a one-on-one fight and it appears to be working
many are called, many will die
only a radical few will remain
bright
white
who was the first man behind Christ to enter paradise?
a thief to the world, to God he was Beloved
rock, paper, scissors
honor trumps them all

so much death
what can men do against such reckless hate?

ride out......
ride out with me.....and meet them....

ride with the one who says,
"When my time comes
even if I am old and grey,
I want to be standing, and dignified
Yes
I am a child of God
that is my prayer
let me have that kind of strength, that kind of courage..."

This you already know, just as well as you know who said it.
You hear nothing that does not already beat within your heart.
Despite what you think, you do have one.
Intact, beating, throbbing with life, full of love.

What can you do about it?
That is not the question.
It only matters that you stand up.
Be one of His.
Claim Him and be not afraid.
"It is not up to us the times we live in. It is up to us what to do with that time."

The voice comes to her again, softly, soothing, singing, suggesting.
"You just gonna lay there?
Or are we gonna go out and meet them?"
The room is filled with the sound of metal's hiss as if a sword is being drawn from its scabbard, as the voice accompanies:
"For you my Queen!!!"