Wounded feet

Thud!

I tripped on my sword again and hit the dirt road face first. The aroma of the soil filled my lungs while the light rain pelted my back.

“My Lord, this sword is heavy and bulky” I said as I tried to extract myself from the mud.

The sword pressed heavily at my back. I have tried different methods of binding it to my person, and never let it out of my sight, as my Lord insisted. I found that I could easily carry the sword at my back although its point still juts behind me and the weight bears on my back. It took me a while to figure it out but when I move in a straight line, the sword did not bother me. However, when I stagger off His path, like this moment, the sword gets stuck in the ground causes me to trip. I do want to follow the straight path but my blistered feet ache to find another direction to ease the pressure off the wounds.

I tried to get out of the mud but to no avail. The sword and my gear weighed too much. I also felt that the water is slowly covering me. I tried to lift my face but it only made matters worse. The muddy water quickly filled the void that is left by my face and submerged me once more.

“Help me” I uttered before the mud finally covered my mouth.

At that instant I felt being pulled up in the mud. The next thing that I knew is that I’m seeing Him face to face, His concern peering through His broken features.

“Give me your burden; I will take care of it.” He said

I nodded and offered the heavy blade back. However, He insisted that I keep the sword on. He explained that rather trail along behind Him, I should be walking by Him instead which I did.

We still walked once more in the rain, but I feel a little different. My feet, though still blistered and swollen felt light. My face still feels itchy but I did not care much. I felt that by just walking with Him, I was able feel better.

---

My Lord stopped and pointed to a little girl by the roadside. She was silently weeping as she clutched her wounded left foot. The wind and the rain hid her tears and cries for help and her tattered muddy clothes that blended with the dirt road that we were traversing. I wouldn’t have noticed her presence had my Master not stopped and directed my attention towards her.

“Go, help the little one” He said.

“My Lord, I don’t know how to heal” I responded

I have no healing supplies with me and I only remember scant excerpts from the tomes found in the library.

“Yes you do know, it is a part of the grace that I gave you“ He replied “Now, bind her wounds”

I still hesitated for a while but I just followed His command. I approached the girl who for some reason managed to laugh at my mud-caked face and not fear the heavy sword at my side. It seems that she was actually comforted by the sight of the sword. I felt that she knew that it was meant to protect her and not to harm her. I slowly knelt beside her so as not to startle her and not to trip on my sword again. I lifted her foot carefully and covered it with my cloak to protect it from the elements. I then dried and bound it with clean clothes from my pack as meticulously as I could. I could always go back to the marketplace for new clothes but this girl might not be that fortunate.

“All done” I said after fixing her wounds, I still felt that my skill is inadequate but I took comfort on the fact that I’ve done all that I could.
“Thank you Sir!” she beamed back, as if my treatment was the best she got for a long time.

I started to rise and felt something different. I looked at my feet and saw that the blisters on my feet are healing.

I looked at my Master in amazement “How could this be?”

“I comforted you so that you could comfort others” He said

Psalm of Paths

O Lord, My God

Teach me Your ways,
Guide me to Your paths

Lead me to a plain path,
Direct me to the narrow gates
Show me the paths of life

Teach me how to reach You
Lord, teach me how to pray

Lead me to Your presence,
Let me stay there in the fullness of joy
May Your glory ever inspire me

My spirit is overwhelmed by my enemies
They have set snares in my path

But I know that You know my journey
You will provide a way to endure and escape
Your hand will lead me back in Your ways

Guide me O God, with your Word
May it be a light as I walk the path that You set

May your covenant and testimonies
Be with me as I walk with You
On paths of everlasting love and faithfulness

A Sword in the Dark

“Wield me” A voice whispered.

The voice woke me up in the in the middle of my sleep. I wearily opened my eyes to see who was speaking to me. My room was still dark save for the faint glow of the lamp that rested at the table opposite my bed. I sleepily scanned the lone window of my room to catch the rascal that is tricking me but only found the faint glow of starlight. Thinking that the voice is only a figment of my imagination, I resorted back to sleep.

“Wield me” the voice spoke once more.

I bolted upright. I’m sure that what I’ve heard is real and the source is in my room. I grabbed the pen beside my bed, hoping to at least stab my assailant if he attacks me. I meticulously viewed the bare walls of my room but did not found anyone.

“Weild me” it spoke again.

This time I knew it came near the lampstand. I hurriedly flung my blankets aside and rushed towards the light hoping to scare the intruder. Instead, I was the one that was surprised. I found a claymore leaning on the right side of my table, barely illuminated by my lamp.
I carefully moved nearer the weapon while looking at the shadows to make sure that its owner is not nearby. Sensing that no one was there, I held the sword up high and viewed it in the light of the lamp. It was heavy, but it did not bother me as I studied it. The handle of the sword was made of bound tattered leather, worn from a hundred battles. The guard is straight bar and shone with a dull bronze glow. The blade itself was made of dark steel that seems to melt into the shadows of my room.

“Use me” the voice said. This time from the very weapon that I held with my arms.

I almost dropped the weapon. Had I not tightened my grip the whispering sword would have surely ran me through.

“What are you?” I asked the weapon on my hand.

I gripped it tighter as I believe that it will cut me down if I let go.

“I am a weapon sharper than any double edged sword. I cut through both flesh and spirit.”

“How could you speak? How could you understand me?” I said to the weapon rapidly.

“I am a living weapon. I see the thoughts of the heart”

“What do you want from me?” I asked “If you could see my heart you could see that I’m a writer, not a fighter”.

I was a loss on how describe my trade to it. My pen was nowhere to be found and my bed clothes cannot convince anyone of my literary profession.

“I am here to accomplish what my Master has sent me. “ It said “I’m here for you to wield”

“But I cannot use you! How could I swing you in battle? You are even taller than I am.”

“Do not be afraid” it spoke softly “My Master will guide your hand, He will help you.”

“Your master?” I asked

I think I understand now what the sword needs me to do. I held the weapon on one hand and carefully fixed it to my side with the other. For some reason I felt at peace, even as the sharp blade pressed lightly on my side.

“Who is your master? Is he the same as the One that I follow?” I asked the weapon.

“I am the sword of His Spirit, I am His Word”

I glanced back at the sword at my side. I felt that I can accomplish much of my Lord’s task with it by my side, by my heart.