Sons and Daughters

I am not from this world. I was born to a great destiny. I have a purpose. A name of eternity has been stamped to my forehead. My fight is not hopeless. My words are not in vain. My eyes are fixed on the sky. I have not been abandoned. My father is returning. He will set everything right.

I have to find the others. Thre seems to be so few of us. How can we survive this separation from what we were born for? How long? Can all of this truly be happening? A royal priesthood is what they call us.

I feel far from royal or noble. Our father is a great king. This is evident through us, the sons and daughters. We speak, fight and sing differently than any others. We were marked from birth . It is who we are. Yet we look so similiar to everyone else. We could blend into the crowds easily.

Sometimes, when the days are long and the heaviness of evil is more than one can bear it is hard to believe. Sometimes, I lift my head to the sky and scream in anguish. I just want to go home. Feel safe. Feel wanted and desired. Feel at peace. Feel rested.

Instead, I feel weary, weak, threatened and undesired. I am asked to be thing I cannot be. I try, just to feel some kind of temporary belonging, but always fail. Then I am rejected.

These days are full of a new kind of battle. The battle before the end.

I can feel the intensity in the air. Our father is coming back, we must be prepared. We must fight for his return.

The groaning and trevail in my body has begun. I can feel myself yearning for separation from this earth and unification with my real home.

I would do anything to go there now. I can feel this world's hatred and accusation towards me. Like a piercing, dark curved knife aimed straight for my heart.

I have only two choices: to fight or die. To die would be easy, painless and final. To fight is terrible...but in the end thre is only a beginning. A beginning of bliss and beauty.

My lips tremble with supressed emotions and pain. My sword, covered in blood, is clenched tightly in one fist. Dawn is coming. I feel the relief wash through my body. However small joy this relief brings, it is still a real feeling. Any light is a relief to the suffocating darkness of night.

I had run into the thick of battle at midnight and was now arriving back at our fortress. Only a few had gone out and only a few now returned.

We were all wounded. I knew mine were deep wounds, but they would heal quickly if I asked for it. There was not time to rest in self-pity. We had to find to the sons and daughters.

Life.

“I went to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately, I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, To put to rout all that was not life and not when I had come to die Discover that I had not lived.” ~ Dead Poets Society ~

Lovely...

Absolute favorite quoted scene from the movie Nickolas Nickleby (a Dickens tale)...

Nickolas: My life collapsed like a house of sticks the day my father died. I clung to my mother and sister, then Smike and Noggs...hoping, waiting, for I knew not what. I knew not what until that day, when I opened my eyes and the darkness was replaced with the sight of your face. It was the island towards which I had been sailing, unguided, my whole life, the dream my father had promised me before I could even imagine its existence. I have been happy for times, little times, since he died...but never at peace. Not until I looked at your face...and saw the universe in order behind it.

Madeline: Nickolas...I feel you know what it’s like to be without happiness. But do you know what it’s like to be afraid of it? To see the world as so conniving, you cannot take pleasure in the appearance of something good...because you suspect...it is only a painted drop behind which other troubles lie. That has been my life. Every good thing has been a trick. Until you. Yet I am afraid to take your hand. What if you cannot or will not save me? I can bear to maltreated by the greedy or the weak, but to be let down by an angel...

Nickolas: I am not an angel. I live as far from that lofty perch as any man. My temper alone, my impatience...well, perhaps I should not list all my faults in case I am too persuasive. You are the one who is so admirably able and strong.

Madeline: I am tired of being strong.

Nickolas: As am I. Weakness is tiring, but strength is exhausting. You see, I cannot save you...for I need saving too.

Madeline: What are you proposing?

Nickolas: Only this. That we save ourselves together.

(Nickolas leans and kisses Madeline)

Madeline: Nickolas, please. Think of the others. People might see.

Nickolas: I don’t care.