A Wee Story

Once upon a time there were two young farmers. Both men were strong and able and had a desire to serve their country. Because a war was raging at the time both men went off to the war. They each found a company to join, and this morning they went forth to battle with high expectations of victory and plunder. Because of their origins and ignorance neither man had armor nor weapons but they hoped they would pick them up during the battle; their companies had never lost a battle. So with expectations high they fell into rank and went off worshiping. Sooner than either man would have liked, they were engaged with the shadowy enemies. Each man found himself cut off from his unit and fighting alone. The shadowy forms rather than killing them circled around the poor men, menacing and intimidating them until they gave up any attempt to fight and lay quivering on the ground at the feet of their enemies. Not until the end of the day when the rest of the company had put to flight the enemies did the poor farmers arise from their deplorable state and slowly make their way back to camp. With guilt and shame ringing in their hearts both men entered the camp. They avoided the eyes of their victorious companions and went straight to their commanding officers to offer their resignations.
Until now both men’s stories have been exactly the same. Here is where similarity stops. The first man arrived at the tent of his colonel and with tears in his eyes told the tall, handsome, perfectly dressed officer all his faults. He poured out to the officer all his failures, his utter inability to battle the enemies and upon bended knee this farmer humbly handed in his resignation and offered to give his service to the nurses and cooks back at camp. With kindly eyes the officer raised up the man and said “your desire to be in this company is more important to me than your failures.” With Shakespearian tongue and Caesarian inspiration the officer raised the man from the ashes and handed the now smiling farmer back his resignation papers. The officer sent the man back to his barracks worshiping afresh, confident of victory and willing again to go forth to the battle. The next day, this man vigorously joined the front ranks of his company. Because of the previous nights encouragement he now felt like he could conquer anything. After he had left his commanders tent he had spent the night in worship of God and dwelling on inspiring thoughts of victory. As the enemy approached, he ran ahead and threw himself into the depths of their ranks feeling as though victory could be gained by bravado alone. The shadowy forms were not impressed and again cut him off from his company, but this time his company had not the time to free him. As soon as he was surrounded, the farmer’s courage faltered, and he fell to his knees and begged for mercy. The previous nights joys and hopes seemed eternities away. His feelings had failed him. The enemy granted no mercy. They slew him. He died a coward, fearing the demons who surrounded him. He died unloved and unprotected by the officer who has promised him so much, who has inspired the feelings that killed him.
Now what of the other man? Well, he went to his officer, a rough looking miniature mountain with a sword like Attila’s in his belt and a shield on his back which Ajax would have envied. Before this imposing figure the second farmer knelt and with fear in his voice he told the commander of his fear and his failure to fight the enemy. He confessed his lack of courage and his ignorance in going to war. As he gave over his resignation to the hand held out to receive it he felt his heart break, for he knew he was handing in his soul. The officer looked over the papers with a slight frown and upon reaching the bottom He scowled a bit and showed the man the last line on the page, which read,

“This day I sell myself eternally to God almighty in return for the promise of His love"
Farmer II

The officer looked at the man kneeling before Him and said, “you are not permitted to leave.” Then turning, He beckoned him to follow. He led the sad farmer to a strange place deep in the woods and said, “learn from me and I will teach you deep and hidden things.” So saying he unslung the shield and sword and began to teach the young man the art of war. He beat him hard, He taught him pain, He wore him to the point of complete abandon. As the training grew more intense the farmer began to love these sessions. He knew that it was the pain of training that would save him from the far greater pain of dishonor, defeat, and death. From the ashes of the farmer’s first defeat there was awoken a passion for learning. From the fire which was dead sprang a life dependent on the training of its Master. Renewed was his blade that was broken. The enemy had been dethroned. Not by a desire, not by a worship session, not by a retreat, not by one good spirit filled experience, but by the presence of God’s refining fire had the farmer been the fire which he had learned to love. Many months later, when the officer sent the farmer out to war again, he went forth equipped with the tools and the knowledge needed to wield the tools and defeat the demons before him. There is no shadow that can defeat a man who has been armed with the weapons of angels and the knowledge of the cherubim.

Moral of the story: I am not sure, decide and tell me what it ought to be.