Sandstorms

"Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his might. Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For we are not contending against flesh and blood, but against the principalities, against the powers, against the world rulers of this present darkness, against the spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places. Therefore take the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand. Stand therefore, having girded your loins with truth, and having put on the breastplate of righteousness, and having shod your feet with the equipment of the gospel of peace; besides all these, taking the shield of faith, with which you can quench all the flaming darts of the evil one. And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God."

- from Ephesians 6:10-17

I haven't been able to write lately, or really do much of anything other than my daily obligations. I believe this is because I have spent too much time thinking, too much time staring out the window at the bare branches of the trees, the empty plains, watching how the light and darkness come and go with the sun. I am in the middle of the desert, alone, and I have forgotten to cry out to God.

It was by chance that I was the reader on Sunday for this particular Epistle. It was a matter of logistics in the choir - I had only one bass and three sopranos, so I asked the bass if we could switch. I didn't even look at the reading beforehand. I just went downstairs, received a blessing and began the Prokeimenon - "The Lord is my strength and my song . . ."

I began the reading slowly, so as not to stumble over the words, but I did, because I was so engaged in their power that I couldn't manage their pronunciation. "For we are not contending with flesh and blood, but against the principalities . . ." Yes, too often I think my struggle is simply flesh and blood. If I concentrate hard enough I can be something else, feel something else - I alone am in control of my life and my emotions. I forget about that great struggle for my soul. I forget that I need God, that without faith and prayer I have no armor with which to shield myself from the fiery darts of evil.

I stand in the midst of the sandstorm, grains of the earth filling my mouth and ears and nose, the terrible winds encircling my body so that I cannot move. This is the time, this is the time to cry out with all my strength to God. I am not asking to be delivered from the sandstorm, only that I will be given the strength to endure, to fight that good fight to the end.