{Waging War}

I set my foot on the path and stepped into the sunlight, hoping an afternoon walk would clear my mind of the busyness and emotional stress it had been under for days. Normal days, but the weight has a way of pressing down at times -- decisions, questions, doubts, delays. 

Breathing deeply, my pace was slow at first. My senses had become numb, so I asked the Lord to awaken my spirit.

Lord, show me beauty.

As soon as I looked up, a host of purple irises danced before my eyes, their bold faces reaching confidently toward the sun. I moved on, and again my eye caught the purple -- this time a merry bed of bluebells. My pace quickened as I continued to see the purple splashed throughout the neighborhood. The lilacs, the periwinkle, the rhododendrons and over and over again, the irises.

I wondered over the significance of the purple. Ah, yes. Royalty. And then the reminder from my King, "I am King over all. Over your schedule, over your emotions, over your fears and doubts and questions, over everything within your control and over everything beyond your grasp. I am King."

Allowing my mind to develop the story, I was swept from the pavement into another world. At first my King was seated majestically on His throne and I found joy in being the demure, pampered princess, robed in beauty. But no sooner was I delighting in my palatial home than I was swept onto an intense battlefield, my ivory, floor-length gown sullied and torn, hair streaming in the wind, eyes frantic. I held a weapon in my hands -- a stone-encrusted sword -- and the enemy advanced from all sides. But that sword! It was too heavy. The tip of it dragged across the battlefield as I desperately clutched the hilt, begging for strength to lift my weapon and fight.

Almost immediately, my King was at my side. This time, King Jesus was not seated on His throne but astride a powerful white horse, His own gown dipped in blood. The epitome of awesome rage, fury and glory, He swept me up in one strong, jealous grasp. I dropped my sword and clung to His chest as His horse reared. He didn't require a sword. The enemy was already silenced in defeat at the sound of His Name.

We were still on the battlefield. But I was at peace.

My feet touched the pavement once more, and I turned toward home as yet another chorus of purple irises greeted me, triumphant and victorious.