After a long, hard ride, he walked to the village he was
directed to go to visit. The old man was
tired. The necessity of the trip, the
secrecy that lay behind it and the purpose burdened the old man and had cost
him energy. As he looked back towards
his own life, he knew that this mission was one that could cost him his life,
so he had gotten up in the early hours of the morning, after preparing for his
trip, and made sure that all was well with his own life.
He checked to see if his writings had been properly categorized, checked to see if the dates in his journals had been properly recorded, so whoever would read his writings in the future would be able to reference them to the appropriate time period and events.
Finally, he checked in with his boss to confirm his instructions. He had pleaded with him to reconsider his decision the night before. He had hoped there was still some chance the boss would reverse his decision, even though, deep within he knew his boss had spoken the last word on the situation.
It was in the midnight hours of the night when he received confirmation, and although his aching soul quieted, the answer from his boss created a storm within him, and he got up to go immediately. The decision from his boss was irreversible, and he was told, now is the time for implementation.
- What do you do when you have received an order you would not like to execute?
- How do you deal with those life and death situations, which test your will to live or to die?
- How do you react to the unknown future that lies before you?
Rousing himself out of his lethargy, he walked towards the door, not knowing if this were the last time he would cross over the threshold of his own door.
Guide me, O thou great Jehovah,
Pilgrim through this barren land;
I am weak, but thou art mighty,
Hold me with thy powerful hand:
Feed me till I want no more.[1]
The sun had come up as the old man entered into the city. The market place was crowded. The people trembled, frightened, as they pondered over his appearance in their city. After all, everyone had heard of his disagreement with the King, and they wondered if his appearance meant something terrible was about to happen to their small, quaint, little town.
"Comest thou peaceably?"
"Yes, peaceably: I am come to sacrifice unto the LORD: sanctify yourselves, and come with me to the sacrifice."[2]
The people sanctified themselves, and the old man called out the man and his sons whom he had been chosen to sanctify, and he called them to the sacrifice. He sat before the people waiting on all of the man's sons to appear. The old man knew the order of the procedure for the sacrifice by memory.
- Had he not administered it since he was a boy?
- Had he not been prepared since he had been weaned from his mother's breast to be the oracle of God?
- Had he not implemented the rules and ordinances of the LORD since the first time he had heard his voice?
As they walked towards him, the confidence of the old man shone in his eyes. Surely, it is the first born, he thought. This must be the one. His stature is magnificent. A fine specimen of a man made by God. The old man stood there, wanting to go towards him with the sacred oil. Suddenly, the voice he was so familiar with whispered to him.
"Look not on his countenance, or on the height of his stature; because I have refused him: for the LORD seeth not as man seeth; for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the LORD looketh on the heart."
Open now the crystal fountain,
Whence the healing streams do flow;
Let the fiery, cloudy pillar
Lead me all my journey through:
Strong Deliverer,
Be thou still my strength and shield.[3]
The old man sat there as the man's sons paraded before him. Each with his own beauty was a magnificent specimen. They were warriors who had been in the heat of the battle and survived; warriors who had learned the tactics of war; warriors who knew what it meant to obey their Commander- in- Chief. Yet, they were all rejected. Bright, intelligent, healthy, cunning and talented as they all were, they were rejected!
Frustration was written on the old man's face as he asked, "Are these all your sons?"
The man looked at the old man and said, "There's one more, but he won't do you any good. He only takes care of the sheep, dreams, writes, and plays music the entire day.
"Send for him," the old man said. "The sacrificial offerings will not begin without him."[4]
So, the man sent for his youngest son. It took some time to get him and bring him before the old man, but it did not matter. The old man waited, patiently.
Had he not learned to wait until he heard the command to take action?
Had he not lived his whole life obeying the voice called him so many years ago?
The youngest son ran into the house, red and burnt from the sun. No one had ever demanded his presence. If anything, he was often chased away by his brothers, as they laughingly chided him to go take care of his sheep. Sure, he had inherited their good looks too, but in comparison to them, he was a ruddy dreamer who wrote and read poetry, and played on musical instruments. No man would ever dare to do such things, so they had designated him to a lifetime of sheep herding.
- Have you sometimes asked yourself why you are here?
- Have you let people labeled you into being something that you don't want to be?
- Have you given up your dream because you looked at obstacles you thought were impossible to overcome?
- Have you heard a soft voice within you beckoning you to give him a chance?
"There he is! He is the one I have chosen!"[5] The old man heard the voice say to him excitedly, and he stood up. Walking toward the boy, he took out his horn of oil and anointed the keeper of sheep, the shepherd boy, the dreamer, and the writer as his brothers looked on, and David became the second king of Israel, and thereby, was anointed into direct lineage of our LORD Jesus Christ, the Savior of every person who comes to him.
When I tread the verge of Jordan,
Bid my anxious fears subside;
Bear me through the swelling current;
Land me safe on Canaan's side;
Songs of praises I will ever give to thee.[6]
Bread of Heaven,
Bread of Heaven
Feed me till I want no more.[7]
Ciao,
Pat Garcia
[1] HYMN 99, William Williams. 1773. The BAPTIST HYMNAL. Judson Press, Valley Forge, Pa. 1883. New Edition, March 1920.
[2] First Samuel 16:4-5, The HOLY BIBLE, King James Version. Thomas Nelson Publishers, 1972.
[3] HYMN 99, William Williams. 1773. The BAPTIST HYMNAL. Judson Press, Valley Forge, Pa, 1883. New Edition, March 1920
[4] First Samuel 16:10, THE HOLY BIBLE, King James Version, Thomas Nelson Publishers, 1972
[5] First Samuel 16:12-13, THE HOLY BIBLE, King James Version, Thomas Nelson Publishers, 1972
[6] HYMN 99, William Williams. 1773. The BAPTIST HYMNAL. Judson Press, Valley Forge, Pa, 1883. New Edition, March 1920
[7] HYMN 99, William Williams. 1773. The BAPTIST HYMNAL. Judson Press, Valley Forge, Pa. 1883. New Edition, March 1920
(8) Sunshine courtesy of Photographer and writer, Linda Halpin, New York City, New York
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