Thursday, 31 August 2017

A Stand

The lone figure emerges from the mist, his long white beard blows in the wind.
A peculiar sight for guard and prisoners alike. Soon more emerge as the old man advances. 7,14,21...soon a hundred unarmed saints. "What do they want?" "Who are they?" "Are these the followers of Jesus?" "Surely not, or they like others would sing louder as screams echo from death train." "No, no my brother it is them." "Why have they come?" The lone figure pushes gunmen aside. "Can't go in there!" Guards cry. Heeding them not he stands in the midst of the prisoners. Eyes of surprised prisoners, Eyes of dumb struck guards, Eyes of bold congregation standing at the gate."What will he do?" "What can he do?" "Tomorrow to death camp we go." But then...
Lifting up holy book he roars prophetically the words of Ruth 1:16,17. A thunder of applause within and outwith  the gates. Gates that will not prevail.
Guards disband for the Word of the Lord has been spoken. Never again do they return, All because a few made A STAND to save children of the promised land.