War

We are always at war. It did not begin with a Bush, but a Tree. Since eating of the tree, that day, in a Garden — We have been at war.

We are at war with ourselves, our passions, our perversions, our weaknesses. Not being very successful in this campaign, we set our sights on another arena: Our neighbor.

We wage war on our neighbor, because we are too weak to save our souls.

Yet the battle for our soul rages on. We may not believe it precious enough to fight for. But the Enemy does. We see his attacks, the effects, the decay.

The Enemy’s ever present visions may tempt us with blindness to all but death.
(He is the original Terrorist.)

But one death reigns supreme: the One that also views our soul — yours, mine — as precious. Peace begins with this Man. That Tree. Another Garden. And amazingly … Life.

Guard your peace. Be faithful!

And may Paradise consume us.