Six feet and wear a mask. No justice, no peace! Burn it down! Submit, infidel, or face the swords of Islam. You’re going to die.
I know a thing or two about fear. One doesn’t live a life such as mine without encountering it, and when you rise up in an environment full of bad information about yourself, others, and life generally, the missteps to which you’re subjected will produce any number of suboptimal conditions. Yes, at times you’ll be confused, and sometimes even afraid.
It should help to remember that all emotion—every bit of each—is there to take us farther down the road we travel in this life. An essential article of faith declares us to be works in progress and not fleeting evolutionary accidents. Therefore, it’s a predictable strategy of the enemy seeking to convince us the state of actuality is otherwise.
Every emotional predator is his ally in this. Most of those twisted souls cannot even perceive much less acknowledge their place in the natural (or unnatural) order. Being used as tools, their malevolent patron spirit is content in allowing them to maintain a self-satisfied and egocentric condition while its vessel may endure. Such souls pay no heed to their allotted span, taking existence at face value and travelling unconvinced of any spiritual realm waiting ahead of the terminus in our line of time. The fears they wield in life are ledger entries in an account coming due, and the resultant clarity will not be kind to them.
Fear, along with every emotion, also exists partially for the sake of learning its controls. Each of the feelings we harbor has its benefit and danger, and allowing their progression from impulse to excess is a common and unfortunate aspect of human nature. In that one afterwards draws farther from our Creator’s intent, we can see sin germinates there. We, as faithful souls, are tasked with engaging in continual victories over temptation, and as we’re explicitly instructed to do otherwise, therefore fear itself becomes sin. It follows as no wonder, then, that our enemies and God’s make every attempt to use it against us.
I write political fiction, which aside from the obvious interplay of good and bad actors in office speaks also of broader considerations than the advancement of a given plot. My genre concerns itself with the things it has to say, and there examines all aspects of human interaction. Those episodes are steered by the inclinations of each character, in turn motivated by perspective. The archetypes comprising imaginary people embody the virtues and vices, just as are personalities encountered in what passes for the real world these days. Writing fiction as I do is art imitating life, and done well enough one’s work passes the point where its influence sometimes expands to reverse the dynamic.
Beware of politics—or any influence, really—leveraging the classical vices rather than virtue. Vice is drawn out of the toolbox of the enemy, whose rebellion and lust for mayhem eclipse any rational consideration. Wholesome influences, be they loving parents, mindful educators, inspired pastors, or faithful, ideologically American leaders seek to enhance the general condition of humanity rather than exploit their influence over others for personal gain. If hyperbolic stumps of misguided ambition can advantage themselves by making you afraid, rest in every assurance they will do so, and with a following agenda in mind certain to advance their interests ahead of their constituents or the public trust.
Every step of our journey, light or slogging, is a choice between faithfulness and faithlessness, taken in hope or depression. We are surrounded on every side with a wealth of testimony written in natural law as to what works and what kills. There is no benefit in fear that wisdom does not better provide.
One of the great testaments to this could have been lost to history, but for providence. In World War Two, His Majesty’s ship and a lion of the British navy, the Hood, set itself to confront the terror of the seas flying the flag of Nazi Germany, namely the battleship Bismarck. With no small task before them, the chaplain of the ship gathered the crew onto its great deck to ask them their essential questions:
“God the Father with you, what do you fear?”
“We fear nothing!” came the answer from the crew.
“God the Son with you, what do you fear?” was asked.
Again, “We fear nothing!”
And lastly, “God in His Spirit being with you, what do you fear?”
“We fear nothing!”
The battle following is recorded in history, along with most of the acts of that despicable Reich. Exchanging naval fire, the mighty Hood took an explosive shell from one of the main guns mounted by Bismarck. Received into its powder magazine, the great battleship was killed with nearly every member of the crew who had gathered on deck to renew their commitment to duty so little time before. One, at least, was carried to the surface in a bubble from a suddenly rupturing boiler, and so survived to pass along the lesson you’ve now heard.
They died, yes. But they did not fear, and in that a greater victory than the crew of the Hood might have won at sea was the result.
Spiritual and moral strength was more common a lifetime ago. In too many segments of today’s society, fear has replaced faith, and those in its grip trust in others who proclaim their best interests to address the objects of those fears. It’s unfortunate that often the terror is of contrived circumstances engineered to steer an agenda designed to produce benefits to a few out of the misery of many more.
Be suspicious of those advocating fear and promising to do well by you in exchange for what they ask you to give up in return. You are served by cultivating strength, not weakness. You support yourself in an upright condition by leaning on virtue, not bowing under the weight of vice. You are illuminated by faith, not lost in the darkness of a wandering soul. Remember that one journeys only with a destination in mind, and it cannot be otherwise. You yourself are at the end of that road, and it’s there your Creator will tell you the story of your life in unfolding every mystery. You’re my reader. With every prayer I wish you well along the way, and toward that good end, I’m not afraid to do what I can.
Choose to love. – DA
In production news, the Editress has reached the 30% mark in production editing for my intertwined tales of Ritter at war in subsequent decades. Twenty-Four Hours to Midnight will, God willing, bring Sean, Farrah, Gabir and other characters you’ll remember back for another round. This time, as the tag line promises, it will be for family.