There was a girl. She was a fighter.
Yet, she chose to contain her battles and warfare to only those who were of the dark spirit realm. Instead of contending against those in the mortal realm, with whom she had only small acquaintance, she contended upon her knees of faith; in prayer.
One morning, she arose in glorious splendor: a new day shone forth with potential wonder. But, no sooner had she opened the eyes of her consciousness, then did she suffer terrible blows from malice and anxiety. She almost crippled.
Being born of warfare, this was not unfamiliar to her. Contending for peace was a well-practiced battle. She pressed in.
Carrying on with the chores of the day, for the physical realm is mastered by Time and must be walked through, she found comfort in knowing that Time was kindly to her in this battle, for it would eventually be over. Yet, still, the weight of malice and anxiety pressed upon her relentlessly. Breathing became difficult. Faintness tingled on the fringes of her mind.
She called for help.
There was another, whom she knew, that held her battle grounds as valuable. He, too, contended in his own warfare, far away. Yet, in heart and spirit, they often came together as one.
She cried out to him.
“I need a second, to stand beside me as I press in, for the weight in this moment is too much for me to bear alone.”
And he came, silently and solid, he stood by her side and pressed in about her heart to hold off the destruction of Malice and the deception of Anxiety.
The atmosphere of their breath, heavy breathing in the exertion of their contending, was born out of the atmosphere of heaven. Their prayers for each other, as words upon their hearts, seeped out of their souls like golden mist, to surround and shroud them in comfort and Grace.
All weapons used against them dissolved. The Blood of Jesus Christ dripped anew upon the warriors and all darkness that reached out to touch them, felt the acid effects of such Love.
The Warrior two stood united, at peace, and smiled as their enemy was made impotent.
Then the girl had an idea,
“A song of praise and a chorus of worship, to Almighty Elohim, is what I have to offer up in thanksgiving for this victory.” And she set her heart to sing.
But her companion ginned cheekily and replied,
“It’s not all you have.” As he nodded to the prisoners bowed before them.
With victorious delight, the companions bound and brought forth their enemies. They walked them to the Throne of Grace.
“These are all we have to offer, Elohim,” his weary voice pronounced.
She agreed with him, adding,
“Along with our praise and worship, Almighty Father of Love,”
And together they humbled themselves before the Creator and surrendered,
“These gifts of Malice and Anxiety, we give to You. Amen.”
The Creator smiled His glorious smile of attentive adoration. His Love poured upon His warriors as a Niagara of the Heavens. He laughed and reached out to touch the dark spirits of Malice and Anxiety.
They, the darkness, looked up in fear and sorrow. How many centuries had they run amok, devastating the works of the Creator. Surely a great evil was about to befall them at His hands. Much evil would be lashed upon them from their master in Hell, were they to return to him empty handed. What more horrors would come from the Hand of The Holy God?
Elohim shifted in His seat, and reached down to his lost children, declaring,
“We love All of Our creation. Be restored to your original created purpose, if you will.”
Anxiety immediately transformed into a glorious being of glittering Light. No longer anxiety, but PEACE was the name written upon his heart. He stared at himself in wonder and wept with joy! Falling to his knees he cried out,
“Father, oh Father, You are most Glorious in Your salvation. Take me into Your heart. I am Yours.
Malice stared in horror. She shook her head, unable to believe such a miracle might happen. She gazed up, her open face of darkness seared by the Holiness she looked upon. The blinding Light ate away at her form and she trembled, whimpering,
“He… hel…help my un-belief.”
The Father leaned down lower and touched a whisp of his Spirit, as a finger, onto the brow of the wretched being.
She crumbled. The dark outer shell that surrounded the emptiness of her soul, shattered and disintegrated as a pile of sand. And Malice was no more.
But rising up, out of the dusty ashes, was the most glorious wonder either of the two warrior companions had ever seen. Mercy rose-up as a phoenix, in new life. Yet, not a babe, vulnerable and weak. Mercy stood before them in full strength, wings spread out wide enough to embrace the whole world.
And Mercy wept. Her tears were the healing of the nations. She took to flight and soared out upon the darkness of the world. In every place where mischief took hold, she wept upon hurting souls. Her wings beat the atmosphere of Heaven upon the Earth like a hurricane, blowing the dust and wreckage of past agonies aside. Her tears fell like rain and seeds of faith, tiny seeds that were lost and forgotten, suddenly burst forth into Life; a renewal of Springtime had come!
The warriors held each other’s hearts close before parting again to their regular wars. No matter what contended against them, they knew the victory was theirs. But it would never stop there, ever again. Victory over darkness was no longer enough.
They had seen the Miracle of Heaven. New Life, where darkness once held its reign, was now the order of the day. Night is done. Spring is here. A New Day is Dawning.