esson 13b: Sword Eight and Sword Nine

   
pon reaching the moor, I see that it is swampier than it appeared from the hill. The going is difficult and my progress is slow. Finding a decent-sized patch of dry ground, I sit to rest and refuel. Observing my surroundings, it seems I am stuck on this small island of higher ground. As my body rests, my mind considers other ways in which I am 'stuck' in my life. A quote comes to mind:

   "The word of sin is restriction. ... Lover, if thou wilt, depart! There is no bond that can unite the divided but love. All else is a curse."

   I know that restrictions in my life are only in place through my own agreement and choice. Sometimes one must sacrifice for larger benefits. I *choose* to restrict myself to one lover, and am bonded to him for life. I am restricted from daily interaction with my family, because I chose to join (and hopefully also to make) a new family. My movements are restricted by my choice of public over private transportation, for the health of the environment. And even my free time is restricted. I choose to work full-time, and I have a wonderful job that I wouldn't trade for the world. All of my restrictions are self-imposed, voluntary sacrifices, and undo-able at any time. I've never been shy about 'departing' when restrictions came from outside. And I rise and depart now, plunging ahead into the watery swamp. The water is not so deep after all, and not unbearably cold.

   The afternoon in wearing on as I finally reach real solid ground. I remove my shoes and socks and spend the next hour or two drying out as much as possible in the rays of the descending sun. Before the light it totally gone, I get on the road. This simple dirt road through the countryside feels to me like the greatest luxury in all civilization--dry, even and purposeful (i.e. leading somewhere). Even with only a sliver of a moon to light my way, I travel easily.

   The read leads to a stockade, and I am mortified by severed heads mounted on top. A moat surrounds the stockade, and I see a sword floating in it. How a sword can float is beyond me, and I think of the phrase: "Keep your head above water." There were times when I had trouble doing that, when I felt I was in a deep pit, with no way of pulling myself out on my own. I needed a hand from higher ground. Now *I* an the one on higher ground. So thinking, I lift the sword out of the moat, and vow to always trust the Most High, that He always provides a way out.