Wednesday, May 18, 2016
The Forgotten Church
Smoke is in the air. The one hope has been forgotten. The truth has fallen into the wrong hands and left us wandering like ants. We are prisoners of war, trying to find any simple thing to keep us alive. At this moment, now that everything is gone, we are the new nation. I think we're the only ones left. The building is filled with people whose minds have been destroyed by the outside world. Everything that was once pure is now left to rot. I don't know what happened. The last thing I saw on the news exploded into what's left. We have not showered in days. There's no way to contact anyone. All of us ended up seeking refugee in this building that's filled with old pictures of missionaries, some of us are black and some of us are white. We have no nation or identity, all we have been taught is that we're servants of the Lord's army. Our mind only knows what these scriptures that we've been reading to pass the time have taught us. I guess we're not of this world but just passing through. There are poor people all around us and children are dying by the minute. So many people have left and wandered off into the warzone with no protection. It doesn't seem like they're coming back. We cannot find them. There's nothing left to blow-up, destroy or kill, but us. Little specs of time seep through our minds as we envision what once was. Each circumstance has lead us to this moment as we join hands. The women who have been raped sit screaming and crying at the alter and the innocent men who have been victims of the law are here to find answers. So many people outside these walls are fighting for power that they have left the widow for dead. The children with no parents roam the streets with incorrect ideologies of the world. They have role models who they cannot get to. There is an old collection plate on the floor in the corner and the dirt that we once walked on is now on our faces. A dark cloud sits over us as we hold hands and pray. A mirror falls from the ceiling and shatters on the ground as a small earthquake brings us back to reality. All that was once alive and moving is now gone forever. We are now a third world, desolate place, with only old knowledge and what is left of the scriptures. When the noise from the war has died down, we open the doors and see a field of bones and people trying to get in. What has man done? All that was once glory is now destroyed, all that was built by sweating hands is now washed away in blood. We sought refuge in this lost old building. If I remember it well, it was once called a church. Where do we go from here, and who do we worship now? The prophecy has been fulfilled and the only thing we have to look forward to is heaven.