Trigger Warning: Contains sin, personified anger, personified bad thoughts, personified selfishness, brutal death, and war.
Dear Sin,
This is my act of war. The first of many to come. Yes, I may cry over the way you terrorize me at night, but in the morning I forget. I may promise myself to change in the front pew, but by Monday that promise has vanished. But this-- this is official. This is something that I will never forget. This is my act of war.
You will die. You know you will. You hold out hope like a dog looking for scraps, but you will never survive. I will win. No, not me. My Commander will win. The One who orders me to hate you. The One who orders me to resist you. The One who orders me to fight you. He is far greater than you will ever be.
You have many ways to plague me, to twist me, to hurt me. All will be gone by the end of this, I'm sure. But for now, I will fight with a mighty battle cry.
Anger. He stomps through the alleys, the shadows, the tunnels, raging through my day, catching me in the most unexpected moments. He causes me to yell and to fume. He makes me drive wedges between my siblings and me, dishonor my parents, say mean things, snap like a twig. He riles my inside like a raging river, like a storm of ice longing to hurt. Every. Single. Day. But now, I attack him. My Commander is crafting peace and gentleness to drink in and cool my spirit. He has given me a sharp, double-bladed sword. This monster with yellow teeth to snap, ragged ears to redden, torn vocal box to yell-- His blood will drip from its gleaming edge, his head will lay at my tired feet by the end of this. I will not be taken over by his white hot madness forever.
Bad Thought. Ah, now she is a crafty witch. She has many sisters who I adore- Idea and Good Thought, to name a few. Bad Thought slinks into my room in the darkest nights when my brain is tired, torturing me. She causes me to worry and fret. She causes me to hate. She causes me to think about your bidding. Her words slither in my brain like a snake and poison me. But no more. My commander is crafting self-control for me to wear like a brace and heal my broken body. He has given me tools to build a wall around my heart and mind, impenetrable to even this woman. He has given me a bow to sling around my shoulder. She is a monster, with a shadowing figure that wisps in the wind. And I will notch an arrow in her throat and watch her gurgle to her death by the end of this. She will not poison me forever.
Selfishness. It's odd how such a petty person can manipulate people by the thousands. He can make me disregard even my beloved Commander, who has saved me from many dangers. He convinces me that what I want is more important than reading my Commander's Book. More important than talking to my Commander. More important than serving my Commander's people. He is always beside me, nudging my heart towards the comforts I so easily grab hold of. He toys with my emotions, yanking me between places and people, between desires, spinning me around until I don't know what is right and what is wrong. But my Commander is crafting me love and patience to wear on my eyes like spectacles and clear my blurry vision. He has given me a knife to keep with me always. I will tear into Selfishness’ flesh and skin, and plunge my knife into his beating heart by the end of this. I will not be manipulated by him forever.
There may be times I lose a battle. When Anger can rile up my spirit. When Bad Thought can poison my mind. When Selfishness can nudge my heart. I am a weak person— you know this. But my Commander is a mighty Man. He has defeated every person to come up against Him. He has fought valiantly, leading the charge in many wars. He has scattered our enemies once and He will do it again. Yes, there may be times I lose this battle, but He has won the war.
With hate,
Savanna
Word Count: 747 w/ TW “So then, brothers, we are debtors, not to the flesh, to live according to the flesh. For if you live according to the flesh you will die, but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live.For all who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God. For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, “Abba! Father!” The Spirit Himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs—heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with Him in order that we may also be glorified with Him.” -Paul (Romans 8:12-17)
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