Creak, swish, creak, swish...
Methodic, slow, easy, slumber inducing, the cradle rocks back and forth, back and forth.
Creak, swish, creak, swish... momentum slowing, gently swaying, stilling now, stopping. Stopping.
The silky lash rests on the placid cheeked face. Serene and angelic, he lies there, forgetful of the fight of the minute before. Forgetful of the fact that every ounce of his body was pitted in the warfare against sleep. Forgetful that each rending wail had screamed his defiance of the enemy, that devious enemy--Sleep.
He sleeps. He succumbs. The unclenched fist and deep even breath hail the victory. The shuddering hiccups gradually subside--stilled to slumber by the rocking of the cradle, the monotony of repetition.Sleep has used the cleverest of his tactics, stealth and comfort. And Sleep has won. Unconscious of the battle lost, the wee one slumbers. Pleasantly dreaming of cotton candy mountains and friendly teddies, he is clueless to the fact that he is firmly in his enemy's grasp. No memory of the fight warns him that he may have lost this one. The corner of his lip twitches and a peaceful smile unravels across his face.
The cradle rocks. Side to side. Side to side. The infant child is replaced by a multitude of people. People to whom the fish symbol represents something. People who acknowledge a deity as Master of their lives. People who've sharpened steel on steel against just such a foe as this. People who are poised and waiting for the enemy to ride up and proclaim himself "Error". The battle plan is laid out. Such a contest will be brief and to the point. We are ready. We gasp as we think of how our depraved society is falling prey, their infantry dwindling as the Enemy conquers, but we rest assured that WE will never fall into such a trap as they.
The cradle rocks.
We cry out.
The cradle rocks.
We protest.
The cradle rocks.
We shake our heads.
The cradle rocks.
We pause.
The cradle rocks.
Eyelids droop.
The cradle rocks.
Breathing slows.
The cradle rocks, and...
Wait, Church! We cannot sleep! We must not sleep! That's him! The Enemy didn't come announced. He just is, and he is here. Stealth and Comfort, Apathy, and Self, He goes by many names. Why haven't we recognized him before this? Could it be that Deception is another of his names? Is it possible that "Enemy" is able to deceive even the most intellectual Christian?
We don't want to believe it. We shake our heads. That means it isn't true, right? We won't believe and it won't be so, we convince ourselves. The more adamant we are that it isn't so will make it much less likely that it is so, perhaps.
We shake our heads. The cradle rocks.
The fists unclench, the heartbeat slows.
But, what if it is so?
What if we've been stilled to intoxicating slumber by the very one we've sharpened our swords against?
What if we are prostrated, helplessly and unconsciously in the territory of our foe? What if, even now, he chuckles as he plans our decisive end? Then what?
Then do we sleep? Do we close our eyes? Do we allow ourselves to allow the dictates of our society to disarm us?
What good is it to watch if we are already blindfolded by deception?
The Church is in the cradle. Only God can keep each one of us as we seek His strength to prevent the slumber.
