There is a funny thing in this world. We all strive to be who we are and a time comes when we have reached our pinnacle of understanding and not even legions of angels can show us anything new. We stand firm where our years of living have brought us and strike at what is perceived as a threat. And there are times in that heated battle of perseverance when there is no decree of turning, only a continuation of where we have been brought.
A soul is so fragile, the most tender care is needed when it is handled. If it is bruised, it will cry and yet, live. If it is burnt, it will scream its displeasure. And in its state of agony that soul does not know what to do when hope is offered, but continues on to where it was brought. Who knows, maybe that whisper in the bellowing wind will be heard and that soul's liberation is soon had. As long as hope is hoped, hope will never be lost.
What is a man but a tool along another's path. Perhaps, he is a tool for goodness, even a tool for evilness. Only his master knows. But, this we do know, his praise comes from having done his master's bidding. What more can a soul seek then to please his master. Perhaps, that whisper in the wind will be heard and that soul's liberation is soon had. But, until then, what is a man but a tool along another's path.
In Jesus, there is freedom from the prison which bonds us to another. By His name, the gates have been swung wide opened. "Freedom at last....Freedom at last" says the liberated soul.