...a crooked world...

It's a little late for me to begin posting, but I feel compelled to type nonetheless...

As I sit here, pondering what to say, I happen to glance out the window to my left to see a hooded figure directly across the street from me. I quickly shut off the moniter of my computer lest I be seen by the mysterious man. I peek my head above the windowsill, just enough so that only my eyes and nose are showing. I watch him... He seems nervous and preoccupied. He jumps down from the steps of the house and stands at the edge of the sidewalk, facing the street (and, if he had looked up, directly facing me!). His quick, repetative glances left to right tell me that he's waiting for someone, something. He's on the guard, trying very hard to be in control of his surroundings, although I can't help but feel as I watch him that he knows something much bigger is in control, something much darker than this dimly lit block of the hood. A moment later and he's bounding back up the steps and into the house, leaving the door wide open in the night. He emerges shortly, holding something that I cannot see, and returns to his sentinal position. He looks left, he looks right, and I can't help but follow his gaze. I see no one, nothing in the darkness. I almost jump when I look back to him, for another shrouded character has joined him at his post. His back is to me, and the two engage in a short, animated conversation, during which the object procured by the sentinal is passed to the messenger. I know he's a messenger of some sort because the sentinal points to the left as if instructing or warning the other. For a brief, hair-raising moment, I feel eyes on me and fear that I've been spotted in my perch. I duck, hiding, fearful of reprecussions. To my relief, the two carry on, and I can watch again without worry. Their conversation abruptly ended, the messenger puts his head down and takes off to the left at a brisk pace--but not lending to an image of fear. He, too, wills to be in control of his environment. The sentinal goes back to the house, looks over his shoulder one last time, left and right, and then disappears inside. The street is left in it's empty silence once more, and I feel strangely alone.

After watching this confusing scene unfold, it strikes me that I can be so close to a world of such darkness, and yet so removed from it. Here in this house, I feel completely safe, almost untouchable. Whether or not that is a dangerous attitude, I do not know. If I had seen anything of the sort even a year ago, it would have led to penetrating thoughts of fear. Now I see the horror in the world around me, and I am not afraid. No, I'm not at the point where I am willing to walk out into that danger, but knowing it exists holds no horror for me now. It is not man who is my enemy (Eph. 6:12)...

I would write more on this topic, but it is dark, and I know all too well that only the Lord deserves to be dwelt upon. Even though this world is enslaved to a sin far too great to be properly discerned by man, I know the One who holds the key to death and Hades (Rev. 1:18). In Him alone will I put my trust.