The Unwilling Warrior

I thank the hardcore bloggers of Star, for their heartfelt encouragement. They don’t know me and I don’t know them, but they write and it soothes my heart. For my readers, I echo a sentiment from the mission field but with a twist: I’m a Star Wars fan, you wouldn’t understand.

This post is inspired by my SWblog friends, and a product of my melancholy state, but the truth is still there


The Jedi stood, abandoned in a universe of dark, alone and afraid. All that he had fought and bled and cried for had been cruelly snatched away and destroyed. His way of life was outlawed. Devastation was visted upon his family, and only one other had survived. The other, the most ancient, frail, and powerful was walking into the heart of darkness to do battle. Alone. Always now they would be alone, the Jedi felt it in the currents of the Force. His light was dim, and flickering, and fueled only by his discipline and quiet grace. The Jedi was a man beaten, crushed down, and uncertain. He was a shell of the man he had been; all that he was, stripped away, all that he hoped to be, vanished away. Some wounds cut too deeply to ever heal, some scars define who you will be, some betrayals never are forgotten. Espcially when they come from a friend, particularly when they are dealt by a brother.

The Jedi sees his brother, listens to his words. Or rather, the animal that was his brother. It is only a twisted fate and horrible irony that this destroyer wears the face and form of the brother. It would be easier were this creature of hate and rage behind a mask, obsucured. A simple thing it would be if the voice was different, if the eyes could not be looked into. How convienent his task if with every guesture, word, and movement the monster did not resemble the brother. The Jedi watches as his former brother destroyes the very reason for which the betrayal was done, and he is sick. He cannot watch it happen.

“Let her go!”

The command is difficult to voice. Once the sonic waves emanate, they are ignored. The Jedi tries to reason with the creature, and only succeeds because he distracts it. The evil one stalks and spouts forth things the Jedi never thought he could hear that voice say. The pain roars in the darkness, and the Jedi cannot silence that shout. Not with his training, not with what he knows to be true: none of that is a help to him. There is only the Jedi and the pain.

The Jedi makes the decision to ignore the pain, to disregard the hurt, and to lay aside his love. He is still a Jedi, and a thing remains that needs doing. He hates the universe for forcing this upon him, he hates the Force for keeping him alive to face this destiny, and he hates the Dark Side for being the mirror of the dark, though in this shrouded, hateful moment, the Dark Side is much with him.

“I will do what I must.”

Those words spoken by him echo the unwillingness of this warrior to fight. But mere fractions of a moment later, that fight is forced upon him, and he is the embodiement of defense. He is unwilling to be more, and cannot be less. They are more than brothers, the Sith and the Jedi, they are twins, halves of the whole, mirror images. The Sith is feral, raging, and powerful; the Jedi is calm, peaceful, and powerful. In this fight now the Force flows into him, and its presence brings a centre to the storm that brews. The Jedi is able to accept his destiny, and release his hate, his doubt, his disbelief. He releases attachment and his will, and follows the will of the Force.

The fight never seems to end. One blow and parry, one block and thrust, one leap and chase after another. From landing platform, though a hall of dead, to a gantry, to lava flow, and repulsor platform. Impacts of lightsabers clash like shards of hate, the Force is formed as weapons. The Jedi no longer feels the Dark Side within himself, only without. He no longer feels hate, only pity and sorrow. The pain is still there, and always will be. He disengages, and prays that this will be the end.

“Don’t try it!”

He pleads with love, and foreknowledge. The Sith is deluded, and does not listen. He leaps, trying to gain a higher position, but is blinded in his self-importance. The leap is not enough, and the Jedi is horrified to see his lightsaber sweep through both legs and an arm of the Sith. The Sith tumbles down towards the lava flow, and becomes again the brother, if only for a minute.

“You were my brother, Anakin! I loved you!”

The Jedi’s heart is breaking, torn to shreds and ribbons by the pain. The brother becomes again a Sith. The force whispers of what must be done, but the Jedi is unwilling. For the first time in his life, he rebels, he disobeys, and walks away. He will not kill his brother.

The Jedi stood, abandoned in a universe of dark, alone and unafraid. He has faced again the Sith that was his brother, so long ago. The son of the father watches this drama he cannot comprehend. He sees emotions that he does not understand, and hears words without meaning. He cannot, for he does not know his past. The Jedi could not tell him, the pain is still to near, even this twenty years later. And the Jedi was wrong. It is no easier to obey the whisper of the Force. His foe is masked, and the voice is different. He moves and guestures differently, but still the Jedi sees his brother, half a man and burning. He always will, just as there will always be pain. The Jedi has grown, and the Force has matured him. He still has the strength of discipline and quiet grace, but though the opportunity is there, he disobeys a second time. The Jedi raises his lightsaber in salute, and is cut down by his brother’s blood-tinged blade. The Jedi is no more.

The Jedi, the Unwilling Warrior, Obi-Wan Kenobi, is dead.

But that is not the end. The Jedi becomes the Force, and time is meaningless. In the next thought he sees his companion, the once ancient Yoda now ageless, and there appears his brother. The pain he has lived with forever fades and disappears. Anakin has done the impossible and turned from the dark path and joined his soul to the light. Redemption is bought in the salvation of the son. These three, the Jedi, and the Force, appear and look to the son. He is the future now, and they smile upon him.

Light returns to the galaxy of night and the night flees away.

God of my Father

The stomach rumblings spoke
In eloquent tones
Elemental needs to be fulfilled
Fresh on the mind the wonders
Of the God of Creation
A cavern of beauty, hid by darkness
A trek, a look, an appreciation
In a single moment
That stopped the heart
My hip, empty
My waist, devoid
The valuable there was gone
Unknown, unfelt, incomprehensible
“Why?” started to thunder
But repressed those thunderings were
What business had I to question?
A momentary rage, a flash of desperation
I searched, but it was not found
A test
Would I trust God? or descend to unfaithful despair?
My heart said, “Scream! There is no justice!”
“You have been wronged, He does not care!”
But I silenced the unbeliever, forced him to silence
Engraved, I remember the words
Certain I would read them no more,
“For the Lord God Helps Me”
Then went my way rejoicing.
Would I accept the good from God
And not the
A week and more I went
When a package unlooked for came
I hoped against hope, reasoning
In unbelief
All logic was against me, but
God, it seems, is for me
“Therefore I will not be disgraced!”
I rode this Storm, and God showed faithful
Returned what He took
No more no less
But what I have learned, far exceeds
That which I thought I had
And now possess.

Is there anything too difficult for God?

Storm At Sea

The deck rolled beneath my feet like I was trying to walk on a barrel. The constant howl of the ice-cold wind and the slap and pummel of the frigid salt water didn’t help either. I ran from port to starbord trying to secure the ropes. It seemed for each one I tied firm, another ripped free, the frayed ends singing as the ripped back and forth.

Lightning crashed, thunder boomed, and I began to hear an ominous cracking sound coming from the mast. I had long since given up trying to control the rudder, it began to spin out of control. I wouldn’t let anyone else near it either.

The ship pitched violently, and I went down, sliding towards deck’s edge, about to plunge into the seething abysmal sea.

Suddenly, a strong arm grabbed me and I stopped sliding. I looked up into my Captain’s face. Pulling on His strength I stood up, still grasping firmly to His forearm.

“The ship is lost, Sir! What are we going to do?”

He gazed at me impassively, saying nothing. I began to get angry.

“Sir, I don’t understand why we are here! The signs of storm were clear! Your orders to sail in this direction must have been mistaken.”

I started to pull my hand away from His, but the bucking ship made me reconsider. My face was inches from His, yet I yelled to be heard.

“Captain, we must turn back. I see no way ahead! Sir, we must!”

A twinkle showed in His grim eyes, and grin pulled at His serious visage.

“Must we?” His words were quiet, but I could somehow hear them. “What’s your name, sailor?”

It was then I ceased to hear the storm, to feel the rocking beneath me, to heed the waves. I felt ashamed.

My Captain had named me StormRider. This is what I did. Why then should I be afraid? Why should I lose my faith in Him?

I heard Him again, He was asking me a question, gesturing towards the wheel of the ship.

“May I? Do you trust me?”

And I let Him, for I would trust Him to lead me anywhere.

allegorical story for recent happenstance