I had a daydream where I was riding a mighty steed in a hard run. The mighty steed's mane and tail whipped wildly in the wind as did my heavy hooded cloak. I am making my way to the Little Church of the Wildwood where I would dine at a banquet feast as well as to lay down my heavy pack upon the Alter of Prayer. Afterwards I am looking forward to a more leisurely ride home. The songbird of Hope would be singing Joyfully within my heart. I would feel a glow...
However, the daydream becomes more sinister as my steed is wildly charging forward in a heavy sweat. I am frantically holding on as well as holding onto the Sword of the Lord. The church isn't like the one of the Wildwood. This one is broken down and is vandalized by man's own message and agenda. A heavy darkness the air and a sticky fog fills the brain. The Word of God is betrayed and deface. It is a war to getting back to our first love...
I weep as I am surface from my daydream.... God's Word is the Truth, the Life, the Way I must hold too. All I need is written in His Book. I never thought I would have to be a crusader of love for His Word to my own people and my own place...
The Church has One Foundation
Long with a scornful wonder,
We saw her sore oppressed
By schisms rent asunder,
By heresies distressed.
Yet saints their watch were keeping
To hail a brighter day,
When God should stop their weeping,
Take their reproach away.
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