“Forgive me, your Highness,” I pleaded as I wept with my head bowed in shame. I had failed. “The enemy was too strong. I am weak, my Lord.” I added.
I thought about the events that led to this moment.
I had just been recruited to the king’s army. More accurately, the king had bought me from my master’s home. Emmanuel, his right-hand man, would train me on the basics of being a soldier, a warrior he called it. You see, I was a slave, I knew nothing about battles let alone living in the palace which was now to be my home. I figured it wouldn’t be long before the King realised I was frail and weak, useless for his army. I was useless to my slave masters, what more to the king could I be? But I did not want to be kicked out. I needed to earn my place in this Kingdom. I had worked with other masters before as a slave, this one could not be any different… I would earn his favour.”
“Peace be with you!” Emmanuel started off. He handed me a large book and said, “No game is played without rules, no battle without a plan. This is the book with the Words of Instruction. Read it and learn it by heart, it has all you need to know. Honestly, it’s mostly about the king. Don’t be afraid to ask me for help, I will explain everything to you.”
I gave my all to the memorisation of the Instructions. I didn’t ask Emmanuel for help though. How would I earn my place if I couldn’t even understand basic instructions on my own? A few days later I went to Emmanuel and told him I was ready for the next step. I told him he could even test me and see that I knew all the instructions he gave me. He took me to the armoury.
A full set of armour was laid before me, it was glorious to say the least. Helmet, breastplate, belt, shield and sword… From the book of Instructions, I remembered they were made of very rare materials… Truth, salvation, righteousness and something about courage, or was it readiness? It didn’t matter, I was ready to win the battle.
I remember seeing Emmanuel’s eyes so full of pity as I left the room. I didn’t let him teach me, I was convinced I would prove myself worthy. [Perhaps I should have let him train me when he offered. Could it be too late for me?]
Soon it was time for battle. It was time to stand firm in my armor. But it didn’t feel enough. Surely it needed a few tweaks to work better. To my helmet of salvation, which was of pure grace, I added works, to my shield of faith, I figured that we can’t always hope for the best. So I added fear and doubt, just to help prepare for the worst. I remember little from the actual battle. I had no authority when I fought. I was overwhelmed by despair. The instructions I had memorized made no sense at that moment. How could they? When I never understood them? When I never truly believed them? I therefore had no weapon. Perhaps I was never meant to win this battle, I am but just a slave. I fell to the wiles of the enemy. I was fading away to a slow death.
Then I saw the king before me, he was clothed with garments of vengeance and a cloak of zeal. His armor had no blemish, it was truly the model from which all of us shared. I saw his face and it hit me, Emmanuel was the king. I had been so foolish. He fought off the enemy and he picked me up as a mother does a child. “Why was he saving a wretched slave like me? I didn’t deserve this? What kind of master was this?” I couldn’t think anymore; I was worn out from battle so I slept in the arms of the king.
The memory faded, I was back again to the throne room, bowing before the king.
“You are already forgiven my child,” the king uttered. “Only, I need you to learn your lessons from this past battle. I let you face it so that you would learn but I will never let you die in battle. You do not need to do anything to earn my favor or my love. I bought you from your slave master, not because you were worthy or strong. No! I know how weak and frail you are. I chose you out of love. You cannot earn my favor. I show mercy to whom I will… I am the King after all.”
His countenance was full of mercy, like a father to a son, he began to counsel me and to encourage me. “I did not choose you just to fight battles. No, in fact, you are not the one who fights but I who fights through you. I am the Mighty Warrior who saves. Yes you are weak, but I am strong. Apart from me you cannot fight in that armor. I am the one who truly wears the armor, with salvation as my helmet and righteousness as my breastplate. I call you to know me, I call for a relationship first with me. Rest in my love first and I will surely train you for the day of battle. You are more than a conqueror.”
I fell on my face in tears, truly I had missed the point. I repented before the King. I remembered the prayer of the psalmist from the Word:
Blessed be the LORD, my rock, who trains my hands for war, and my fingers for battle, he is my steadfast love and my fortress, my stronghold and my deliverer, my shield in whom I take refuge, who subdues people under me ~Psalms 144 : 1 – 2
~Wangechi🌻Mugure🌻
