Fight For the Weak Ones

The freedom fighters rallied, they encouraged, knowing they had to stand up and stand out. I joined the people that said, No, I will not, all the while noticing that while they said no to certain things, they often said yes to others. The slippery slope was greased and steep, and few managed to avoid the deadly drop. 

Oppression is age old. The rich and powerful have hungry eyes, and greedy grasping hands. Once they have a taste of champagne and caviar, once they have gold plated their facets, toilets, wives and children, they get a hankering for something a little more refined, a little more precious and sinful ... they desire domination, over everything and everyone that lives and breathes, and their refrain is, Mine, mine, all MINE! What better, than humans as prey, the creatures created in the very image of God?

The Bible is explicit, we are to care for orphans and widows ... are you, dear reader, contributing to the easing of suffering, of the most vulnerable amongst us? 

I weep as I type, over what I witness. So many voices speaking as one, shielding, excusing, personally, publicly, protecting perpetrators, while the blood soaked earth cries for vengeance: 

And he said, What hast thou done? the voice of thy brother's blood crieth unto me from the ground (Genesis 4:10)

And they cried with a loud voice, saying, How long, O Lord, holy and true, dost thou not judge and avenge our blood on them that dwell on the earth? (Revelation 6:10) 

Sadly, I see this, the turning away of would be disciples, that will not willingly die for The Way of Christ:

From that time many of his disciples went back, and walked no more with him (John 6:66)

I approach the bottom of the slippery slope, observing those that are coated in the slick grease. They attempt to gain footing and take steps that will not land them on their tailbones or faces. As they try to lift themselves, they look to others that may be standing, someone to hold onto that will pull them up too; but the grease, it prevents firm grasping, and clothing is beyond buttery. 

I hope, I pray, that they see what is close at hand: a firm foundation that will keep them upright, keep their eyes on what is solid and true, so that they can refocus their eyes. The Word of God is within reach, will they take hold, pray, ask God to de-slick them, keep them from the precarious slippery slope that incapacitates, that had them preoccupied with worldly things, rather than being tender hearted toward the weak ones that cannot defend themselves? 

In other words, will they walk the road less travelled, the narrow path that leads to God and ultimately, to heaven, or will they continue on the broad road that leads to destruction? 

Lastly, I have to tell you dear reader, that when I hear excuses made for grown men and women, that ought to know right from wrong, truth from lies, integrity from deception, my soul shutters in utter horror and disbelief. What I know from seeing this, is that people are not grieving over the injured, the wounded, the souls that are in deep sorrow ... What I know is there is sympathizing and fraternizing with the enemy, and I pray to God they can hear the blood, crying out from the ground, as I do, for justice. 

Blood, oceans and oceans of innocent blood, washing ashore. Blood, fields of crimson, soaking into the earth, layer upon layer until there is no where we can step without our soles, our souls, being coated and thickened with life taken and stolen from the weak ones. 

Can you see it, can you hear it? I pray to God you can, and that it makes you wretch.