Thursday, March 10, 2011

Death Swarm pt2

Before the death swarm laid me waste, like barren dessert or parched and dry riverbed, I didn't realize how deep my roots penetrated the earth. Down deep in the soil I sensed life movement. Ever so small, threadlike root fibers were moving, drawing nourishment, living, not dead. In the darkness and noise of the death swarm the power of clattering jaws could not reach my roots.

The sensation of life is faint and fragile. Faint, fragile, my clutch on life continued for seasons. I knew that I needed to protect my survival. I feared that anything could come, steal away the little I had left. Oh, again just existence, afraid, afraid that even a small storm would snatch away the last, weak, and desperate signs of life. Stubble and death haunted me.

My end did not come about, though at times it would have been easier to give in and allow disease and death to find their completion, their ultimate triumph. Yet, I knew, No, my roots knew, that life must find its way back to the surface. Slowly working towards the surface, life is surviving, growing.  I am still filled with fear. Fear of the paralyzing buzz filling my ears. Fearing I could never survive another attack. For fear has clamped a vice around my throat, causing my stomach to churn. Realization also brings another fear. Realization that I must live, but in living would have to find some sense in fresh horror.

Questions begin, unanswerable, haunting and without end. Questions pile up all around me. Soon even the questions block my vision. I argue and argue, I search and search, the answer of, no answer haunts me. The swarm, clacking of jaws, stubble, despair, and now, life, why God?

I must find that resurrection is taking place. How long it takes, meaningless, how much pain, meaningless. If it takes a day or a lifetime my resurrection will be complete and whole. When that understanding finds place, my questions begin to cease. Understanding brings about the ending of the questioning nightmare. Not the understanding of all things. For me, a better understanding of the deep issues of living, not mere existing. The issues of pain, suffering, despair, hopelessness, yes, even longing for death, all take on new purpose and meaning.

The death swarm moves about freely, searching for prey. Guided by some evil reckoning, it senses the weak or susceptible. An such life on this cosmic orb is potential feed. Hundreds, thousands, yes, millions of unsuspecting, tender living plants are targets of the evil swarm.

I will always cringe at the buzz, images may always fill or cloud my vision. I know the potential that comes with the noise. But, there are lands filled with the unsuspecting, the innocent, the naive, lives that have not heard the buzz or clacking. The buzzing and clacking that brings stubble, debris and death to a land once fertile.

Must they wait helpless, unsuspecting, ignorant of the death swarm that moves about so freely? I survived, would they? My roots held my life. Do they have roots that go deep? My roots speak of my Creator who sustains, nourishes, resurrects. What do they have?  When the swarm comes upon them, and it will, will they survive? And, what about the young and tender, just breaking through and reaching, stretching sun-ward. Enjoying sun, drinking in the gentle rains as they fall fro their Creator's carefully designed canopy. Many of them will fall to the clacking and the buzz. They will have no idea of the sound that approaches them. No idea how one turns to millions. How clacking of jaws and buzz of wings leads to death and desolation.

I will tell of my survival. I will tell of my Creator's power deep within my roots. Yes, tell of His life that kept me alive. His life force, living in the fibers and threads of my existence. I responded to His great desire to see me become. I responded to His timeless plan to resurrect me to a new sense of being whole and complete. Oh, that I would sing a song of my Creator's grace. A song I could have never given voice to before that great and terrible day.

I will tell of my story. Some will listen, sadly some will have no understanding of my message. You that understand, in some way, the death swarm has come near you. The buzz, demonic clattering jaws, all wanting your death. Darkness, a great and thick darkness, overcame you. You despaired, cried, even welcomed your own ending. But, your Creator, your God, had, has, will always have, a greater design for you.

Will you join me, join my voice and spirit, proclaiming to all of creation the resurrection that our God gifted us with? The message and song of today is so different from yesterday. The song of tomorrow is designed to be different than the one of today. Come and join me as we proclaim victory over the death swarm.

I wrote this piece during one of my darkest seasons. For me the death swarm was despair and an utter overpowering sense of hopelessness. If I had to define, Death Swarm, it would mean any influence that attacks your soul, in subtle beginnings or ravenous flood. Millions of wonderful people live with the life and joy devoured from their soul. Despair, hopelessness, anxiety, fear, anger, many are the names that the death swarm uses.


  1. hmm. Think that I will be candid elsewher.

  2. Poetry excellence. It's so visual. Jesus at your roots, a glimmer of life, that after a seasons (or several) invades the swarm and brings new life. The end is always miraculous but the number of seasons is never understandable.

    God's blessing on you.