I Will Go

All of life is darkness, was darkness, will continue to be darkness.

The black of night is all you know, and for all you could care, the black of night is all that will ever be. It is all darkness. Though you have eyes, you see not, for there is nothing to see. You stumble in the darkness and hide your deeds.

Yet, one day, you fancy something glimmers; and with the swelling words of a divine nature, the glimmer grows. The words are almost incomprehensible, and yet you can hear the light in those words as clearly as you can see it glow. The words are what bring the light; and from the words comes one word.

From the darkness comes a beam of light. And though the darkness tells you to turn away, you embrace the light; you will not look away. For a moment, the light is all you can see; in a marvelous moment, the darkness is gone, and the world becomes colors; for colors are the divisions of light. And once you see it, you must lose yourself in it, for losing yourself is exquisite in comparison to the agony of maintaining yourself in the darkness.

And as a result, the stunning scarlet of love, the firm gold of faith, the brilliant sapphire of hope; all of these and more you possess in ever-increasing measure. The light becomes your everything. The beautiful word that created the color creates a light within you.

The darkness is driven out; and though it tries to return, it cannot, for the darkness cannot put out the light. It is ever-burning; no matter how low it may fall, it will always be light.

And the light that is your everything speaks to you and calls your name, and you answer. You follow the light. All that is within you must have the light; because you were made for it. In the darkness, you were content to sit and play in the dirt. You were content with darkness. But once the light has been shown to you, the thirst for that golden beam drives you, for only in the light can you find fulfillment. For in the dark you ate and you were always hungry; you drank but you were always thirsty; you loved but you were always lonely. But in the light you are hungry not for food but for hope; you are thirsty not for water but for faith; you are loved by the greatest love there ever will be, and it is a flame that burns always. To be lost in that love is the greatest adventure of all.

Gently, softly, the light calls your name again. It speaks with as commanding as thunder and as gentle as the caress of a salty wave: "Will you follow?"

With your heart swelling and the light overflowing from your soul, the reply springs to your lips unbidden: "Surely, always, I will follow you!"

"If the way leads into darkness, will you follow?"

And your reply comes: "I will follow!" For to obey the word of that light is like the sweetness of the richest wine, and the joy of an overflowing spring.

And so you follow, and that is the adventure of life. For all adventure involves danger; and the danger is in the darkness. It wishes to encroach upon the things of the light, but you must not let it.

But even so, something feels missing. Though all you need is in the presence of the marvelous light, a divine restlessness overcomes your soul; a holy melancholy drives your spirit. Though you live in the light, the adventure seems less adventurous than it could be; the great romance of life seems like a lesser drama. What is it? What can it be, that feeds upon your very life and casts your mind into shadow?

And perceiving your thought, the great light returns to you, saying: "There is a great war waging; and to be one of my warriors is always the calling of those that live in the light. Will you answer the call?"

And, slowly, you say, "If you say I must, then I will!"

"Even to great cost to yourself?"

"Even to the most bitter cost."

"Then you will taste the bitterness, forsaking all for the eternal reward. Look down upon this world!"

Like you are seeing through a dark, dim glass, the grey world is shown to you; there are people down there walking in darkness. Eternal sorrow contorts their faces; and all are on a dim road into the uttermost darkness. They walk like blind men following blind men, and at the end of the road is a bottomless pit from whence there is no return.

With words of reluctance delaying your reply, you say, "What will you have me do?"

And the strong voice returns, "I would have you forsake everything you love in the world you live in. You will feel forsaken and alone, and you will feel like nothing you do matters or ever will matter. You must leave family, though they are dying; you must leave friends, though they forget you. You must be prepared to suffer sorrow and pain. I would have you give up your very life."

"To do what?"

"Do you not know? Look down upon this world. They are walking every day in darkness. They are looking for angels where there are none. They have thirsted and hungered and have been tortured with false love; can someone rescue them?"

With brimming confidence, you say: "You can!"

"You speak truthfully. But who is the man that walks among them? Who can see with my eyes? Only the light can turn out darkness. But who shall be the angel they look for? How can they find the words of light when the words are not spoken to them? In this world of darkness, who will be the light?"

You are silent.

But the voice of truth continues, "This is your call. Those of you who live in the light, walk in the light. You must give up everything for the sake of the light; and this is what the light commands you to do: to go. For there is always this question: who will go? Though they leave behind family, who will go? Though they leave behind fellowship, who will go? Though they give up their very lives, who will go? Though the way is hard, who will go? Who will go to rescue those destined for eternal darkness? Who will go to show them their light and salvation? Who will be my warrior to the corners of the earth? Who will dare take up the sword and fight the ultimate battle for the souls of those in the darkness? Who will shed tears for the lost? Who will cry for the broken? Who will lift up the weary with a message of strength and hope? Who will go?" For the briefest of moments, the voice pauses.

And then, the light says, "Though it will cost you everything, will you go?"

You say nothing at first; for this is a decision that will change your life forever. And yet the words of the light worm into your memory and fill the divine melancholy of your soul; for indeed, even in your own case, it took the words of light to bring the light.

A tear slips down your cheek. You swallow hard and your breathing shudders.

And the questions pound in your mind: Who will preach the words of light? The entire world is waiting while walking in darkness. But who will show them the light? Who will be burdened for those lost?

And the words of the light haunt the core of your being: though it will cost you everything, will you go?

You gather up your faith and courage. They are small; but they are enough. Even faith as small as a mustard seed can move mountains; and now the time has come to move souls out of darkness and into light. And it will cost you everything.

In the smallest of voices, you must say, "I will go."

And that's enough.