We all know the enemy casts foreboding shadows, that every senseless situation swirls through the air and into the human heart.
The silver edged lightening crackles across the lake, typhoons and hurricanes break us in two; we pick up the pieces and move on.
Anyone who has ever heard the rumbling train before a tornado can anticipate attack even though there is no person or reason mentioned.
Whatever power on earth or under the earth that tramples the innocent, we might turn to as if in a daze. We might even give it a name.
Then you finally know what you have to do though voices around you and in you shout otherwise, and the old woven rug fights with your feet.
You kick it aside as the sun’s light streams through a mass of clouds, and hear the Voice which you slowly realize you’ve heard all along.
You pick up your stride and go deeper and deeper, then higher and higher, determined to save, just as you were saved.