A Word of Power: The Story of Tell
Prelude:
I have been watching this world with hopeful eyes. I know what we have meant for it. Even though they appear to be at their lowest, even though it seems as if the enemy has won, that is exactly when my word will be heard and known.
The enemy was cunning. As always, he used their own ingenuity and possible good against them. Humanity created devices and programs that could connect them across great distances - a hope for the unity I always longed for. The enemy turned these devices into replacements for real and fulfilling interactions, presence, and relationships with those around them. With pictures and videos which were ways to share our experiences and communicate our stories, joy, hopes, and needs, the enemy replaced living with watching and fake truths interwove themselves into stories and imagination. Music that could inspire our worship, our emotions, and desires, the enemy used it for manipulation, to create fake emotions, to spur them on, to lull them, to mask the silence and my voice.
Soon as people depended on their devices they forgot how to communicate well, to build relationships, and to be present for one another. The less and less they used their voices the more they forgot what it was to speak and to share. Soon, even written communication became shorter and shorter, until it was finally replaced with images, buttons, colors, and music. Words were lost. The enemy knew the power of words, the power of the word but he has forgotten that this power still remains, but now isn’t spread across too many words devoid of meaning. Once again, the word can be spoken and create a new and bring order.
I watch now, as always, looking for a partner, one with the potential for faith that can be my work in this world. They go about their days now as automatons. The move and work when a light turns green. They stop or rest when a light turns red. They move, work, eat faster as the music builds. They slow down as it lulls. They are consumed by images and moving pictures wherever they go and the music going with it tells a nondescript story that they have heard a thousand times that teaches them nothing and surely does not help them grow.
The enemy has tried his best to remove anything about me from their minds, their stories, these images, their work, everything. Those people in power did not resist him. They both knew that my word, my hope, my light would end up challenging their way, their desires, their power, and this way of life (or should I say death). Everything is meant to num, to lull, to distract, but they have forgotten that every one of my creations is meant for more than this. Even if they bury it so deep into them that it seems to disappear, deep calls out to deep, and that longing to be, to become, to do, to love, to connect will ignite afresh and I will be there ready.
Awww, here is just the one, whose heart burns for something else. To most of them, he would seem to be a simple and strange boy, but that is only because he is stepping out of the mold. Let me tell you the story of the boy who would eventually be known as Tell.
