This is a poem I wrote a while back, but my posting schedule did not permit it to be shared until now. In a moment of disappointment in my fellow man, and in the reminder that our enemies are not just people who avowedly oppose us; but also those unwitting pawns whose heart and deeds do not align, often at the behest of financial incentives. We can become the enemy of a man so easily, and often because we are following the will of another.
I was also reminded that to love one’s enemies is not a noble or enjoyable task. Indeed, it is not noble, as strong a sentiment as it may seem to suggest it is. In practice, we find there is no honor in it, at least not for the time being. Though, I know that as with all suffering, so shall loving thy enemies be as all things at the conclusion of the matter. That is, such things are promised to be worth it in the end. For all suffering done as the Lord’s servant produces good character, and a lasting hope. I hold onto that.
Just as important to remember is to humble ourselves in recognizing our enemies may be closer than anyone else could ever be. The Holy Scriptures in 1 Samuel 2:1, 1 Samuel 20:33, & Matthew 10:34-36 remind us of how even our own family members may at times be as such. The many wars fought between different Christian groups provide endless examples of how brothers and sisters in faith may even find themselves on opposite ends of a conflict in this fallen world. As C.S. Lewis notes in Mere Christianity, we may look back and laugh about such squabbles one day in Heaven. Though until that day, such things are certainly no laughing matter.
With all that said, the Advent season is upon us. During this time, it is important to remember that by coming in the flesh to save us from the consequences of our rebellion against Him, the Lord did exercise love for us – His enemies – in so doing. Is there honor in that? Indeed, as hard as it may be to see when in the midst of such events. Rather, these are things often understood with time.
To love thy foe is no simple trite
No easy task and for sure, no delight
For to love an enemy is to love and hate
The one who is vile, yet does not relate
What a burden it is to hate one's own home
The people who smile, yet spurn you as their own
Those banal ones of ill, most evil dressed nice
Who have not within, but a heart cold as ice
To love what one hates is no simple deed
It requires all one can muster indeed
It is not for the faint, nor the weak of will
It shall take all you have until you are ill
You shall be an outcast in the land of your birth
You shall know all the scorn that one can unearth
All the good that you do is regarded as dirt
They shall tell you all's well, and give naught but hurt
But God's child holds hope, for he knows what's to come
He knows of the day to deliver us from
All the evil dressed so nicely and neat
He knows that true good, one can never defeat
God's child does know to suffer most long
In a world where he knows that he does not belong
For suffering doth produce a good heart
And is key to him who is set apart
And as small as a comfort it may ever be
To know of such purpose for the ill he does see
It is all that one needs to endure through each day
And to keep in good cheer along such a way
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The Pensive Warrior 
Gre
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