Sword Drill

The anticipation and excitement in the air, that morning at breakfast, mingled amongst the clanging dishes. There was much talk about the Play, the Prize, as the younger got to challenge the more mature of their choice.

Warren’s buddies goaded him to ‘Give the Lie.’ He slowly stood, puffing out his chest, marching straight to the table where his brother Korbyn sat, looking him directly in the eye, throwing his glove down before him. Korbyn glanced down at the glove then into his brother’s eyes for a long time, waiting for him to blink. The two seemed to make a competition out of everything. When Warren refused to divert his gaze, Korbyn reached for the glove and slapped it against Warren’s chest. Laughter and shouts rang out at the acceptance of the summons.

Thirty minutes later.

Not a cloud in the sky, the sun shining in the front window cast a beam of light right through the center of the building. The Moniteur stood on the stage:

“Contenders will be on the right, known as the Rebels, opponents on the left, referred to as the Swatch-bucklers. Make your way to the center now.”

“I hope you came prepared. Do you have your armor on? Because today you’re going to need it, of course, we need it every day. Okay, it looks like the teams are pretty even and diverse. Shall we begin? This first round will be for the whole gamut. Draw your swords, hold them high over your heads, ready set commence.”

There is a scramble, a sword of victory is raised.

“Great job, Alex! This next bout is for our first two here in front. En Guard, break.”

The Prevot takes a slip or little step back. The crowd cheers, rustling continues until a winner is declared. The gaggle is wild with encouragement for the crushed player, as he joins the ranks of the mob. The competition is fast-paced, eliminations and conquerors move in and out, upon the Prevots call.

“Folks, it looks like our final duel will be the Son’s of Thunder. You, two young men, have proven to have La Destreza or skill. Your breast plates must be firmly in place because they have helped you right to the front. Take a firm stance, High ward!”

The sun seems to illuminate them both; the throng holds their breath, the brother’s lunge into action.

“Wonderful engagement, nice perry Korbyn, but we have a clash amongst the judges. What say ye?”

A very loud “Tie!” is the reply.

The announcer agrees; ”Tie it is. You will face off again. Get those swords to the ready. Hebrews 4:12.”

Warren’s melodic symbols call out,” For the word of GOD is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and spirit, of joints and marrow, and discerning the thoughts of intentions of the heart. Hebrews 4: 12.” his ten-year-old voice loud and clear, ahead of his fifteen-year-old brother’s.

“We have a champion!” proclaims the MC. “This year’s sword drill Victor is ‘Warren’ congrats! A splendid win for the Rebels. Not only did you beat your brother but all the rivals from six to seventy-six. I present you with your new sword; it is inscribed with Ephesians 6:17 ‘The sword of the spirit which is the word of GOD.’”

Shouts ring out for a job well done!

Which sword do you carry?

Need to know more about GOD’s word?

Feel free to contact me.

Related posts:

When Squid Game token pumped in an ethereal way, it simply put everyone on cloud nine. Why? Who would mind becoming an overnight millionaire? None. But you know what was the crazy part, despite being…