Men and Storms, Arrows, Confusion

“When the storms come, flaming arrows fly, confusion brews, wildermen will lean into it all, pressing into God, and buck up.”   That’s from a previous post, about men and their wildness; redemptive wildness, a wildness we cannot, should not, forfeit.

Good words, priceless stories, from men who have gone before us are legacy words, words of strength. One sage in particular spoke about shields that fighters carried into battle, back in the transition from B.C. to  A.D.  These warriors had cloths, saturated in water, on the outside of their shields.  When the flaming arrows came, they were extinguished.  Wild, eh?

Yes.  Those guys were wild.  And we are wild, even when  storms blow in, flaming arrows fly, confusion brews.  Kipling pointed out such confusion, in his poem “If”.

” … keep your head when all about you are losing theirs… blaming it on you … you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, but make allowance for their doubting too … ”                                                                                         

We can do this: keep our heads, when others around us are losing it.  When others feel the need to blame us, or doubt us, we can trust ourselves and our God, to keep on pressing on, fighting on, praying on, rallying each other on … We can do this.  

Isolation comes with lies; we need community.    /    Compulsivity comes with pain, perceived need for relief, choices to go to the wrong place; we need people with hutspah to speak into our hearts, and our minds.     /  Anger comes from sorrow, from fear; we need a safe place and safe people to sort things out.   /   Financial stress  & instability comes because of mistakes in our planning and choices, and we also forget that God is our provider; we need reminders from reliable people.   /   Fear of  insignificance comes if we forget where our significance is, or what our high callings are, to be the best we can be, with what we have, right where we are at; we need seasoned people of humility and strength to walk with us, at different places in our journey.


Okay, wildermen.  Stay wild, and wise, and don’t act stupid.

Wilderman on Rolling Creek

Some lost guy


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