warriors

They were warriors then,

and old on their knees,
crying out for the generation
we now think of as heroes.
Unknown, unsung, yet undeterred,
they prayed for mercy, for salvation,

for the latter rain, for
O God MOVE! Deliver

this man! This woman!
This soul you love, from

foolishness! Darkness! Sin!

They saw visions! Fruit!

Light, restoration! Revival!
and so they prayed.
O God, thank you,
they PRAYED!

And those we know as heroes,
laboring as our teachers,
our preachers, servants,
lovers of souls, they came.
They cried, they broke,
they were healed, filled,
inspired, motivated. Used!

And so then even we,
even we were touched,
even we were called,
even we drank
from the cup of salvation.

And will the future think us heroes?
Will present day children
see us as warriors, old
and on our knees, crying out
for a generation not yet born?
Will they join us,
unknown and unsung,
yet undeterred?