From Dictionary.com
Standard -
Those morals, ethics, habits, etc., established by authority, custom, or an individual as acceptable.
Heraldry. A long, tapering flag or ensign, as of a monarch or a nation.
I was always
A sensitive kid,
And I remember often feeling
That there was much injustice
In the world at large.
I would observe others
Engaged in all manner of activities
My parents insisted
Were off limits to me.
Lying. Cheating. Stealing.
Revenge. Violence. Apathy.
When I was overwhelmed,
I would complain to my mother.
"Why is it okay for so-and-so
To act like that,
But not me?"
"Because we hold you to
A higher standard than that,"
She would tell me.
"Well, that's not fair!"
I would return.
"Life's not always fair,
But it's important to try to do
The right thing."
Why it was important for me
And not others
Always irked me.
It still does.
The Anointed One and I
Were hanging out on the back patio,
Where we seem to meet nowadays.
I was quiet.
He sat in the pre-dusk light
Watching me out of the corner of His eye
From the rocking chair.
Finally, He asked,
"What's bothering you?"
I told Him about
An incident at work
That had put me in a twist.
I concluded with,
"I don't understand why it's okay
For him to act like that.
If I did something like that,
The Aussie would quickly
Put me in my place!"
"I guess his boss
Doesn't hold him to the same standard
As the Aussie does you."
It was Friday evening,
And the week's frustrations
Were spilling out of me.
"There's no accountability!
He doesn't care,
And that's all right!"
Jesus looked at me.
"You're ruining your Friday night," He commented.
"But I'm so pissed!
Why is it okay
For him to behave like that?
It's not the first time
Something like this has happened.
And I keep saying the same thing
Over and over again,
But it falls on deaf ears.
He keeps doing things like this!"
"Are you upset that he
Can get away with acting like that,
Or are you upset
That you can't?" He asked,
Piercing to the heart of the matter.
"BOTH!" I honestly admitted.
"I can understand why you're upset
About someone else's behavior,
But what does that have to do
With yours?"
His eyes were twinkling.
I felt myself being set up for something,
But I didn't know what.
"Because it's not fair!"
There. I had said it,
Sounding every bit as petulant and whiny
As I felt inside.
"It's not fair that we're held
To different standards!"
He laughs.
"Is that what this is about?
Standards?"
"Yes!"
That opened the floodgates
For a torrent of observations
About how messed up
The world at large is.
All the indignation,
The years of observing
Injustice and unfairness,
Spilled out of me in a torrent
That I did not even know
Was within me.
At the end, I stood there,
Shaken and spent.
He got up from the rocking chair,
And informed me,
"Blanca,
You're using the wrong meaning
For the word 'standard'."
I blinked. "What?"
He pointed
Towards South Mountain,
And I looked up to see -
"What is that?..."
At the top of one of the peaks,
I saw something white,
A huge, flowing, undulating shape
That was coming down the mountain,
And as it came closer,
There was a swirling splash of cerulean blue
Running down its center.
I squinted,
And the shape of the white heraldic banner
With the blue cross emblazoned on it
Suddenly became clear to me.
And then I saw
The masses -
Thousands and thousands of people,
All colors and nations and tribes,
Marching in lines over the mountain peaks,
Singing hymns of praise
In every conceivable tongue.
Their voices were coming closer,
A joyful, cacophonous din
Proclaiming God's Everlasting Glory
From one end of creation to the other.
They advanced closer,
Lines merging to form one column following beneath
The single, fluttering standard.
Stupefied, I continued to stare
As they threaded down the mountainside,
Through the Ahwatukee backyards and golf courses,
Through the golf course behind our house,
Through our backyard,
And through the house walls,
To emerge (I imagined)
At the front side of the house.
The last thing I heard is
The rustle of the standard
In the warm, evening breeze.
He was quiet for a moment.
Then he said, "You see,
You do live your life
With a standard before you."
His eyes spoke volumes.
"The Cross is the standard you bear
At all moments,
In all situations.
It is the insignia
Of your Kingdom,
And your allegiance.
You will meet others who occupy
Other kingdoms,
But for the rest of your existence -
And your existence is eternal -
You are a citizen of Heaven,
Bound by its code of conduct,
And consecrated to the service
Of the Triune God.
That's the only standard
You need to concern yourself with.
Leave the judging of others,
And the unfairness of life,
To Me."
I humbly bowed my head.
"My Lord."
All the heaviness and sacredness
Of a fealty oath
Was expressed in my next utterance:
"My King!"
He walked toward the the side exit,
But before He was out of sight,
He called back to me,
"Remember,
It's a battlefield
On a scale you can't even begin to imagine.
Your day-to-day actions are
Moves in a long-standing war.
Be armed. Be prepared."
I was about to say something else;
He silenced me with a wave of His hand,
And quietly slipped out of the yard.
As I sit here,
Penning this other-worldly experience,
I can't help but wonder
Why He reminded me that we are at war,
And why He told me, "be armed, be prepared."
Don't I always try to be, Lord?
Or is something happening behind the scenes
That You're trying to warn me about?...
My mind trails off,
Seeking a sense of reassurance,
But encountering instead
Only a foggy unease...
