Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: Sport or Fitness (02/15/07)
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TITLE: Counter Strike | Previous Challenge Entry
By
02/20/07 -
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I caught sight of other people headed in the same direction. They appeared to be in good spirits, laughing and joking, so I ran to join them. The clanging of steel beyond the hill stirred our imaginations. The anticipation of learning swordplay was infectious. I lifted the flap of the training tent, and ducked inside with the rest, taking the bundle thrust at me. In the heightened excitement, we changed into our new outfits, unaware of mortal combat taking place outside the back of the tent…of a battlefield littered with fallen bodies…of blood running like a river.
Down on one knee, I laced my boots, making sure they were tight. When I stood, the instructor looked over those assembled. He appraised us individually. “Strange,” I thought. I had come on the premise we were just nameless students. I wanted to learn how to handle the sword; it was pure sport to me, nothing more. This man was personal--maybe a little too personal. After meeting with each of us, he greeted us as a group.
“You’ve been summoned here by way of invitation, though not all of you will be chosen to compete in the end.” He picked up a sword, running his fingers down the edge of the blade. No one moved as he continued.
“I will be honest with you. Your training will be intense, and at times may seem overwhelming. The one thing that will see you through is the level of fitness you achieve.” He paused. “That level will depend on how well you get to know and trust me.”
I heard whispering to my right. The person behind me coughed, suppressing laughter as a joke passed around. Without moving my head, I glanced at those near me. Some were too busy admiring how they looked to pay attention now. A few stood still and listened. I decided to do the same.
Time blurred. The verbal training continued, along with daily bookwork and tests. From our helmets to our boots, we learned our uniform was more than protective, and we were shown how to use each part defensively. Footwork was especially important, giving us the means to sidestep our opponent’s strikes and to come in for a decisive blow. Practice was imperative.
The instructor made himself available during our free hours. Sadly, not many took advantage of the opportunity. The first time I approached him I was timid and shy, but something in my heart told me it was important. It didn’t take long to find out he genuinely cared, and we soon forged a strong friendship. My strength and confidence increased with each visit.
We were allowed to spar only with our instructor, until we proved our legerdemain. Inevitably, the impetuous nature of some of the students overrode their common sense. Eager to show off, they turned their swords one against another. The result was chaotic. The instructor stepped in, and beginning with those hasty to engage, he issued his own challenge. “Defend yourself.”
I watched the smug confidence fade on many a face, when instructor and student crossed swords. With a quick twist, he easily wrested the weapon from the hands of the inept. It was always returned with a kind, but firm admonition. “It takes more than skill. You don’t know me yet.”
He continued to challenge the rest of us. Spending personal time with the instructor had gained us more than just friendship--we had grown stronger, and could anticipate his moves. I was last. When our swords crossed, I resisted and initiated a counter strike. He nodded his approval. At the end of the exercise, we saluted one another and embraced.
“Your training is complete,” he said, handing me a shield and breastplate. “You’re ready to go out now.”
Confusion must have shown in my eyes, for he put his arm around me, and led me to the back of the tent. “Trust me. It may seem like a sport to some, but this is war...” He lifted the flap.
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Analogy taken from Ephesians 6:10-18 with Matthew 22:14
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Super smooth writing. Masterfully crafted. Only a fair maiden could have written this. God bless.