This evening has the slow and simple melody of an ordinary night. Adele pandora is singing room to room and I unpack groceries in the kitchen. I am too lazy to pour it into a glass and so I take sips of wine out of the bottle as I stir-fry vegetables and tofu. The dog has finished eating dinner, and lays by the front door. My bare feet could use a good wash as usual. The sun is setting in the west windows of the house. This evening has the slow and simple melody of an ordinary night.
But do not be deceived. This night is special and there are a handful of people on the planet who know why.
There is a small army in San Diego tonight, preparing, listening, laughing, on the eve of battle. It has become a routine for who lead them. T-shirts are counted and vans are packed. Boxes are loaded, unloaded, shifted, reloaded and smiles and beads of perspiration are shared as doors slam one by one. The carriages of this army are worn out but carry precious cargo across North America. Some will journey. Some will stay. Both jobs are just as critical for carrying the banner of their cause.
The faces of this army are ever-changing but their objectives remain the same. Tell the world there is a better way. Tell the world peace is possible. Love your neighbor. Listen to your neighbor. See your neighbor.
And on this eve of battle - I am thinking about the faces of this army. Faces of old soldiers I fought with. Faces of soldiers who fought before me. Soldiers that haven’t even yet thought about joining the ranks of living peace.
Friends in San Diego; friends around the world. I am proud of you. Who you are. Where you are.
In the evenings that sing the slow and simple melody of an ordinary night, I am not deceived. There is an army coming.