| |
TOO MANY MEN
The oppressors were great,
Their numbers strong,
Their cruelty perverse,
Their dominance too long.
They robbed all the food,
The oil and the wheat,
They lived off tyranny,
The rebels they beat.
They erected an alter,
To worship their god,
Their loot, their bounty,
Their measuring rod.
They murdered at will,
And bullied the rest,
Hundreds of thousands,
Of soldiers were dressed.
Their sheer size alone,
A giant regime,
Made them invincible,
Or so it would seem …
Till one day an angel,
Approached a young man,
Said he was brave,
And offered a plan.
The young man complied,
And gathered a band,
Thirty-two thousand,
Stood strong on the land.
The odds were still bad,
They thought they could win,
They’d fight to the death,
And die for their kin.
They readied for battle,
And swallowed hard,
They raised their swords,
And stood on guard.
The young man was ready,
But to his surprise,
The Lord had a message,
About the band’s size.
“You have too many men!”
The Lord advised,
You will boast your own strength,
Should you take the prize.
“Ask all of the men,
‘Who wants to leave?’
And pardon them gracefully,
This very eve."
So twenty-two thousand,
Headed for home,
Leaving ten thousand,
The fields to roam.
“You still have too many!”
The Lord repeated,
“With me alone,
You’ll not be defeated!”
Gideon was young,
And in God he trust,
Pride in himself,
Was not his lust.
So down to the river,
At the waters edge,
There the men drank,
As God drove a wedge.
The men who drank,
From the cup of their hand,
Were chosen to purge,
The scourge of the land.
The water that touched,
Their holy palms,
Gave them the power,
Of heaven’s psalms.
Three hundred men,
Lapped from their hands,
Three hundred men,
To follow God’s plans.
“Get up!” shouted Gideon,
To the three hundred few,
Divide into three,
And wait for the cue.
“In your right hand,
Hold trumpets at par,
And deft in your left,
Hold a lamp in a jar”.
“Follow my lead,
Do just as I do,
When I blow my trumpet,
You blow yours too.”
“Then smash the jars,
Hold torches high,
For the night is ours,
The victory is nigh.”
Surrounding the camps,
By the third watch of night,
On Gideon’s sign,
The foe ran in fright.
The blast of trumpets,
And ocean of light,
Drove them to panic,
And sealed their plight.
As fear would have it,
And by the Lord’s might,
The enemy turned,
On each other to fight.
Till none was left,
Only Gideon’s band,
His three hundred strong,
Was the last to stand.
They were saved,
To tell the story,
The point of the win,
To give God glory.
Theirs the covenant,
Theirs the reward,
They turned to God,
The avenger The Lord.
Too many men,
Will get in the way,
And too much pride,
Will ruin the day.
Sheila Willar - April 12, 2009
(Easter Sunday)
Judges 7: 1,2 (KJV)
1 Then Jerubbaal, who is Gideon, and all the people that were with him, rose up early, and pitched beside the well of Harod: so that the host of the Midianites were on the north side of them, by the hill of Moreh, in the valley.
2 And the LORD said unto Gideon, The people that are with thee are too many for me to give the Midianites into their hands, lest Israel vaunt themselves against me, saying, mine own hand hath saved me.
| |