At press time, more than a hundred souls have met a violent end in Paris. Grandparents, fathers, mothers, children. Husbands, wives, lovers. Friends. Colleagues. Neighbours. Strangers. Hello-s stilled, kisses gone, farewells unsaid. Coming home no more. Too many souls gone, but many, may more left to take up the banner of anguish, to hold the wake of torment. In the languidness of Friday rest, a cruel, deranged felling. So many, so much, lost today, gone to feed the ever deepening pool of grief.


          In every belief in God, lies a wellspring that beckons each follower. An immersion in the pool of religion should bring welcome rest, cleansing of the soul and a renewed faith. The believer then leaves the spring and climbs back up the banks to return to life, at peace with God and man. Healed to love and serve again.


          But there are some other pools. Aberrant, still, and deep. Pools whose waters bubble up an incense of hatred. As its waters close over souls, they fill and water every hole and crack, however minute, but while the currents of healing, purifying waters of True Faith wash away the filth that clogs the cracks of sins and weaknesses in human hearts, the churning waters of deviant pools work differently – they don’t cleanse sin; they seal in and fill to overflowing the filth of nefariousness.

          These are cesspools of religious and moral subterfuge. Their gospel is paraded as light and truth. Their waters nourish slothful hearts, stealthily dimming the Voice of the True Shepherd, seeking to replace Love with hate. A sustained dipping in these pools, bit by bit, ultimately kills the conscience of the believer. The Shepherd’s Voice becomes one to run from, His Word anathema.


          And last night, those who took guns and explosives into Paris to claim a nefarious accolade, didn’t hear that small, still voice from within them, begging them to choose Love over hate. Mercy….Mercy….Mercy.. was not a hymn they knew, or cared for. They were blind to the Light that would have steered them away from the precipice. With little regard for the sanctity and preciousness of life, they chose to be God and end more than a hundred lives.

          These infernal springs that spawn killers are everywhere. Some hidden, some not. Fonts of hatred and malice parading as light and truth. They dot the landscapes of every life on earth.

          Yet, not every such spring begins its life poisoned. Many spiritual dipping pools birth their history in peace and joy and purity. Many go on to nurture and perfume noble vocations. Sadly, some get poisoned along the way. It begins with a mild contamination of the waters of knowledge, a seemingly innocuous dilution of truth and purity, which over time, builds a dark and dangerous depth. To the hearts unschooled or unmoved by the promptings of the Spirit, these waters seduce and entice.

          But to draw nourishment from these aquifers of death is not a compulsion. It is a choice. A choice between Life and death. And every one us stands at the crossroads of this choice. The Paris killers were once children too, with childhoods and choices similar to ours. The company of friends and loved ones. The choice to gossip or not. The choice to share or hold back. To steal or give. The choice between truth or lies, purity or filth. To instigate or to bring peace.


          From childhood to the age of reason, and even beyond, all of us, pause at dipping pools along the road of life. At every pool, the choice to nourish  or poison, lies with us. When faced with contamination of the truth, do we gird ourselves with the armour of God and return purity to the spring so it pollutes not another heart? Is our response a shrug and a moving on, with no warning called out to other drinkers? Or do we add in pellets of muck – another tidbit of gossip, a small lie here, an embellishment there, – to thicken the depths of sludge? In our journeys through life, when we pause at springs, tired and in need of feeding, if the flavor of the water disturbs our conscience, do we gird our loins, doggedly get to our feet and seek nourishment elsewhere? Or do we still the small voice of our conscience, Just this one time, we say, and lap up, thereby giving tacit support to error?

          Life is journey of decisions. At every pool we stop, the same choices present: Which wellsprings to seek spiritual nourishment from? To poison or to purify?

          The path to murder, death – physical or spiritual, is seldom a single leap off a precipice. It is complex journey of interwoven decisions each and every one of us ponders through, in choosing between the bloom of deception, and the Thorn of Truth.

          In the end, as always, it will come down to a choice between Life and death.



    1. Anne, every time we hear of an attack on our brethren, be they Christians or non-Christians, my husband and I understand there’s a source that fed the perpetrators. Unfortunately, it’s only today that I decided to write on it. My bit for France.


  1. This is a wise and profound look at the poisoning of wellsprings. It is heartbreaking and harrowing and haunting to see the light perverted and wielded as a tool of destruction of innocent lives. This is a beautiful and terribly sad tribute to all those suffering from persecution, violence and hatred; a closer look into the lightless-lost who have turned from the brilliance in so many ways. Prayers for France and all her victims.


    1. Our calling, expressed through different ways, might be to bring the Light back to the lost, even when there seems to be no hope. I was so deeply touched by those lines in the Fire Fighter – saving what life you could where you did not want to go. I found them so, so gently persuasive to cast aside my judgement of a situation, and to be ready to do the bidding of the Spirit to save souls.


      1. Yes, to be bearers of the light to others and to ourselves when we turn away from it in our varying degrees and myriad ways; to be peacemakers within our hearts and in our love for others. We go along and keep trying….


  2. So sad, Caitlynnegrace. My heart goes out to the people of France. “Fonts of hatred and malice parading as light and truth” – you are so right. And the saddest thing of all is that the True Wellspring is always reaching out to them. May God bring true peace to this earth.


    1. I think we are part of the pain and of that peace. We can only be authentic and effective missionaries of peace if the pain bites into us. So many are weeping for France tonight, Mary, which means that many more missionaries are being birthed for the vineyard of toil ❤


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