Crossroads

You can either curse the darkness or light a candle. I heard that somewhere once, and it stuck. When in full dark, with no moon or stars to bleed a little light into the murk, even a flickering, sputtering candle will push back the cloying darkness enough for it not to seem a tangible thing, pressing in all around you. We’d all rather have a spotlight or a flashlight with enough lumens to burn our shadow into a neighboring tree, but sometimes you have to use what’s at your disposal, and a half-used wax candle is all we’ve got.

The thing about darkness is that it hates any light whatsoever, including something as seemingly innocuous as a flickering candle. Light is light, and it seeks to extinguish it no matter how small and infrequent it might be. Once it can convince enough people to give up their candles voluntarily, it will inevitably try to take those remaining by force.

I grew up in a Communist country for the first nine years of my life. My parents and grandparents lived under the regime for much longer. I know what it becomes when it’s fully implemented in a nation where the people no longer have a voice, a choice, or a means of redress for the abuse they endure at the hands of those with a chip on their shoulder and an inferiority complex.

I’ve heard enough stories and spoken to enough people about what it was like to know the lengths to which those in power will go to retain the power they’ve amassed and how they view everyone except their inner circle as disposable fodder for the utopia they’ve envisioned that will never materialize because human nature is what it is, and hedonism is alive and well.

This is why I chuckle at those who’ve never lived it pining for the equity of Socialism or Communism. Although with their lips, they say the only thing they’ve ever wanted was equality, in their hearts, they echo George Orwell's sentiment, insisting that some animals are more equal than others. Serendipitously, they never see themselves as the inferior animals. It’s always you and I, the people who just want to be left alone to raise their children and serve their God, who derive joy from something other than power or possessions that are deemed less than.

Those who tried to exterminate Christians and Christianity did so not because they held some special hatred toward Jesus but because Jesus gave men hope, and they didn’t like the competition. The system wants exclusive rights to hope, and anything standing in the way of total dependence on the government must be excised and done away with.

Those who fail to learn from history are doomed to repeat it. That’s the price of ignorance, and eventually, everyone must pay it. By the time enough people realize what their nation has become, it’s too late to do anything about it except go along, hoping that you won’t be singled out by the machine and have your life turned inside out, villainized, and demonized for not going along with every twisted thing a finite minority now deems as the new normal.

Even though people were starving, being abused, sent to labor camps, imprisoned, tortured, and having everything the system deemed excessive seized on a whim, Nicolae Ceausescu still managed to get 99% of the votes when they were all counted, but even that wasn’t good enough. After every election, they would release the hounds to find that 1% who dared not comply and reeducate them in very violent ways. The 99% were used as the undeniable proof that the 1% were just rabble-rousers and needed to be dealt with lest the 1% turn into 2% come the next election cycle.

As I sat in my chair sipping my coffee this morning, I was left with three choices: say nothing and pretend as though we are not at a crossroads, be hyper-pious and acknowledge the situation for what it is but insist that all I’m willing to do is watch the darkness encroaching, or share my heart knowing that some will take it the wrong way and judge me for it.

The possibility that America can be saved is not on the table. It hasn’t been for quite some time. Judgment is coming, so the only variable left to consider is when. If I can have another four years of watching my daughters grow up in relative peace and continue to do the work to which God has called me, being left alone and not being forced to bend the knee or suffer the consequences of my refusal, then I will make an effort to light my candle, though some within the household of faith may deem it unseemly. Yes, it’s a gnarled, half-burned, wax-laden candle, but it’s still a candle and can produce a bit of light. I will not forfeit my right to push back against the darkness, even if, in the aggregate, it’s but a flicker.

Will it do anything to change the course of this nation? Likely not, but neither will cursing the darkness and being unwilling to do anything to halt its progression. I will not be a coward. I will not. I don’t think I could bear looking my daughters in the face if I were.

Sometimes in life, you have to take a stand, even against overwhelming odds. It’s not because you think you’ll win, but because it’s the right thing to do. Who knows? Perhaps someone will see your boldness, and another theirs, and eventually, enough people stand up and shake off the dust that they bring the fight to the enemy and give him a run for his money.

I write the following with a heavy heart: The day will come, and sooner than some may think, when those who stood on the sidelines and did nothing will wish they had, but it will be too late.

We will return to our journey through Job shortly. For now, remember that those who despise the God you serve have no love for you either. You cannot hate one’s Master but love His servants, no matter how much they try to convince you otherwise. 

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr.         

Posted on 4 November 2024 | 12:10 pm