(This is a story about a man of God facing insurmountable opposition, in his own words….)
I see your plan. I understand it. You hate me. You fear me. You wish me dead even. When I breathe, it’s a cardinal sin to your world, and you want to see me burn. I don’t presume to know why you abhor me, or emit such animosity with fervor, particularly when your goals were not achieved, and you want to blame me for your shortcomings — and quite frankly, I couldn’t care less as to the why, the how, the what and the where. All I know is you’re coming at me with an armada of sinister deeds, looking to blitzkrieg me into oblivion and silence me of whatever passions I have in my life, because they somehow — in some weird, bizarre and incomprehensible way — directly contradict your way of life, your expectations and your beliefs.
Do what you must. I will not move. Your storm will not take me. It may tear away at my skin and force me to drop to my knees, but what you don’t seem to know is that I’m not alone. Out of all the wicked warriors you have in your wake, waving this demonic scepter as if you have some authority to dictate to me my identity, my way of life, the very fabric of my being, as horrifying as your tactics are, as vicious as you may be, I have the one secret weapon you will never have —
I have people who will stand by me.
They’ll stand by me, not out of fear, not out of association, not because you shell out some money their way to get them to stand by you in your fierce struggle for dominance and control — they stand by me out of faith.
You will not break me. You will try, but that faith I have in droves, faith that can move a million mountains and meteors to rupture a space-time continuum and modify the fates in ways that can only be comprehended by the most brilliant of quantum physicists and theorists of humanity, that faith will bring me back to my feet every single time, and I have the strength to move forward every single time even as you continue to batter me down.
I will not fail. I will push toward you. And my mere presence will be enough to force you down, slinking away like a serpent without skin, because all that pain and suffering, all your efforts, will rebound and annihilate you from every angle, and there will be nothing left of you but skin and bones.
Against all the odds…. I will succeed. You failed in your attempts. You will continue to fail in your attempts. In the end, the world will look down on you as a petty figure of immense superficiality and condescendence, nothing but the lowest dust of the earth conveying the image of power (which means nothing), and you will know justice. You will know fear. You will know pain. And the worst of it is this — you will undoubtedly bring all of it on yourself, fully responsible for the rest of your sick, sad, pathetic, miserable, little life.