A Call to Warrior Poets (pt. 2) THE BLEEDING HOPEFUL

Strong people have scars. Some are visible. Those that take longest to heal are not.

Scars are remnants of the stories that shape us. Some of these tales begin with, "Hold my beer." Many aren't nearly as lighthearted. A good portion our scars are self-induced. The majority are inflicted from the outside.

Yesterday I watched a bit of one of my all-time favorite movies. Those who know me well, might smirk, aware that my all-time list is as long as a slow moving freight train. That said, Warrior comes in very near the top. (Not to be confused with The Warriors from the late 70's; with the famous bottle clinking... "Come out to play-yay-yaaay" line. Sorry, back on point.)

Warrior is a story of, well, warriors. Each of the major characters is scarred in his own way. And though  the context of the film is MMA fighting, the physical scarring is vastly overshadowed by the psychological and the relational. It is a story of failure and bravery; of deep-seated scars and hopeful hopelessness. It is a tale of bitterness, brokenness and desperation. And ultimately, emerging from the canvas, comes a portrait of the ultimate warrior-poet principle - love conquers all.

Warriors, and especially warrior-poets, are propelled by higher purpose. They are fueled by principle that burns in their hearts and flashes in their eyes. One of my favorite "Hold my beer..." tales comes straight from the pages of the Bible. (You might ask, "How is he going to tie in a Bible story to an MMA movie?" I don't know. Let's see where - and how - it goes.)

The warrior-poet whose portrait I hope to paint in pt. 3 is such a guy: Conflicted, angry, hopeless, hopeful - with a fire in his belly and lightning in his corneas. He is one of David's Mighty Men - as in King David, David and Goliath, David. This warrior-poet takes an incredibly audacious faith gamble. But that is what warrior-poets do. They believe. They trust. They Do. (When others only sit around and talk.)

We'll get to this warrior-poet in the next post. I'll wrap up for now with this thought: It would seem to us the best path is the easy one - a straight stroll on nicely paved roads. But few warrior-poets see, when looking in life's rear-view, nicely paved roads with clearly marked lanes and easy-to-read neon road signs. Instead, they often trek their way down dusty winding paths. Sight lines are often blurred and corners are hidden. Bridges are under repair and require some emotional four-wheeling. Many stretches are overgrown with thorned branches. These slap. They cut. They scar.

Scars are painful; even for Warrior-poets. But they move forward. They are the bleeding hopeful.

I began by writing Strong people have scars. In reality, we all have scars. I guess strong people have learned to live with them and the stories they tell. Everyone has scars. Warrior-poets - the bleeding hopeful - just don't attempt to hide them.

For now...
D