A Weary Soldier Awaiting Orders

By Jerry W. Lindsey

The field is quiet for the moment, but the silence is not peace—it is only the pause between battles. My armor is dented and worn, my shield scarred from countless blows. The sword I grip is familiar in my hand, though my strength to wield it feels less than it once was. I bear the marks of many wounds—some fresh, some long healed—all reminders of battles lost and won.

I have fought the world, the flesh, and the devil for many years. Too often, the flesh has found its mark, leaving behind not trophies of victory but scars of shame. If my past were laid out for all to see, it would be nothing worth keeping—only refuse fit for the manure pile. And yet, even in the moments when I fall, my mind turns to my Captain. When the sting of failure comes, I feel the grief and shame of a soldier who has let his Commander down. There is a shadow in those moments—a sense of distance from His presence. But I know the truth: my Captain does not abandon His soldiers.

So I run to Him. Always to Him. Where else could I go? He alone has the words of eternal life. I fall before Him, not as a deserter begging to be let back into the ranks, but as a wounded man who knows his only hope is the One who called him into service. He bends down, cleanses me with His own hands, and clothes me again in the garments He Himself has washed white in His blood. Then He places the sword back in my hand, steadying my grip.

Yet I am weary. Day after day, year after year, it feels like standing in a long line, waiting for the next command. Earth’s glories have faded; even its pleasures are pale. My heart longs for my true country, though my feet remain in foreign soil. I think often of home—not the home where my head rests at night, but the Home where my heart belongs. I have seen some dear comrades cross that final field before me, their battles over, their faces radiant as they entered the joy of the Captain’s presence.

I know that when I cross that final field and lay down my sword, I will see my Captain face to face. The battle will be over. Every promise He has made will be fulfilled. No more sin, no more enemy, no more weary standing in line. Just the joy of His presence—unbroken, unclouded, forever.

Until that day, I will hold the line. My orders are clear: fight the good fight, finish the course, keep the faith. The scars I carry will one day shine as proof that I was kept, not that I was strong. And when the trumpet sounds, I will not be found idle. I will be found at my post—a weary soldier awaiting orders—ready to go home.

Scripture Add-On (LSB)

“Simon Peter answered Him, ‘Lord, to whom shall we go? You have words of eternal life.’”

—John 6:68

“I have fought the good fight, I have finished the course, I have kept the faith; in the future there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me in that day—and not only to me, but also to all who have loved His appearing.”

—2 Timothy 4:7–8

“For here we do not have a lasting city, but we are seeking the one to come.”

—Hebrews 13:14

“For the Lamb in the center of the throne will shepherd them and will guide them to springs of the water of life, and God will wipe every tear from their eyes.”

—Revelation 7:17