Firing Squad

He was a good soldier.

He didn't deserve this.

Not too long ago, a friend was wounded in battle. The wound was obvious. He was hurting and needed medical attention. It wasn't fatal, but it was serious. And it was painful.

His superior officers soon noticed and rushed into action. They asked him why he wasn't charging the hill as effectively and tenaciously as before. They pondered upon his need to catch his breath. And they whispered among themselves that it might be his fault that he was wounded in the first place.

Something obviously had to be done. Things could not be left in their current state. True leadership was required. So, a firing squad was organized and the soldier was shot. Put out of their misery. Sent to that happy battlefield in the sky. Eliminated.

Problem solved. Or was it?

Now, General Halfwit has to do the work that his faithful soldier used to do. He must come up with creative and innovative ideas. Inspire a team. Lead by example. Get off his lazy arsenal and actually do something.

So far there's been a lot of barked orders. And botched plans. But it's early. The battle hasn't been lost. Yet.

One last thing. That firing squad? From mercy memorial? They missed. Their shots weren't fatal either; the soldier lives. And is in the arms of recovery. Gaining strength every day. And perspective.

Judgment, mercy and grace. Why are we so quick to choose door number one? When the other two choices are so much better for everyone concerned?

My friend was a good soldier.

He didn't deserve this.

Thank God, the story's not over.