The Armor

Kim Jagwe
5 min readDec 9, 2023

Clumps of moist brown dirt and vines cling to my shoes, causing me to fall face down on the damp, musty ground. Sudden tears spring up as I wonder how I got here. Just lay here, my mind whispers. You’re tired! If you just let go… let it have you, the pain will end.

“Not like this, my spirit counters. We are not done. You are not done. Raw rage bubbles up and breaks over my parched lips. “Stop!” I scream . “Just stop!” “I can’t do this anymore,” I shout cradling my head. “God. Please help me! Make it stop!”

A sharp sound in the distance causes my head to snap back as the hairs on my neck stand at attention. Energy floods my body as I quickly crawl behind a moss-covered tree trunk. God, if you’re real, my mind bargains, then help me. Save me!

Looking up toward the sky for any sign that He might be real. My eyes land on NOTHING. My gaze falls, and with it, my last bit of hope. Mom’s sweet smile flashes across my mind as I give her a silent goodbye. “I’m sorry, Mom,” escapes my lips as the tears fall. A sudden sound brings me back to myself, hands at the ready for a final round.

As I scan the mess and majesty of soaring trees and tangled vines, I see a mound of metal beneath the base of a half-dead oak. Briefly, I wonder if it was struck by lightning. Quickly, I look around for his presence. No signs of the enemy. My scamper mimics the movements of a quick squirrel as I reach out for the mass beneath the tree.

Disappointment and curiosity dance a dangerous duel in my emotions. What is this heap of junk? I wonder. I rummage through, looking for anything that can help me fight the beast trying to kill me. Confusion sets in as I lift the old helmet. I put it to the side, searching for something more powerful. What is this? My mind wonders as I run my hands across the woven chain metal. Every old war movie I’ve ever seen comes flooding back. This is armor! I laugh at the thought of this old pile of metal lost here in the woods for who knows how long. Maybe I can sell it online if I make it out. First, I need to make it out.

Reality and a noise overhead bring me back. My bandaged leg starts to ache under the pressure of squatting. I pick up the largest piece of metal, running my hand over the dents and dings on its surface. For the first time in days, I feel a spark of hope. Maybe I can…

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Kim Jagwe

Kim Jagw:, Podcaster* Faith Builder* CEO of God's Perfect Size.* Really Cool Human. My internet home is www.kimjagwe.com