We watched Henry V while on vacation in the late fall, and two distinct parts have proved memorable for me. I keep thinking of Henry's rousing speech urging his greatly outnumbered men to go ahead anyway with the battle:
"We few, we happy few, we band of brothers:
For he today that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother: be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition.
And gentlemen in England, now a-bed,
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here:
And hold their manhoods cheap, whiles any speaks,
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day."
I read those words, and it stirs me to fight the good fight of my Christian faith, because there is no cause more just and no King more worthy of my loyalty than Him. He has my heart, and I am honored to follow and die for Him. We few, we happy few, we band of brothers. Christians.
The other part that I can't forget is after the battle when Henry comes upon all the slaughtered young boys. He is so filled with despair that it colors his whole view of the battle. Even though they have overwhelmingly won, he cannot see that from where he is on the battlefield.
"I tell thee truly, herald,
I know not if the day be ours or no..."
In the midst of parenting, in the midst of church work, helping others with painful burdens ... it doesn't really look like we're winning most of the time. But that doesn't mean that we're not. Our hope is not in what it looks like on the battlefield; our hope is in God's promises.
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