Come and Die

      It seems that for my entire life I have asked myself the question, what bids a man to come and die? What force is so strong that a person will willingly go to an early grave? I remember first being fascinated with such an idea at age eight. I used to write stories, elaborate ones that never made it to paper. These were formed in my head- an unlimited space larger than any hard drive and one that I did not fear losing. In my stories the hero, or most often, the heroine, would set out on an adventure or a quest so large and so seemingly impossible, that one could wonder how an eight year old managed to fabricate it. In every case, whether the protagonist was a young, Irish girl, beset by divine dreams that damned her as a witch, a young queen who found the world suddenly thrust into her arms due to a betrayal, or a group of orphaned children set on a path of death to avenge their slain kin, a great choice presented itself and demanded of those, who would accept it, great and often fatal sacrifice. My stories have always been riddled with people who chose to embark on a mission much larger than themselves, one that they did not fully understand, but one that the fierce longing in their hearts and very souls would not allow room for hesitation. The heart has always allowed questions, for questions are how we discover, not only ourselves, but the world around us. You see, doubt and inquiry are two different beasts entirely.
   
     When I was ten or eleven I had a best friend whom I loved dearly. One night at a sleep-over I told her I would go to any length to protect her. The other girls laughed and asked me how far I would go to see her safe. I turned to them, somber and unsmiling, "I would die for her." They believed me. Unbeknownst to me, I had made my first commitment to something larger than myself. For greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends. Perhaps it makes sense then that I have always possessed a deep respect for members of the military. The concept that someone would willing give of their life to defend the lives of others drives at my heart and invokes passion in my soul. There is no greater honor. Even now, I am in love with a man, a soldier, who will undoubtedly risk his life for others. Tears grace my eyes thinking about it. These tears are complicated. They hold sadness and fear, but also great wonder. I have never been so proud of a person, and when I think of him and the selfless cause that he fights for, I long to be there. My wish is not just to be with him, though that would be a dream, but with all my heart I long for something worth dying for. Not long ago, I  realized that every character I had ever written into existence, who went to die for something, was me. Even at age eight I was searching for a cause worthy of my life.

     I think I have finally found something worth dying for. Instilled deep within me, is a desire to see people saved. This love for Africa that I possess is not only a calling for my life, it is a calling for my death. For all my life God has asked me the question, will you die for me and the work that I have called you to? Will you die for the children whose lives are torn apart by greed and hate? Will you die for something so much greater than who you are? What are you willing to die for? I have been afraid! I will admit it. Death is foreign to us- a people so well acquainted with life. I don't wish to die, and the truth is that I don't even know how or when I will pass. All I know is that when God does call me, I pray that it is the result of a greater work. I pray that my death brings freedom and peace to others. I pray that it is a source of inspiration and strength. And I pray that through it, others will see the glory of God.

       So, what bids a man to come and die? What makes the soldier pick up his gun and enter a battle that perhaps would not affect him otherwise? I still don't possess those answers. Perhaps it's different for each person or perhaps it is all the same. I know, for myself, to die for a cause that serves to save people and bring them to freedom, is the greatest love.

       Below, I have posted a link to an interview with a remarkable, young photojournalist who was recently killed due to conflict in the Central African Republic. This woman had a passion to change the course of history and I cannot help but mourn her death as if it were the loss of my own dreams. My prayer is that I can continue her legacy by picking up the work that she left behind. For you see, Camille found something worth dying for. I pray that we all become so lucky. Because when you do find something that you will die for, it is then that you know you are truly living for something.

http://petapixel.com/2013/10/22/hidden-world-south-sudan-interview-photojournalist-camille-lepage/