We lucky few, we band of brothers; having shared the trenches and the charge, fought for and along with each other; having in the same hour and moment drawn the mighty sword of the Spirit and in the great name of our Savior taken the light of God to people who dwell in deep darkness. Indeed these fellow travelers have beautiful dirt-stained feet for they have carried the gospel - each one.
These comrades, this company, this fellowship, this band of misfits, these torn up kids; the wretched and beautiful, broken yet whole, stupid yet genius - gone from home to come back different. No longer can they take up the life they lived before, there is no seamless return to be had, change must take place. We've been to the front-lines and done sorties into the territory of the devil and Christ had bound him wrist and foot.
We've seen the awesome power of God on high in a world of idols, and the same God who fights has won and will finally win in India has and will win in America. Wichita must be a beginning - 16 ignorant Americans set out, but now, now by the grace of God and the power of Jesus through the indwelling of the Holy Spirit 16 warriors return.
The charge is clear, the battle cry rings out, come and die. In work and school, in play and love, in death and life come and die to live. For there is a life outside of pretenses and football, there is a beauty more potent than a woman, more enrapturing than the mountains - his name is Jesus Christ and King, Lord of all and Friend, devastating Warrior to opposition and Healer to the called - our names are written on his heart, our names are graven in his hands for the High King of Heaven his victory he has won.