When I hear the word "valiant", I see one scene. I see a rolling moor crowned with wild heather, with grey skies above and the waves of a crystal loch peeping in the distance. I see a Scottish warrior clad in a kilt atop a shaggy pony. As he gallops across the open country, I see the glint of a sword on his side.
Now, sadly, I do not live in Scotland, nor do I know anybody who would pose in a kilt for me. This scene was far out of my reach. Since my idea of valiant was not going to work, I was vainly racking my brain for anything that suggested "valiant". (By the way, did you know that the expression "racking your brain" comes from when they tortured prisoners by stretching them on the rack? It's terrible, right?) Finally, I found a fairly realistic plastic gun in my brother's room, and went outside in the cold, wet day. This picture is what I ended up with. It isn't exciting or even amusing, but I like the colors, and the grayness, and the sharpness of it. Even though it isn't quite what I was thinking, I am mildly pleased with it.
But we have to remember, even if we can't be fierce warriors traversing the wilds of Scotland, we can still be valiant.
"For not with sword's loud clashing, nor roll of stirring drums,
But deeds of love and mercy, the heavenly kingdom comes!"
-Lead On, O King Eternal
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