There I was, lying face down, in the middle of a patch of tall weeds. My heart was racing and my body was trying to be as small as possible. I could feel the tension and fear rising up in me. I began to breathe faster and harder and I had to choose for the moment very consciously between frozen fear and courageous fear. My eyes darted out my path of action and then my body followed. I pulled myself behind a big wooden blockade and caught my breath. Safe for the moment I regrouped my mind and heart together and then slowly peered over the barrier in search of the enemy. I must keep my helmet on, my awareness up, my body down, my gun out and my ammo ready and my enemy in sight.

It is a game. But I am immersed in a battle with real consequences, weapons that work, ammo that runs out, and an enemy that would like to take me out. Metaphors play out in our heads. Etruth steps out from behind. Understanding settles in my heart. The game ends, I get cleaned up and settle down to rest as I find myself surprisingly tired. The game is over, but the metaphor plays on distributing truth to my heart in layers of understanding. Now the players sit together for dinner – friend and foe now on the same side. Stories are exaggerated, laughter frequent, war wounds shown off… and the spontaneous discussion of reality turns to metaphor and the truth emerges in a way that will stick with us much longer than the paint marks on our clothes.

Paintball – you got to do it!