Welcome home, Children of Men

Children of Men, oh how I've missed you.

Nearly two years ago, I sent you out into the world to do good. It was a mission of charity, to spread the word of your greatness to the non-believers.

Yet you had a tough mission. You were saddled with two pretty big non-believers, a man and his fiancee, and your mission to convert them was not easy. In fact, you spent much of your mission enclosed in a box, unable to see the light of day, as your non-believers moved their non-believing activities from an apartment to a house, and took the better part of a year to fully unpack. In that darkness, how is there any way to succeed?

In fact, you failed. Your mission was not accomplished. Last Friday night, you returned back home, never having achieved what it was that you set out to achieve.

But it was not your fault. They just didn't understand the message you had to share. They may have picked you up a couple times and said "Nah, not tonight." You may think that in those moments, there might have been something more you could have done. You could have cried out to them and said "Yes tonight! Yes, watch me! I'm great! And if you just pop me in your DVD player, you'll find out just how great I truly am!"

But you don't have the ability to cry out. You can't alter your image in any way, to try to push a naysayer off the top of the fence. That naysayer has to learn to accept Children of Men in his/her heart, for him/herself. And sometimes naysayers just aren't ready to accept.

So you were returned by the potential converts, who had not been converted. They decided to release you from your obligation, so that you may spend your energies on more willing converts, who are more ready for your message.

And even though you had Run Lola Run, another great prophet, by your side, it was you that I really missed. It was you whose message I wanted to hear on multiple occasions, once when my sister and her boyfriend were visiting, once on another occasion that doesn't immediately jump to mind. But when I wanted you, you weren't there. You were off in a moving box somewhere, your voice silenced.

Well, I'm glad you are back. I'll hear your voice. I'll see the images you have to show me. And I'll appreciate you for all that you're worth.

And when the time is right, when you've licked your wounds long enough, I'll send you back out into the world, to spread the word of your greatness once again.