From the cliff, windswept, watch I the battle between Titans. You put on a show, Lord: the crashing seas become foam, yet it is only decades hence that the rocks will crumble.
Your forces are arrayed to love the world; I need but wave my hand and the waves will crash against stony hearts.
Let the winds and show not distract me, Lord. There is plenty of work to be done.
I am no commander but the one who carries water for the wounded.