For nearly a year, I’ve been traveling the world as a missionary. This has become my life. This is what I live for. And now, I’m finally returning home. Returning home feels new, exciting, different. The thought of what it is going to feel like hugging my mom again and extending a kiss to my dad’s cheek for the first time in 11 months. I can’t help but wonder what it will be like when I get to finally embrace my sister in my arms as I have so many times before. The joy that will come over me when I get to lock arms with my brother and share the laughs that come with strolling by elderly strangers in the grocery store. These are all simple little moments. Yet, I had no idea how much I would come to yearn for these things one day. Not just one day, but 321 days to be exact. And now, in just 13 short days, these moments that I’ve been replaying in my head all this time will finally come to fruition.
I have experienced so much this year, so many things I’ll never forget. In many ways, I feel like a soldier returning home after war. Let me guess, you’re probably thinking something along the lines of “did she really just compare being a missionary to a soldier in combat?!” And the answer to your question would be yes, I did. They are two completely different things, I am aware of that. But in a sense, they really aren’t as different as you think. When you become a Christian, spiritual warfare hits hard. Before I left to go on the World Race I knew that opposition would come. The fact that I was about to travel across the world to spread the Gospel absolutely outraged the enemy. I became a huge threat to his plan and my God-given boldness, once found, became a thorn in his agenda. He began to fear me and to fear the things I would accomplish to advance the Kingdom of God. That’s what happens, he comes after you full throttle, hoping to break you in order to remove you as a threat to him. This year, God has wrecked my soul and put me through the fire of refinement. I have been shot at by the enemy more times than I can count, and each time it left a rigid scar. I’ve fought all year long. Not with guns and grenades, but with prayer and resilience. I’ve had to fight for unity, understanding, patience, humility, friends, family, endurance, faith, all sorts of things. I’ve been hurt deeply. I’ve acquired many wounds, wounds that sometimes come with obeying God and living a life fully surrendered to Him. I know what it’s like to crave home, and for it to be nothing but a memory at times. I know what it’s like to have your body heavy with armor, battling on the front lines. Not in the form of bulletproof vests and helmets, but with the armor of God. My body has been armed with the belt of truth buckled around my waist, a breastplate of righteousness hanging upon my chest, my feet sandaled with readiness for the gospel of peace, the shield of faith covering my every inch, the helmet of salvation clasped tightly, and the sword of the Spirit.
Ephesians 6:10-17
“A final word: Be strong in the Lord and in His mighty power. Put on all of God’s armor so that you will be able to stand firm against all strategies of the devil. For we are not fighting against flesh-and-blood enemies, but against evil rulers and authorities of the unseen world, against mighty powers in this dark world, and against evil spirits in the heavenly places. Therefore, put on every piece of God’s armor so you will be able to resist the enemy in the time of evil. Then after the battle you will still be standing firm. Stand your ground, putting on the belt of truth and the body armor of God’s righteousness. For shoes, put on the peace that comes from the Good News so that you will be fully prepared. In addition to all of these, hold up the shield of faith to stop the fiery arrows of the devil. Put on salvation as your helmet, and take the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.”
Although my war has looked very different from a soldier in combat’s, it’s still nonetheless been a war. A war against the enemy trying to make me settle for less than God’s best in my life. A war against myself, my very own flesh. My enemy might not be terrorists from the middle east, but he goes by the name of Lucifer, the father of lies. Yes, I’ve been fighting a battle. The most unfortunate part is that this war will follow me home. This might look like standing and fighting against lukewarm Christianity. Resisting the temptations of luxury materials and countless other things that are so readily available in the United States. The temptation to believe that what I experienced this year was all in my head, that it wasn’t really God. It might be a different war, but it will still be a war.
But here’s the good news: God’s power will forever trump Satan and his nasty schemes. His light will always overcome that darkness. My God is an all-powerful God. My confidence is in Him. And all year, He has planted His strength in me to be able to fight back and to fight hard. He has made me a warrior, His warrior. And as His daughter, I will forever have the strength needed to fight back as long as I look to Him and ask for it. He has given me everything I need to fight this fight, and then some. I am stronger than ever and I’m not willing to budge when it comes to compromising my communion with God. He is my commander-in-chief. He has made me fierce in His name. And guess what? I’m still here and ready for battle. So as my righteous anger would say, “Back the hell up, Satan.”
