I knew we were going into battle and I was pumped. God was
doing amazing things within our army to prepare us. He showed us how to dump
our extra baggage so we would be as light and agile as possible. We were
gearing up, carefully strapping on each piece of armor, tightly lacing up our
boots and testing the weight of the sword in our hand. Tense with anticipation
we stood before God, waiting for His signal to begin the advance toward the
battleground. Excitement and nervousness
ebbed and flowed throughout the army. We were ready.
As soon as we stepped foot on the battleground I was
surrounded. I couldn’t make out their shape but I could feel them. The city is
covered in a grey haze, which appears to most as just pollution, but I’m convinced
it’s the shadows of the enemy’s army flying overhead. As my fellow soldier
said, I’ve never been in a place where the territory is more the enemy’s than
God. And we are certainly not welcome on his turf.
It didn’t take long before the enemy launched one of his
flaming arrows in my direction. A voice whispered in my ear that I wasn’t
beautiful. I wasn’t skinny enough. I wasn’t funny or nice or good enough. No
man will ever love me. It’s an arrow I know all too well. I’ve known it all my
life. Several of the arrows struck me before I realized I was being attacked
but as soon as I did I raised my shield of faith. I blocked the rest of those
arrows but the first few hit their target. We were only a few days into battle
and I was already wounded.
I tightened my belt of truth, repositioned my shield of
faith, sharpened my sword and stood ready for the next attack.
The enemy is tricky though and his next arrow caught me off
guard. It came in the dead of night while I was sleeping. Many of the soldiers
in our army have been having trouble sleeping and those of us who do sleep have
extremely vivid dreams. One night I had a dream that my close friend at home
had committed suicide. I was devestated. Even after I woke up and realized it
was a dream, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. I was
tormented all day knowing I couldn’t
talk to him to make sure he was alright. I did the only thing I could
do- talked to God about it and he reassured me that my friend was okay.
Several days later I made an appointment to sit in the park
with a friend and answer her questions about God. I told her the whole story,
explained how we can talk to God, and how much he cares about us. The enemy was
not going to allow that without a fight.
The next attack came from all directions. I was still
dodging the arrows aimed at my self esteem and was now being fed lies about my
fellow warriors. I found myself more sensitive than usual and was getting my
feelings hurt over things that would normally not bother me. Then I dreamed
about going home and seeing my family and spent the whole next dwelling on how
much I miss them.
The problem was that in my mind, I was ready for a battle
that would be won easily. I was convinced that I would run into battle waving
my sword in the air, slashing down everything that stood in my way and then
stand victoriously claiming the territory for God. I expected to meet
resistance from the enemy but for some reason didn’t think I would ever be
wounded.
I’ve learned that the biggest battleground is not in front
of me but inside of me. I fight by talking to God and sharing His story with my
new friends but the enemy fights back in my mind. I have to battle my thoughts
everyday. I have to “take captive every thought and make it obedient to
God.” I now realize that he’s been teaching me how to do this for the last
several months in preparation for this battle.
After only a few days I was tired and worn out. I didn’t
want to fight anymore. When I talked to God it felt like my voice was muffled,
as if I talking into a thick blanket. The darkness was weighing on my chest and
I felt like I was suffocating. I was ready to give up.
I realized, however, that this is not the time to lay down
my sword and surrender. This battle is about life and death. This is serious
business and God trusts me to fight for him.
During our morning time together, I confessed that I was
struggling and the entire time I was describing the attacks, heads were nodding
in agreement. Everyone in the room was struggling. We brought it before God,
layed our burdens at his feet, and asked for the strength to keep fighting. And
he provided, as he always does, because he is faithful.
The battle continues. Even when I’m tired and wounded, the
battle rages on around me. The enemy never rests. So I must continue to be on
constant guard. Raise my shield. Wield my sword. The good news is we already
know who wins this war.
Please talk to God on our behalf. Talking to Him breaks
things loose and gives us strength to continue the fight. We will be here
another couple of weeks and will not be in contact until the holiday season.
Much love to you all.
