Monday, February 11, 2013

A Child in the Battle

I've worked in a lot of ministry positions. I have never had to look the Enemy in the face as often as I do in this job. There is constant evidence of his attempts to steal, kill, and destroy. The battles are frightening, traumatic, bloody. And sometimes, I feel defeated. Sometimes (more than once lately), I walk off the floor mid-shift and go upstairs and lay down. I just lay face down on the floor. Not in surrender or faithfulness or anything beautiful-- just plain defeat and exhaustion and anger. And swearing. This job makes me cuss. A lot.

On a particularly bad day, I left work completely numb. I felt beaten up. I went to volunteer at youth group. I was a crappy volunteer that day. There was a time of worship. The youth pastor, Mike Snyder, asked the students a question. No one answered. And then Mike said, "Are you afraid to answer? You don't need to be afraid. You are powerful." And then he played music and talked simultaneously, because as you know, all the coolest youth pastors are also musicians. And he said, "You don't have to walk around like you are powerless. You have incredible power." Oh yeah.

I don't know how many more blogs I am going to write on this topic. Maybe a million. Maybe you will get tired of reading them. But I will write them until I know it by heart: the battles will be bloody, but the war is won. There is a great force of evil in this world, but our enemy is not of equal power to our great God. 

"You are of God, little children, and have overcome them: because greater is he that is in you, than he that is in the world." 1 John 4:4

I am afraid when I see the battles raging because I know the truth: I am a little child, and I am very, very afraid. I hold up my own abilities and quickly realize that they are dwarfed by the task and the Enemy. My small body cannot withstand these blows. I start fighting battles that don't matter just so I can win something. I freeze in my fear. I run away upstairs and lock the door and throw myself down in frustration.

"My battles," He whispers, "My armor, my people, my healing, my Son, my solution." And finally, "My daughter."

And He holds my small scared self, there on the floor. Here in this chair. Whispering again that He made me with Himself in mind. It is okay to be small and scared, I can make it, I can do this, with Him because He is big and strong and knows the ending. I praise this God, strong and kind and mysteriously in love with us.

Over and over on repeat:  "Whom Shall I Fear (God of Angel Armies)", Chris Tomlin

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