Skip to main content

Whose Battle Is It?

I woke up weary this morning. Not tired. Weary, emotionally weary. Strong emotions - both my own and those of others in my proximity - exhaust me, and the past two years have been full of them. I think it's catching up with me. My soul felt like an anvil as I pulled myself out of bed. I made my coffee, took my vitamins, and sat down to pray. I began by telling God about my weariness. It was accompanied by all the whining that goes along with that type of prayer. Then I opened my Bible. I read Psalm 35.

Contend, O Lord, with those who contend with me;
Fight against those who fight against me.
2 Take hold of [a]buckler and shield
And rise up for my help.
3 Draw also the spear and [b]the battle-axe to meet those who pursue me;
Say to my soul, “I am your salvation." (NASB via Biblegateway.com)


I began to pray these verses, and as I did, my weariness became faith-instilled. The anvil broke lose. I recalled Jacob's fight with the angel that lasted all through the night. Jacob wouldn't let go until the angel had blessed him. Neither would I.

 How often do we "fight the good fight of faith" (1Tim 6:12) in our own strength?  How often do we "resist the devil (so that) he'll flee" (James 4:7) by our own might? We walk into our daily battles somehow believing that we're strong enough in and of ourselves. Even when we know we're not, we still do it - or at least, I do. 

 As I prayed these verses in Psalm 35, I realized that my part in the battlefield of daily life is to remain in Christ. My part is to depend on Him, to trust that this battle - today's battle - is the Lord's.

Comments

  1. AeronutMay 1, 2013 at 9:55 AM

    Thanks, Lori!! I feel weary often, and more often I forget I'm not battling life alone!

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

How Do You Wait?

The barren one is now in her sixth month.  Not one promise from God is empty of power  for nothing is impossible with God. Luke 1: 37 The Passion Translation I've never thought that much about Elizabeth. Gabriel speaks here to Mary - the mother-to-be of none other than GOD Himself! Who has a thought to spare for this side character in THE story of divine visitation? God come to earth. Wow. Talk about a headline for the New York Times! Why does Gabriel even mention Elizabeth? I don't know, but I'm glad he did.  I read these verses with a different perspective this morning.  "The barren one." Elizabeth is now past childbearing years. It's not a secret. Everyone in her community knows she's barren (it's obvious). The life part of her life is over. There is no hope for her to have her dream - a life like her friends have. She's different from her family, her neighbors. In a time when children are everything, she has nothing.  And now it's too late...
1 comment
Read more

Rethinking My Rightness

I used to label myself as a conservative Christian. Used to. Lately, I'm almost ashamed to even be called a "christian" (that lowercase "c" is on purpose). It seems that over the last eight to ten years, being "christian" has become more about being right than about being Christ-like. It's more about enforcing a perceived level of moral behavior that has nothing to do with a person's heart (what was that Jesus said about a "whitewashed tomb" in Matthew 23:27?). Being "christian" has become more about power, control, and supremacy than it is about loving your neighbor or your God. I'm deeply saddened by the current "christian" focus on the sins of others (LGBTQ anyone?), by the lack of humility, by the pain inflicted (knowingly and unknowingly) on those who are unlike us. I've recently seen the ugliness of my own whitewashed tomb. I don't like it. I cried to see that my heart contains such haughtiness an...
1 comment
Read more

Kippy Is Born

I awoke in the middle of the night or so it seemed for it was still dark outside my window. I was groggy, but I knew I'd heard something. What was it? The puppies! I was awake in an instant. Glady was having her puppies! I scrambled out of bed as fast as I could and ran down the two flights of stairs that took me to where my mom and one of my three sisters sat and watched Glady, lying in an open box filled with old blankets. She was licking one of three tiny black puppies. I'd never seen anything so small that was actually a real live puppy! They were so small even I could have fit one in the palm of my hand - and I was only 7 years old. They were cuter than any stuffed animal I'd ever seen. I wanted so much to hold one, but my mom said that Glady wouldn't like that very much, so I just watched as she licked them (Mom said that was her way of giving them a bath) and as they snuggled with her. They couldn't even open their eyes yet. It wasn't too long before the ...
1 comment
Read more