I’ve wanted to write about this for a while, but I wasn’t ready. On Sunday the Lord renewed my strength (to use a bit of “Christianese”), and now I think I can write it.
The Christian life is war. (You’ve heard that, right? But until you realize it yourself, it doesn’t mean much.)
And we forget. We forget that our enemy walks about as a roaring lion, looking for anyone to devour. You leave one gate even slightly–slightly–unguarded, and he’ll come charging in.
Actually, “charging” isn’t his only tactic. He might slowly offer you something: a thought, a book, a movie. See if you take it.
“Why, yes, that looks interesting. I believe I’ll check it out.”
So he hands you more. And more. And pretty soon he’s kicked back in a recliner in your heart’s secret room, wreaking havoc, and you wonder how on earth you got so powerless. So fearful. So covered in guilt.
(Just take my word for it.)
He has a lot of weapons. And once he gets you down, even a little, he loves to pour on the guilt.
“You can’t take that to Jesus. Think how ashamed He’ll be of you. You’ve disgraced Him. How can you look Him in the face? You’re gonna have to fight this on your own.”
Of course, we can’t. But we try. And fail. Which invites more guilt. Until, even though we know we’re saved, our hearts can hardly believe it. Certainly, they can’t act on it.
But that’s not the way it’s supposed to be.
We do not have to live in defeat. We do not have to let Satan lurk in our hidden rooms. We do not have to make friends with the thoughts he throws into our heads.
We do not have to be afraid to face Jesus.
In fact, going to Jesus is the only way we’re going to win. You have to fall on your face (metaphorically speaking; or physically, that’s okay, too) and lay your heart before Him. All of it. Because anything you try to handle on your own gives Satan potential. Satan is stronger than you. He’s not stronger than Jesus.
I’m not talking about getting saved. I’m talking about surrendering pieces of your life that you resumed control of, probably without realizing it. Give it back to Jesus.
I’m not particularly good at this.
By nature, I’m a passive person. And surrendering to Jesus is no passive act. It takes attention to jerk my own leash when I’m wandering off and say, “Darcy, get back here. Jesus didn’t say you could go down there.”
But I, for one, am sick of wishy-washy Christianity in my life. I’m sick of slipping and, instead of getting up, wailing over the fact that my enemy threw me in the mud again. I am a princess of the Kings of kings. I’m supposed to be a warrior-princess, not a mousy-timid princess.
I can only be a warrior-princess if I stick close to the Commander of the army, the Crown Prince himself. Yes, He is merciful with my mistakes. (If He wasn’t, I’d have to drop my sword right now.) But He is also encouraging, bold, fearless. He gives me His own power and expects me to stand up and use it according to His battle plans.
Like I said, I’m not especially good at this. But, oh, I’m going to try.
I want to be a warrior.