Fight

Fight.

Just the word, “fight.”

It screams at me from deep within. Again and again.

When I watch a marriage crumble. And I think of all the things that might have prevented it.
When everything a child sees and hears has the potential to destroy their soul.
When statistics threaten and history is unforgiving and victory seems hopeless.
When stuff fills my days and pushes the Word out.
When lies pervade the universe, and I begin to lose my grip on the One Truth.

What do I do?

What must I do?

Fight.

 It is not a game. It is a war.

So I fight.

Why do I place high walls of protection around a marriage I don’t yet have?
Because I may have one someday.
And others are watching.
And I’m protecting their marriages, too.
I’m fighting.

Why do I tremble at the thought of raising children in this world?
Because that world wishes them dead.
And though I haven’t yet met them, I already wish them life.
So for their sake and for more, I fight.

Why do I walk with the broken and defeated and tell them there is a Way?
Because their past destines them.
And “people don’t just change,” so I’m told.
But I believe, without a doubt, that Jesus can beat all odds.
So I pour truth in every crevice of their thinking, because I’m helping them fight.

Why do I empty my schedule, turn off the technology, and go to the park every chance I get?
Because if I want to soak in the Word, I have to plan it and shut out the noise.
Otherwise, my days will fill with stuff. Just stuff.
And I know He is better.
So I’m fighting.

Why do I imagine myself wielding a shiny sword and slaying dragons on the daily?
Maybe because that’s what I’m doing in a world many people don’t see.

I’m literally fighting every day.

And till my dying breath, I’ll fight some more.

Because life with God is worth fighting for.

[image credit: pixabay.com]


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