Word for the Weary Soldier

Every day feels like a battle - a battle against the flesh.  His Word sinks deep into my soul, cuts deep through my hard heart and reveals the sin inside.  And I battle.  Guilt and shame thrust me into the battlefield and I swing a sword and throw up a shield only to be hit again and fall into a muddy pit of pride, anger, and self.

Why do I lose every battle?

How do I win over sin?

Grace.

The word falls over me as I lay wounded and muddy.

Grace.

I don't have to win the battle over my sin.  It isn't my job - not mine alone, anyway.

He comes to my rescue, lifts me out of my dirty sins, cleans me off and reminds me that if I would just rest in the knowledge that He's there beside me. . .  Well, He fights the battle for me when I put down my sword and let Him shield me. . . 

For the soldier of God, fighting in the battle against sin, perhaps victory comes not to the one who fights sin the hardest. . .  Maybe it comes to the one who falls the hardest into the arms of the Savior.

Praying for the grace to just invest more in my relationship with God - the every-moment-of-the-day time spent praying, reading, meditating, seeking, praising, and seeing Him - my only hope in the battle.

Saving Me from Myself ~ A Personalized Telling of Psalm 91

When I step outside my hectic day to spend a quiet moment with Him,
I find the way to stay with Him. . . all day.
Then I can say, with laughter on lips, "He's here!
A refuge for me. . . all day!"

He saves me from myself: the sins that trip me up and throw me down,
The sins that make me sick in mind and body and soul.
When I'm most deeply submerged in those sins, He spreads His wings and beckons.
I can hide there, in Him.
I can find protection in Him, in the truth of His Word.
I can find relief from my sins, the anxiety that makes me watch the night clock,
The worries that go right to my heart when I rise,
The panic that makes me weak and stomach sick,
And the fear that wrecks my day. . . if I will just take that moment with Him.

All around me, they fall in their sins. . .
Family and friends, even, collapse in a pile of sorrow and self-inflicted grief;
But I can be saved from this - I need not be swallowed whole.
I look around
And I see what comes of sin - of giving oneself over to the pull of it all.

I must make the Lord, alone, my refuge;
I must dwell in Him, dwell on Him.
For with my mind set on God and my soul finding rest in Him
I am saved from myself - that sickness, that sin, no longer has a hold on me or my home.
Angels around me, surround me
To keep watch over me, to help me.
Just as I fall, I call out and they catch me,
Providing a buffer - saving me from myself.
I can face these anxieties!
From the greatest fear to the smallest worry, I can face it all. . . if I'll just take that moment with Him.

May the Lord say of me, "She's oh so human and falls again and again;
But she loves Me.  I will help her; I will love her.
She calls on My name each time she falls; I will lift her up out of this. . . again.
I will be with her through every temptation;
I will deliver her.
I will show her the satisfaction of a life lived in Me.
I will save her from herself."

Emotions

Fear, anxiety, worry, depression, sadness. . .  All these emotions, these regular plagues. . . I fight them with gratitude. . .  I make the choice to set my mind on His gifts:

* Red, metallic nail polish on little bitty toes.
* Being listened to.
* A husband who tells me to "say no" to myself.
* A cuddle after discipline.
* Time alone - quiet - slow thoughts.
* Gray, hot haze.
* Sunflowers coming into bloom.
* What to do with all those tomatoes!?
* Parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins. . .
* Spouse and children. . .
* Cheap treasures at the thrift store.
* A found bike.
* Faith:  it's all that holds me up sometimes. . . Even when I doubt, I cling to faith.
* Knowing myself.
* Borrowed books.
* Listening to a good dad. . . gleaning.
* Hammocks.
* Sweaty, red child faces.
* Child-rigged tree swings.
* Pyrex - a new old love.
* Feeling slightly more refreshed than the day before.
* A belly-ache that turns out to be nothing.
* Kids telling the days of the week by family rituals.
* 3yo bringing me the prayer book.
* 5yo asking me to do morning prayers again after he wakes late.
* A rough day that finally comes to a yawning end.
* Weekends.
* Benedryl.
* 3 skillets to cook Saturday-morning pancakes on.
* Time alone with my 3yo.
* Answered prayers.
* Lightening that just missed - up-close - pretty awesomely beautiful!
* Milk and honey.
* Finally getting to talk to my mom.
* A cat nap on a Sunday afternoon.
* Warm popcorn, fresh of the stove.
* The loud clap of thunder that scares me into the arms of God.