Here I am. Battle weary.
The armor is so very heavy. When I first put it on, it seemed easy, natural. But now, it’s nowhere near natural. Just weighty and ill-fitting.
As necessary as I know it is, I long to shed it. Instead of marching, I long to dance. Instead of long nights of vigilant watch, I long for peaceful sleep. I desire victory.
I desire celebration.
Oh, but this battle seems far from over. My heart cries – how much longer, Lord? I’m ready to celebrate, I am tired of this battle armor.
How can I celebrate during the battle?
My thoughts wander towards images of military men and women enjoying simple pleasures – magazines, music, letters, pictures. They celebrate in the little things. Even in the battle, a joke, a thought, a thank you can provoke a celebration.
I will search for those stolen moments. I will embrace them and hang on to them for dear life. Those tiny little glitches, the unexpected joys, they will cause celebration in my heart. That moment when I get lost in a big hug from small arms. Or when the kind words are spoken. Or when I find myself lost in worship, much like one gets lost in a daydream.
Who can say how long a battle will rage? Who can say if it will be hard or harder than it has ever been before?
Only God. He knows each moment. He has prepared us, he has equipped us. He gives us our moments of celebration in our battle. He hands them to us, as if to say “Hang in there. The day of rejoicing is coming. Here’s a small sliver of what’s to come.”
So, heavy armor, battle scarred shield, battle worn sword onward we will go. It may be slow going, or our victory may come quick as lightening, but either way, we will go – forward.