How to Really Fight

Hearing the news, the ache of this world, I put up my fists, ready to fight.

A seed fell. Seeds fall everyday. Lives laid down for the sake of the gospel. Eternal impact yet never making the evening news. I dust off my pen and write, fight. Sending the news to as many as I know, writing to bring together a wave of prayers to cover and drench a momma and two children who need His strength, the strength the breath of our prayers lift.

The crazy ramblings of the world, clutched in sin's grasp. Violence. Innocence betrayed. We have all felt the sting of the insaneness, bow our heads, leak the tears, shake our fists. The enemy comes to steal, kill and destroy. How do I fight such.

In my simpleness, I believe that His Word holds the key to every situation, even ones such as these. Doesn't Jesus know. Wrapped in His words, His life, His love beckoning me to the pages. The ultimate fighter. I desire to learn from Him alone.

Jesus knows our heartache. My ache today with clenched fists. I lay down the gloves to pick up Him. His friend, his cousin, the prophet who knew Him best. Clad in simple clothes with honey and locust breath, John the Baptist knew Jesus. Their relationship ran deep. The only one who truly knew Jesus as Messiah.

John sits in prison, innocent of any sin. Then a party with a girl that dances for the men. The leader brags and flaunts his power telling her 'anything, I'll give it to you.' She asks for the head of Jesus' friend, John. It's delivered to her on a tray, mocking the stupidity of the reason he died.

Jesus knows. I follow Him through the pages. How did he fight? Hearing the news, he went away to be alone. I have been there, we all have. Wanting to be by ourselves to sort it out, to cry, to mourn. He was the same, fully human like me.

The only difference, a group clamored, followed him to his quiet place. How did he react. He took up his gloves and fought. He didn't rebuke them. He didn't scream from the depths of his need to tell them to simply go away. He met them. He healed them. He led them because he knew they were sheep without a shepherd. He fought the real enemy.

The drunken party guests and the flamboyant dancer, they didn't kill John. The enemy came to steal, kill and destroy. Jesus knew the real enemy. He took aim, and fought. He healed, destroying the enemy's works. He loved, a weapon to destroy all tactics of the thief. He taught the kingdom of God and seed took root in hearts, destroying any weeds planted.

To really fight, to wage war

"For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms."

we realize the true enemy and take aim.