On Becoming a Warrior

"Have you ever thought, like really thought, about what you want to be in the Kingdom of God?" I said to my best friend.

It was Good Friday and I had just walked through 6 months of fighting a battle toward freedom from something I was deeply ashamed of; a battle I know now will probably be fought for the rest of my life. I knew exactly, in that moment, what I want to be in the Kingdom of God. I want to be a warrior.

Not just any warrior, a warrior who is personally able to step into the presence of God every day, not because I'm good enough but because He is good enough. And I'm able to go beyond the pain and sometimes deep agony of my shame and focus on the joy of the reality that I can now be in relationship with God. No, not ignoring it or shoving it to the side. Completely putting it off. Picking myself up every single day when I've stumbled, realizing I cannot do this on my own, and going on my face before Him for the strength to keep going. Realizing that the brokenness I carry with me into battle can only be filled by Him alone. Surrendering it all to Him believing that He will give me the victory. That's the kind of warrior I want to be.

The kind that sees the army on the ridge, the sheer numbers of strong forces, armed and ready for destruction, and looks at the small size of those on this side and rises to find the courage to charge wholeheartedly into the fight. Because He is with me. The kind that looks at the chinks in my armor, the parts of myself that are weak from previous wounds - some put there by others and some put there by myself - and is at peace. Because He is with me. The kind that knows that in the toughest point of the battle, when the arrows are flying and I'm weak and exhausted, when I've given it my all, when the voices from my past and the voices inside my head suck the life out of me, that the greatest power move is to my knees. Because He is with me. The kind that knows when fear presses in on all sides, when the threats against me come from both outside and from within that I am safe within the shelter of the Most High, no matter what chaos is going on around me.

The Lord is my light and my salvation—
    so why should I be afraid?
The Lord is my fortress, protecting me from danger,
    so why should I tremble?
² When evil people come to devour me,
    when my enemies and foes attack me,
    they will stumble and fall.
³ Though a mighty army surrounds me,
    my heart will not be afraid.
Even if I am attacked,
    I will remain confident.

⁴ The one thing I ask of the Lord—
    the thing I seek most—
is to live in the house of the Lord all the days of my life,
    delighting in the Lord’s perfections
    and meditating in his Temple.
⁵ For he will conceal me there when troubles come;
    he will hide me in his sanctuary.
    He will place me out of reach on a high rock.
⁶ Then I will hold my head high
    above my enemies who surround me.
At his sanctuary I will offer sacrifices with shouts of joy,
    singing and praising the Lord with music.

Psalms 27: 1-6

In the movie Prince Caspian, there's a scene where Edmund, Susan and Peter are fighting alongside Prince Caspian, giving it their all, and the advancing army just keeps coming. Their only hope is in Lucy running for Aslan to bring him to the battle. At this point they've tried in their own strength to crush the enemy and failed miserably, their trust in each other is hanging on by a thread, and they almost gave into finding victory from other sources other than the King himself. In this particular scene I personally love watching Susan, dressed in her fabulous armor and fighting in a dress! Fiercely attacking the enemy, and yet she knows that her strength is giving way, her faith is in Lucy's faith in Aslan, and the fear is starting to cripple and drain her. And yet it is Lucy who is the true warrior. And when Lucy comes onto the scene at the bridge, just this small, young girl facing the entire Telmarine army. Standing alone until she isn't alone. And she smiles, pulls out her dagger, taunting and daring the army to come against her. Total confidence, a serene peace about her. And the army charges. Then Aslan roars.

Some nights when the battle is the greatest, when I'm standing alone, when I feel like my greatest allies will not respond in time when I blow my horn for help, when the fear of facing yet another fight with no one next to me presses in, I hold onto that image with all my might. The Lion of Judah is with me. And He roars with a vengeance. He roars with such a fierce and intense, passionate love for His beloved. A love that shattered for ever the chains of sin and annihilated death itself. The Lion of Judah roars...

I know that even though I've put myself into the battle, that I'm the one who let the invading army in, He still calls me into His presence. He calls me to seek Him out, He calls me to delight in Him. When it was my sin that nailed Him to the cross and I thought there was no way He could ever love me, He calls me to come away with Him. And He calls me to face the enemies within that seek to take me away from Him. To weaken me and sideline me from the work of His Kingdom.

Yes, I have to fight, I have to go into the battle, but it is He who is with me that will bring the victory. I need to surrender to Him, I need to trust Him. To actively tell my fear that there is Someone greater to whom I listen and obey. That I can be fierce and tenacious in standing up to the enemy; that I can rightly discern between the truth and the lies. That the places where my armor is dented, where I am the most vulnerable are not the weakest points because they've been redeemed and renewed by the power of His blood. Where the deepest hurts, the places where I bleed internally, where Satan was able to get a foothold, have been soothed and healed by the balm of Gilead. Because I'm turning to Him to fill the pain instead of using other things to cope. Where His gentle and tender love has healed and is healing still. In looking back at all the times the enemy tried to destroy me, or make me destroy myself, and almost succeeded, I see the work of the Holy Spirit, the roar of the Lion of Judah that breathed new life into me. And He made me brave. He makes me brave. And what's more, I'm not alone. Never was. But now I'm also surrounded and supported and I know what it is to be cherished. But now I am being fully planted in the house of the Lord, and as Psalms 52:8 says "But I am like an olive tree planted in the house of God; I trust in God's unfailing love for ever and ever."

This is what it is to become a warrior.