Just One Moment in Battle: Instant Failure

And all is well, tho faith and form 
Be sundered in the night of fear; 
Well roars the storm to those that hear 
A deeper voice across the storm. 
~Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809ā€“1892) 


above all, taking the shield of faith with which you will be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked one.
~Ephesians 6:16


JOY in battle! Loud, intense, violent. Strength and JOY! Block, parry, wait, pivot, thrust. To finally STAND in the power of The L_RD! The transmission of goodness, light and Love through his being brings a sense of wonder heretofore unknown. The armor fits. The armor works.  

“Hey, wait a minute…” warrior notices something shiny off to the side of the hottest part of the battle. He can’t quite see it. “What is that? Maybe i should go check this out. Anyway, the action is getting a little hot right around here. i could use a short break…”   WHAM!!!

Warrior’s world fades to black.

Sometime later (he knows not how long) the noise and smell of battle begin to reach his mind. And warrior is suddenly aware that he is flat on his back. Whoa! i better get up!

“Stay down. I will help you up in a minute.” Warrior hears His Voice. There is no doubt about Who is speaking. Warrior freezes. At first he is paralyzed with fear, but then he opens his eyes and looks up. Standing above him – covering him – is simply the most stunning Figure he has ever seen. Beautiful, Strong, Noble, Captivating… He is Awesomely powerful, with muscles rippling and the biggest, but most serious grin on His face. All the action of the battle has no effect on Him. He seems only intent on protecting the fallen warrior. It’s HIM! Oh wow, the words just fail…

“Stay down. Let me check your armor. It never breaks. It doesn’t even dent. It’s really Good equipment, built of immutable stuff from within my very Self. But sometimes it is not properly fitted on you children. Sometimes you kids try to use only portions of the integrated weapon system I designed.”

Warrior lays back and lets his Captain go to work. But suddenly he notices that this Mighty One isn’t wearing any armor of His own. Just a beautiful robe and a crown. “Why no armor my LORD?” The Captain of the hosts just laughs. “I have no need. I AM the things that make up your armor, child. I make this armor of Myself to protect you in these battles.” The Captain finishes His inspection and adjustments.

“Get up. Stand!” And He offers His Hand to help the warrior up. Oh, beloved, the Hand of the L_RD.  So beautiful, so scarred, so strong. Wholly, Holey, Holy… unfathomable. Warrior reaches, but is INSTANTLY on his feet… totally balanced, ready to go.  “How did that just happen?,” wonders warrior.

“You lowered your shield child. You lowered your shield and got hit by one of those nasty fiery darts right in the chest. My righteousness covering your heart protected you, but you got knocked out for a few moments.” Going on, He said, “you looked off to the side of the battle at the spoils being thrown into the fire. you thought they were important, but they weren’t. you thought maybe you all should hold on to some of that material so you could fight the battle if I were not around. As you kept looking away from the battle, you dropped your shield to get a look. That was a bad idea My child. That can be a very costly mistake.”

Warrior agrees with his Captain, “surely, you are right my Lord. What shall i do from here?”

“Shake it off soldier. Stand. Keep that shield I gave you up where it belongs. I made it just the right size and weight for My purposes for you in this battle. Just use what I gave you.”

“Yes L_RD!” cries warrior. Warrior feels this absolute fullness of Joy building within him. This seems directly tied to the fact that he has been in the presence of this Champion. No, it is surely because of it. And from this joy flows strength. Strength that just makes him KNOW that everything is going to be fine!

Suddenly, the shield takes its proper position, almost of its own accord.

To battle!

Faith laughs at the shaking of the spear; unbelief trembles at the shaking of a leaf, unbelief starves the soul; faith finds food in famine and a table in the wilderness.
Robert Cecil (1563ā€“1612)

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