Battle Cry

Ephesians 6:13-17 "Therefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand. Stand therefore, having girded your waist with truth, having put on the breastplate of righteousness, and having shod your feet with the preparation of the gospel of peace; above all, taking the shield of faith with which you will be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked one. And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God."

I remember learning about these verses in Sunday School. We'd dress up as warriors with our armor. We sang songs about going into battle, spiritual battle that is, protected by the thick, unfailing armor of God. But do I actually use my armor? Have I taken it up? Because I most certainly can just leave it aside and not take advantage of the tools God has given me.

I go out into battle far too often without my armor. I fight the fights that end in bloodshed (usually mine). I do it all by myself. Why do I do this? How many times do I have to fail before I realize I can't do it all by myself?

"Having girded your waist with truth"

I especially despise lying. With my children, it is one of the things that brings swift and immediate discipline. I will not tolerate it. Be who you are. Say what you mean. No place for deception. That being said, I allow far too much that is not the truth into our home and hearts. The television, music, the internet, the media in all forms. Lies. Just lies. Lies that say you have to look this way, talk this way, or be this way to amount to anything in the world. Lies that say God's way is only for those loony conservatives who just don't get it. Lies that say the world is a bright, shiny place where there's no pain, no consequences, and no one, single, absolute Truth. I let too many lies go by in my life. From the mouths of the world and my own lips.

"Having put on the breastplate of righteousness"

The breastplate literally covers your heart. All the vital organs that you cannot function without. Do I have righteousness, and do I use it to cover what is most vital to my survival? Well, I know I can always build righteousness. That genuine holiness, moving more and more toward becoming an accurate image of God. The Christian life is called a struggle for a reason. It ain't easy, friends! It's a down in the muck, clawing and fighting struggle. It's exhausting and glorious in the same moment. It's a battle against myself. A tough and suitable opponent. I need that breastplate. I need to focus on covering my heart, my vital being with righteousness. A show of fake piety won't cut it. That's just flimsy cardboard that any arrow can get through. I need the real deal. Which means I have to be the real deal. I have to struggle more and not run when the going gets tough. There's too many convenient excuses in my life.

"Having shod your feet with the preparation of the gospel of peace"

Where do I walk? The road of peace or the road of contention? Am I a representative of the gospel of peace in my home? No. I'm not. I start conflicts with my family. Sure, the kids might have done something absolutely infuriating, but who actually picked the fight? My three year old has a long list of habits that make the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. But am I teaching her the gospel of peace? Do I respond to her in loving teaching and direction like the words of Christ or in short, frustrated, loveless tones? When my husband asks me to do something, do I jump to do it with selfless, peaceful love, or do I respond with selfishness and disapproval? Do I accept everyone around me with an open love and peaceful welcoming, or do I judge them for everything from their lifestyle choices to their appearance? Do I walk in peace? Are my feet surrounded, shod with peace? There is not enough peace in my life---and it's my fault.

"Taking the shield of faith."

How much do I really believe? How deep is my faith---really? If my faith could be turned into a literal shield that I had to hold up against literal darts, would I stand a chance? I believe there is a God. I believe in the Incarnation. I believe in the Resurrection. I believe in the Holy Spirit. But do I believe, do I have faith in everything He says? Do I really have faith that can move mountains? That can walk on water? That's as big as mustard seed? I don't. I trust God with the things I think he can handle. But there's some things, I'd rather keep to myself. I guess I don't think he's big enough. I guess I don't think he cares enough. I guess I just don't have enough faith. There's a difference between believing and trusting. I believe God. But I don't always turn everything---all my sorrows, all my pain, all my worries---over to him. I take up and put down my shield when it's convenient. When I think I can just handle this one by myself. I need more faith. I believe---forgive my unbelief!

"The sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God."

I have this one covered, right? I'm a Bible fan. I've read and re-read the Word. Memorized it. Dog-eared it. Not a problem. But reading isn't enough. You actually have to apply the words to your life. Do I let the Spirit of God fill me from fingertip to toe and travel before me like a flashing, razor sharp sword? No, I don't. I miss far too many opportunities to actually fight spiritual battles. Going gets tough...and I'm gone. Down the street, around the corner, out of the country kind of gone. I choose my battles, rather than letting myself be chosen. I know good and well exactly which things I need to wage against at this moment. I know them with every inch of my being. But I won't fight them all. I make the choice. My sword is far too often by my side, just waiting. Unused. I admit defeat before I ever fight. I have to fight if I'm going to let God win.

"Taking the helmet of salvation."

I saved this one until the end. I've talked a lot about covering the rest of my body. I leave the head for last. Sure, all Christians have a helmet, but mine's a bit different. All the rest of my armor is figurative. I don't walk around with a literal shield or a literal sword. But I walk around with a literal helmet. My headcovering. And is that helmet my salvation? Does it save me? Well, no "thing" in itself does that. But am I using my headcovering as a means of my salvation? Am I letting it change me? Not the fabric, but everything it represents. Am I letting it humble me---in the gentle humility of the Theotokos? Am I letting it make me more obedient---to God and to my family? Am I letting it make me meek---not weak, but the meekness that inherits the Earth? Am I letting it make me more modest---not just in flesh, but in spirit? Am I letting it suck out and spit out the evil and darkness in my soul to bring me on the path to working out my salvation? No, I'm not. I put on my headcovering each day in different ways. Sometimes I grasp the depth and the beauty of this gift that God has shown me. This powerful weapon on my journey toward Him. Far too often, though, I put it on out of habit. Just another garment to cover things up, rather than to bring them to light. Far too often, I don't pay attention to the fiery darts around me. I don't even notice the wicked one. I'm too farsighted. I keep looking for him out there in others, when all along, he's right here in me. I am not humble. I am not meek. I am not modest. Not enough. I'm just not doing enough.

I have some weak spots in my armor. Some of it, I haven't even taken up. I need to to reinforce it, to polish it, to attend to it with the depth of attention and intention that I give to so much uselessness in my life. I have to, because I want to quit hiding, running, and avoiding. I want to face my spiritual battles head on. I want to put on my armor and stand. This is like no ordinary armor. It's not heavy and constricting and limiting. It's a light and easy weight, because I never have to carry it alone.