The Bible is very clear that, as believers, we are in a war. The Apostle Paul, at the end of his earthly life, said, I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. (Second Timothy 4:7). What was he fighting? Ephesians 6:12 tells us: 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. This tells us that we are struggling against Satan and his demons...not people. This "struggle" indicates that there is a war going on. We are also told in Second Corinthians 10:3-5: For though we walk in the flesh, we do not war according to the flesh, for the weapons of our warfare are not of the flesh, but divinely powerful for the destruction of fortresses. We are destroying speculations and every lofty thing raised up against the knowledge of God, and we are taking every thought captive to the obedience of Christ, Sounds pretty heavy, doesn't it? As Christians, we are at war for the heart and soul of others. We are at war against Satan, and the evil system of this world. We're on a mission for the Lord, to bring God glory, and bring people to Christ. Satan doesn't want that, and will fight us. Whether we want to be or not, we are in a war, and our participation in this begins the moment we come to Christ.
Satan wants nothing more than to steal, kill and destroy (John 10:10). Once we are saved, Satan can't control our eternal destiny, but he will do everything in his power to ruin our effectiveness for Christ.
As Christians fighting in this battle, we sometimes get battle wounds. Sometimes it's easy to forget who we're really fighting, because we can't see Satan, but we can see the problems he creates. He uses people, and it's easy to see them as the enemy. If we, instead, saw them as a pawn of the enemy, perhaps we'd feel more compassionate toward our perceived enemies. At times, maybe we're even used by the enemy. Let that sink in.
What do these battle wounds look like in our lives? What effects do they have? Is still having them a sign that we're not trusting or obeying God enough? Will they ever go away this side of eternity?
These wounds are different in different people, because we fight different battles in this overall war in which we are all engaged. I'll tell you what one of my battle wounds look like, to give you an idea.
When I was eighteen years old, I went on a mission trip to Africa. I was so excited to go out and serve the Lord. I imagined making an impact for eternity, and making lifelong friendships in the process. In the back of my mind, if I was totally honest, I hoped I would meet my future husband on this trip. I mean, what a great way to meet a godly man, serving the Lord like that. This wasn't my main motive for going on the trip, but it was in my mind, and I imagine a lot of young people who step out like that have the same thought. Spoiler alert, I did not meet my husband on this trip, but instead met him at a birthday party some time later. But as for that summer I was eighteen...I was a joyful young woman. My church was behind me. I was a heroine at youth group. I expected to spend all summer on cloud nine. What I experienced instead left me deeply hurt and disappointed, longing for more of something I couldn't define. I experienced treachery, betrayal, and sexual harassment...from fellow missionaries. Long story, but there was also a lot of aftermath to that summer, lasting an additional two years. I do have a few people from that trip that I am still friends with (on Facebook, not really close regular contact), but mostly, I left that experience totally broken and battered. I had to pretend it was wonderful when I talked to my church family about it, because I didn't want to disappoint them after all their love and support. And there were good parts of it. Children came to know Christ that summer, and I had grown in the Lord tremendously (as He was the only one I could talk to--we had no access to family in the US. This was before cell phones or social media. The Internet wasn't commonly used then, even in America, and definitely not in Africa. There was no telephone where we were, and even if there had been, it would have cost a fortune to call home). I eventually had to get counseling to overcome the bitterness from that summer, and I have overcome. I have chosen to forgive those who have wounded me. But does this mean I'm totally whole, as I would have been without these experiences?
No. I am not the same. That summer forever altered my life, as all experiences really do. I have scars. Some of the worst part of the experience happened at our training time in a certain Midwestern state, and I have a hard time entering this particular state without crying. I fight it, but it's hard. It isn't this state's fault. It is a beautiful state with wonderful people. I just can't go into that state without feeling unsafe and vulnerable. Suddenly, I'm eighteen again, and feeling that my heart is considered disposable and unimportant, and people can treat me however they want, and if I try to stand up to them, I'm "judging". No one is on my side. Maybe one day, I'll feel differently. I hope I do. I also struggle with these feelings when I go to an airport for any reason, because airports and flying were a big part of that summer. The association is too strong. I try to avoid flying if I can, although I will fly if necessary. I can do it, but those feelings come on me. I truly hope I can one day go to an airport without feeling this way. Without tasting bile in my mouth. Without hearing the lies in my mind that I am unsafe and unloved. Without feeling crazy inside. Maybe one day, these scars will disappear. Maybe they won't. Does my struggling with these feelings mean I haven't forgiven people, or that I'm harboring bitterness?
I don't believe it means that at all. I have gone through a process (and a lot of Christian counseling) to forgive people. Not only those people from that hurtful summer, but other parts of my life. I don't wish ill will on any of them. I want God's very best for all of them. I want them to be right with the Lord, and of course, that would mean they would need to repent of their sins against me (and all other sins). Their treatment of me that summer is likely a symptom of much deeper trouble in their lives, and I'd love it if God worked in them and brought them to that right place, for their own good and joy. I expect nothing from them--ever. I know it is very, very unlikely any of them will ever try to reach out to me and make things right. That's okay. That's on them, and between them and God. I can move on happily in my life. What they did doesn't affect my every waking moment (there was a time when it did). But there are times those wounds still hurt. There are moments I need validation from the Lord that I'm okay. God understands this. He knows where I'm at. I love the hymn, What a Friend We Have in Jesus. I love the line, "Jesus knows our every weakness, take it to the Lord in prayer." He understands the broken pieces in our hearts. He knows our limits. So far, God has not called me to live in the state where our training was, but if He ever does, He will sustain me and enable me. He has slowly and gently worked, calling me out of my comfort zone in these things, and I have experienced so much victory. But there are still hard moments. Is that wrong?
The Apostle Paul wrote in Philippians 3:12: Not as though I had already attained, either were already perfect: but I follow after, if that I may apprehend that for which also I am apprehended of Christ Jesus. Paul wasn't where he knew he should be. But he moved forward. That's all I can do. It's all you can do. Something even more foundational in this is that Jesus Himself still carries the scars he received while being nailed to the cross. Those are the Ultimate Battle Wounds. If He can carry those scars, we can too. It isn't sinful. We can forgive those who gave them to us, but we can still have them without being down on ourselves.
One of my favorite songs is by Twila Paris. This song is entitled The Warrior is a Child. The chorus contains the line, "They don't know that I go running home when I fall down. They don't know who picks me up when no one is around. I drop my sword and cry for just a while. 'Cause deep inside this armor, the warrior is a child." That's how I feel sometimes. I have been in ministry all of my adult life, and most of my teen years as well. Some see me as a spiritual victor. But they don't know that underneath my armor, I'm a child. Vulnerable. Struggling. In need of nurture. You're that way too.
How should we treat these wounds? We certainly shouldn't indulge them. God will call us out of our comfort zone at times, and we need to obey Him. As we do, He will bring healing and growth. But we should also recognize our own struggles and weaknesses. We shouldn't force ourselves to do things we aren't ready for (unless God has called us to, which means we are ready, with His help). We should dedicate these scars to the Lord, letting Him use them in our lives and the lives of others. We should share our story, because that's one way God can use it...and it can also be a step of healing for us. There was a time I would never have shared what I have in this post. It was a point I had to come to. We should also recognize the good that has come into our lives as a result of these battle wounds. I know I am a much more discerning person as a result of my experiences. As I have worked in ministry situations, I want to believe my discernment in this area has helped weed out people who have no business serving and would only harm others. I believe I am a more
compassionate listener as well. What good things have come into your life through your wounds?
These wounds flare up at times. What can we do? I remind myself of the truth. Psalm 56:8 reminds us: You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book. Our hurts hurt God! He cares about every pain in our lives. He keeps track of them. Long before Disney princess Elsa popularized the phrase Let it Go, I was constantly told this by well-meaning people as I tried to heal. This is certainly not how God treats us. He isn't so dismissive of our pain. He is our healer. Isaiah 53:4 tells us that Jesus took up our pain and bore our sorrows. In the very next verse, we are told that by His wounds, we are healed. We can have victory over our wounds. In fact, we do have victory, because He does! One verse I really love is found in Revelation 22:2, which tells us of a tree that will be on the new earth God will one day create. This verse tells us its leaves will bring healing to the nations. I imagine myself picking a leaf off that tree and holding it to my heart, letting it absorb all the battle wounds in my spirit. Then, and only then, will I be totally restored...but it will happen. Right now, I contend in this cursed world. But because of Jesus, the battle's already been won, and the victory is ours!
Satan wants nothing more than to steal, kill and destroy (John 10:10). Once we are saved, Satan can't control our eternal destiny, but he will do everything in his power to ruin our effectiveness for Christ.
As Christians fighting in this battle, we sometimes get battle wounds. Sometimes it's easy to forget who we're really fighting, because we can't see Satan, but we can see the problems he creates. He uses people, and it's easy to see them as the enemy. If we, instead, saw them as a pawn of the enemy, perhaps we'd feel more compassionate toward our perceived enemies. At times, maybe we're even used by the enemy. Let that sink in.
What do these battle wounds look like in our lives? What effects do they have? Is still having them a sign that we're not trusting or obeying God enough? Will they ever go away this side of eternity?
These wounds are different in different people, because we fight different battles in this overall war in which we are all engaged. I'll tell you what one of my battle wounds look like, to give you an idea.
When I was eighteen years old, I went on a mission trip to Africa. I was so excited to go out and serve the Lord. I imagined making an impact for eternity, and making lifelong friendships in the process. In the back of my mind, if I was totally honest, I hoped I would meet my future husband on this trip. I mean, what a great way to meet a godly man, serving the Lord like that. This wasn't my main motive for going on the trip, but it was in my mind, and I imagine a lot of young people who step out like that have the same thought. Spoiler alert, I did not meet my husband on this trip, but instead met him at a birthday party some time later. But as for that summer I was eighteen...I was a joyful young woman. My church was behind me. I was a heroine at youth group. I expected to spend all summer on cloud nine. What I experienced instead left me deeply hurt and disappointed, longing for more of something I couldn't define. I experienced treachery, betrayal, and sexual harassment...from fellow missionaries. Long story, but there was also a lot of aftermath to that summer, lasting an additional two years. I do have a few people from that trip that I am still friends with (on Facebook, not really close regular contact), but mostly, I left that experience totally broken and battered. I had to pretend it was wonderful when I talked to my church family about it, because I didn't want to disappoint them after all their love and support. And there were good parts of it. Children came to know Christ that summer, and I had grown in the Lord tremendously (as He was the only one I could talk to--we had no access to family in the US. This was before cell phones or social media. The Internet wasn't commonly used then, even in America, and definitely not in Africa. There was no telephone where we were, and even if there had been, it would have cost a fortune to call home). I eventually had to get counseling to overcome the bitterness from that summer, and I have overcome. I have chosen to forgive those who have wounded me. But does this mean I'm totally whole, as I would have been without these experiences?
 |
| One of few pictures I kept from that summer. I'm the tall one with short, curly, auburn hair, in the middle. I had cut off my hair because I had doubted I'd have much opportunity to deal with it that summer...I was right. I let it grown back after the summer. This actual photo wasn't take in Africa, but in a Bible club we taught during our training in the US before flying out. This picture does not show everyone associated with the trip or experience. |
No. I am not the same. That summer forever altered my life, as all experiences really do. I have scars. Some of the worst part of the experience happened at our training time in a certain Midwestern state, and I have a hard time entering this particular state without crying. I fight it, but it's hard. It isn't this state's fault. It is a beautiful state with wonderful people. I just can't go into that state without feeling unsafe and vulnerable. Suddenly, I'm eighteen again, and feeling that my heart is considered disposable and unimportant, and people can treat me however they want, and if I try to stand up to them, I'm "judging". No one is on my side. Maybe one day, I'll feel differently. I hope I do. I also struggle with these feelings when I go to an airport for any reason, because airports and flying were a big part of that summer. The association is too strong. I try to avoid flying if I can, although I will fly if necessary. I can do it, but those feelings come on me. I truly hope I can one day go to an airport without feeling this way. Without tasting bile in my mouth. Without hearing the lies in my mind that I am unsafe and unloved. Without feeling crazy inside. Maybe one day, these scars will disappear. Maybe they won't. Does my struggling with these feelings mean I haven't forgiven people, or that I'm harboring bitterness?
I don't believe it means that at all. I have gone through a process (and a lot of Christian counseling) to forgive people. Not only those people from that hurtful summer, but other parts of my life. I don't wish ill will on any of them. I want God's very best for all of them. I want them to be right with the Lord, and of course, that would mean they would need to repent of their sins against me (and all other sins). Their treatment of me that summer is likely a symptom of much deeper trouble in their lives, and I'd love it if God worked in them and brought them to that right place, for their own good and joy. I expect nothing from them--ever. I know it is very, very unlikely any of them will ever try to reach out to me and make things right. That's okay. That's on them, and between them and God. I can move on happily in my life. What they did doesn't affect my every waking moment (there was a time when it did). But there are times those wounds still hurt. There are moments I need validation from the Lord that I'm okay. God understands this. He knows where I'm at. I love the hymn, What a Friend We Have in Jesus. I love the line, "Jesus knows our every weakness, take it to the Lord in prayer." He understands the broken pieces in our hearts. He knows our limits. So far, God has not called me to live in the state where our training was, but if He ever does, He will sustain me and enable me. He has slowly and gently worked, calling me out of my comfort zone in these things, and I have experienced so much victory. But there are still hard moments. Is that wrong?
The Apostle Paul wrote in Philippians 3:12: Not as though I had already attained, either were already perfect: but I follow after, if that I may apprehend that for which also I am apprehended of Christ Jesus. Paul wasn't where he knew he should be. But he moved forward. That's all I can do. It's all you can do. Something even more foundational in this is that Jesus Himself still carries the scars he received while being nailed to the cross. Those are the Ultimate Battle Wounds. If He can carry those scars, we can too. It isn't sinful. We can forgive those who gave them to us, but we can still have them without being down on ourselves.
One of my favorite songs is by Twila Paris. This song is entitled The Warrior is a Child. The chorus contains the line, "They don't know that I go running home when I fall down. They don't know who picks me up when no one is around. I drop my sword and cry for just a while. 'Cause deep inside this armor, the warrior is a child." That's how I feel sometimes. I have been in ministry all of my adult life, and most of my teen years as well. Some see me as a spiritual victor. But they don't know that underneath my armor, I'm a child. Vulnerable. Struggling. In need of nurture. You're that way too.
How should we treat these wounds? We certainly shouldn't indulge them. God will call us out of our comfort zone at times, and we need to obey Him. As we do, He will bring healing and growth. But we should also recognize our own struggles and weaknesses. We shouldn't force ourselves to do things we aren't ready for (unless God has called us to, which means we are ready, with His help). We should dedicate these scars to the Lord, letting Him use them in our lives and the lives of others. We should share our story, because that's one way God can use it...and it can also be a step of healing for us. There was a time I would never have shared what I have in this post. It was a point I had to come to. We should also recognize the good that has come into our lives as a result of these battle wounds. I know I am a much more discerning person as a result of my experiences. As I have worked in ministry situations, I want to believe my discernment in this area has helped weed out people who have no business serving and would only harm others. I believe I am a more
compassionate listener as well. What good things have come into your life through your wounds?
These wounds flare up at times. What can we do? I remind myself of the truth. Psalm 56:8 reminds us: You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book. Our hurts hurt God! He cares about every pain in our lives. He keeps track of them. Long before Disney princess Elsa popularized the phrase Let it Go, I was constantly told this by well-meaning people as I tried to heal. This is certainly not how God treats us. He isn't so dismissive of our pain. He is our healer. Isaiah 53:4 tells us that Jesus took up our pain and bore our sorrows. In the very next verse, we are told that by His wounds, we are healed. We can have victory over our wounds. In fact, we do have victory, because He does! One verse I really love is found in Revelation 22:2, which tells us of a tree that will be on the new earth God will one day create. This verse tells us its leaves will bring healing to the nations. I imagine myself picking a leaf off that tree and holding it to my heart, letting it absorb all the battle wounds in my spirit. Then, and only then, will I be totally restored...but it will happen. Right now, I contend in this cursed world. But because of Jesus, the battle's already been won, and the victory is ours!
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