At War

It’s easy to forget that I am in a daily battle. I’m at war. And I’m not talking about fighting with my kids over their homework or the dry cleaners over pants that have vanished. I’m talking about real spiritual warfare–the kind that’s kicking me in the butt.

I know a spiritual war is going on because I am praying against stuff that sometimes happens anyway. If I didn’t know better, I’d say that my prayers weren’t working. But I’ve been at the Christian life for awhile, so I know that’s not true. 

I’m just at war. And in a war, nobody wins all the time. War always creates setbacks and casualties on both sides. Everyone emerges with scars. Spiritual warfare is the reason that life is hard.

So this spiritual war between good and evil becomes the reason that I pray, whether I realize it or not. My desire to push in against the enemy, to take back ground I’ve lost through wrong choices, to conquer new territory in my heart and mind–these are the reasons I pray. I know that I can’t win any battle alone. I must pray.

But I must also prepare myself for injury. (That’s the point of armor, right?) I must count on sustaining some injury to myself, and I must certainly expect the quest for goodness to be agonizing. Prayer provides an avenue to fight, but it also provides a conduit for strengthening my resolve. As I lean into the source of power in my life, my faith in that power grows. I fight harder. I take enemy ground. I plant my flag on the hilltop.

And then I start over again. I’m old enough now to recognize that no war is ever really over.