So each day as I drove to school, I committed the day to the Lord, praying over my precious class, the teachable moments, the ability to speak truth and love into some lives completely devoid of such things.
I rehearsed and rehashed scripture, prayed through gorgeous sunrises and praised through the winding roads of cornfields, cow pastures, and strong smell-blasts of manure.
Armed with the belt of Truth, debunking lies became easier. Not easy, but lies stuck in my head a little less, and Truth seemed more at the tip of my tongue... More at the front of my mind, to slide into a moment of panic and bring peace.
With truth fastened around me, the breastplate of righteousness was strengthened. It was easier to tell right from wrong; guarding against compromising situations before they happened.
My feet ready with the gospel of peace... To share the gospel, to bring peace to those who struggle. I have never lived a year more on mission, more centered, or more focused.
The shield of faith, reminding me consistently of who I am and Whose I am, putting out the flaming arrows of doubt the enemy would send against me.
The helmet of salvation, protecting me and my thoughts, the sword of the Spirit, the Word of God, always at my side, ready to fill my mind with Truth, reminding me of the things that I need to know as I head into the battle of every day.
School has been out for less than a week. Yet it feels like it's been months.
The battle is over, and I undress, stepping out of my uniform. After all, it's summer and I'm off-duty. I'm with family, not with needy children, their parents, or the daily dose of negativity that comes with the teaching profession.
And as I believe this lie, I have already unbuckled the belt of Truth. I am slipping it off with this very thought. Because it doesn't matter where I am in the world, who I am with, or what I am doing. As long as I am a follower of Christ, I am in a battle.
When the belt of Truth is unbuckled and falls at my ankles, I feel relieved. Sometimes Truth feels so constricting. But. The lies that never even phased me before, suddenly slow me down and cause my mind to race. They derail me. They make me feel useless and incompetent.
Once the belt of Truth comes off, the breastplate of righteousness peels away pretty easily, too. It's heavy and uncomfortable, limiting, really. If truth is removed, then so are the standards of righteousness. I can give a little, let a little attitude out without having anything to set me back on course and show me where I am wrong.
I kick off my shoes too... After all, I'm coming back inside after being out and about for so long. I close my checkbook, close my heart, and forget that every moment could be an opportunity to share the gospel of peace. I am unprepared. After spending a year searching for opportunities and living on mission, I'm tired, and just want to get comfy.
I've laid down my shield of faith, doubting who I am in Christ, taking the enemey's arrows left and right. I don't even realize I'm burning with doubt, discontentment, and perhaps even jealousy... Of people who have things I wish I had, and wishing I was elsewhere in the walk of life.
My helmet of salvation... Well I guess I'll keep that on, but I haven't been protecting -- guarding -- my thoughts. I let them race, rehash the past, and devour me even when I close my eyes to catch some rest.
Oh. And the sword of the Spirit? The Word of God? I'm too busy, too tired, too drained for that now. Don't feel like picking it up and finding out all that is not up to par. I'll snooze through a quick chapter of Genesis, so I learn next to nothing and don't even care to go back.
And then somehow I'm surprised when, as an off-duty soldier, I'm caught off guard, attacked, and wounded. I call foul and "unfair," but it's not. Because in all reality, the war is still raging, I just decided to take my vacation in the middle of the battlefield... I've spread a blanket, and decided to catch some zzzs, hoping that maybe the battle won't reach me.... That as long as I'm out, no one will hit me.
But anyone in a summer water fight, or winter snowball fight, or even a real war may know... It doesn't matter what you're doing when the war is raging around you. If you're on the battlefield, you're fair game. It doesn't matter that the blast of ice cold water reached you as you were sunbathing and reading a delicious book. You're wet. You're down. You might as well join the fight.
So I'd rather be prepared than be caught off guard again. It may be summer, I may not be at school all day, and I may not be pouring into twenty-some little needy lives right now. But that just means the battle looks different. It's still going on.
Time to get dressed and get back in the fight!
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