LIVING ON THE FRONT LINES

This year was the most unusual Remembrance Day I have ever witnessed. It was, to my recollection, the first time our family did not attend an official Remembrance Day ceremony together. Instead, I took our youngest child to church, were we observed the traditional moment of silence; the remainder of the family each observed the day independently.

I spent some time today thinking about how to present the subject of war to my 7-yr-old. He knows there were soldiers who died, but he has yet to see any videos or historical literature of the subject. Although I could easily turn on the TV and choose an appropriate show to share with him, I wondered if it would just seem like a movie to him. That's not how wars are fought today; it looks like a movie scene to our youngest generation.

So what do you say when your child asks if they will ever have to go to war? I have to be honest - my mind reels at the thought of my children ever being near an actual war zone. Yet, more importantly, we fight a war every day which we rarely talk about. It is a battle for our souls, our minds, our joy, and all things good and precious; we live on the front lines of a spiritual warfare every. single. day.

In any war, the first thing you must know is: Who is my enemy, and who is my ally? It is not so different in the war for our mind and soul. Besides Satan himself, I consider anyone an enemy who tries to sabotage my joy, my confidence, or my family. Allies are people who cheer for us, even when others would believe the worst of us. If you are unsure whether someone is for you, odds are very good they're not; true allies are vocal - not unlike parents on the sidelines of sporting events.

The next important thing to know in war is: What is my mission? I imagine in wars past the soldiers often questioned, "Why this hill?" Lives were lost claiming small pieces of land at a time; aren't we still like that today? We will risk a relationship to claim the small hill of being right. We will sacrifice our contentment for the prize of keeping up with our neighbor. Be careful which hills you choose to battle for; always consider the cost versus the reward.

If I were in a physical war, I would want to know what my weapons are. It is no different in the war for my well-being, or the war for my eternal life. Key weapons I have identified thus far are the promises of God, the power of prayer, the current of friendship, and the lantern of hope. Any one of these may get us through the day, but the combination is enough to carry us all the way to a victorious finish.

Perhaps the key question we can ask is: What am I fighting for? Our veterans fought for justice and liberty. Many wars today are about power and money. The war that is relevant to each of us, waged on our minds every day, is for eternity. There is no enemy attack where there is no prize to be gained. Rest assured that if you are feeling weary, battle-scarred and wounded, the enemy of your soul is trying to shift your focus to things of today so that you ignore all thoughts of eternity.

Show up to the front lines of your life today! Is your joy being robbed by fear, jealousy or bitterness? "Stand against the devil, and the devil will run from you." (James 4:7 NCV) Are you convinced that you don't have the strength to fight? "...And after you have done everything, to stand. Stand firm then..." Just stand. Your weapons - prayer, promises of God, friendship and hope - will serve you well if you do nothing but stand. Just show up.

Life is a battlefield, but there will be a winning side! I choose today to rebuke anything that would steal my peace. There will be days of loss and hardship, but the big picture says there's a big reward for just standing my ground. I'd love to have you standing beside me.

Please leave a comment below if I can pray for you today. None of us fight alone. That's the one beauty of a war zone.

Hugs,
Vicki

A THANK YOU TO FRIENDS PAST AND PRESENT

 

It is always the hardest seasons that bring forth the most growth in my life. So it has been with mixed emotions recently that I have dug deep and begun to remove the old to make room for the new. This is definitely hardest when it comes to people.

I have always thought friendships should last forever. Every single time I am wrong, I cry like a newborn who is abandoned and starving. It hurts my heart to lose someone who once knew my favorite treats, my hardest days, my moods and my secrets. I do not throw my heart open easily, and I am careful with promises. The end of a friendship feels like failure to me.

With all of that in mind, I feel that I have apologies to make. A recent challenge to purge the old, prepare for the new, and preserve the good has redefined my heart. 

 

 At the end of a growing season, the fruit is harvested from the garden. When there is excess, much of it is preserved, or prepared for storage. If one were to place the fresh food on the counter and simply leave it there, regardless of how much water and sunlight and company it receives, the food would rot. It must be preserved while it is still good and fresh. 

Preserved food still nourishes. In fact, once you have made pickles or jam/jelly and sealed the lid, you can even choose whether the food will nourish your household or someone else's. I am coming to understand that friendship is the same way. 

It is my duty to determine whether a friendship has been given to me for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. Friendships given for a reason typically identify themselves quickly: You know when you encounter someone who meets a need in your life. The difficulty for me has been differentiating between the seasonal and lifetime friendships. 


And so comes my apology. Some of you were meant to be my friends for a season. We were apples  on different branches. We grew side by side for a while, sharing sunny days and weathering rainy ones together. Then our branches grew in different directions. 


Yes, we could still hear the same soundtrack: birds singing sweetly whole children grew and flew our nests, then grandchildren arrived. We were still nourished by the same roots: whether it was childhood memories, a love for God, or our involvement in a group together; the memories bonded us. But we were farther apart now, and nothing could change the fact that we were heading in different directions.

I kept listening to the soundtrack, hoping we could continue dancing in step together. I didn't understand that apples are seasonal fruit; as such, they must fall. Some will wind up in the same pie, having spent all their days together. Others will land in separate baskets, and while they may be aware of each other's fates, it is from a distance. I tried to keep us both attached to the tree, and risked us both rotting there; changing seasons demand to be recognized. 

Like fruit picked in season, our time together has ended. Like apples turned into a jar of jelly, you are in the storage room of my heart. And when days grow cold and my coffee is poured and I sit with the Bread of Life, the jelly of memories made together will nourish us both. It will keep my heart soft, while the prayers I offer with your name whispered will find their way to you as blessings big and small. 

Thank you, my friends for a reason. Whether you met my need or whether I met yours - I am blessed to have been with you. 

Thank you, my friends for a season. I would not be who I am today without our days together. And falling hurts, but it preserves us.

Thank you, my lifetime friends. You are few in number, but rich in grace and love. We have been through every season and you still see value in me. 

If friendship were a garden, I have grown the most beautiful flowers. Keep blooming, my friends.