The last year and a half have been hard, brutal even. That’s not a news flash. We’ve all been affected in some way. We’ve all been changed in some way.
Last weekend I felt challenged to find my fight again. To fight for me again. And this week I’ve been mulling that over in my brain to figure out what it means. I still don’t completely know.
I know this past season I have had no capacity to fight anything but an evil virus. I have had no bandwidth to fight for myself or anyone else. I’ve just tried to keep surviving in a world that seems to get more and more cruel with each passing moment.
This weekend I’ve spent time at a retreat where I questioned my legitimacy to even be there prior to. Like there was a list somehow my name got snuck on and eventually they would discover that I was invited by mistake. (The enemy likes to sell me the line that I am unworthy, and I buy it from him. I’m probably one of his best customers that buy that.)
But I’m so glad I went. I’m so glad for the opportunity to be inspired and challenged, to spend time with a faith community who have such varied experiences and contributions. People who are flawed just like me, but people who God uses anyway.
And from there I went straight to a meeting with my people. Oh how I’ve missed them in this pandemic mess! These are the people that have always fought for me when I don’t know how to fight for myself anymore. These are the people that love big and hold me up. These are the people who challenge me and grow me.
My biggest fight is the battle between my own ears, the lies I’ve bought from the enemy. The depression that I’ve succumbed to over and over. The striving, the overachieving, the ridiculousness that I purchase as truth, for full price nonetheless.
But the grace of God! If ever I’ve doubted the goodness of God (and I have over and over), today I’m reminded of his kindness to me by giving me these people. The ones who will speak truth over me, on repeat until I am able to accept it. The ones who will believe truth for me, over and over, until I am able to believe it. His kindness is all the people who speak truth and I’m able to say, “I need you to keep believing that for me until I can do it myself” and they do.
So many blessings of people in all areas of my life…I can look and say this here. God, I see you. And this is where I put one foot in front of the other. This is where I continue to battle my giants, even if they get back up again. These people keep fighting for me and with me, a picture of a loving Father who does the same and more.
My big sticking point this week is I don’t know how to kill my giants. I know how to fight them. I do it all the time. But I don’t know how to make them die so they don’t get up and come back.
But maybe that’s the point. I don’t. I can’t. They aren’t meant to die completely on this side of heaven. But I’m meant to keep fighting so that at every pivot point I can build a marker of where I have seen His grace and mercy.
“I’ll build an altar of this rubble that you found me in…and every stone will sing of what you can redeem” (point of grace)