I can’t make it through one single day, even as a Christian. Even with all the promised glory that awaits me; even with all the promises that have already been met out in my life, I find it nigh impossible to make it through the day. Sometimes just getting through an hour or even the next 5 minutes can be a challenge that leaves me twisted up, and as a friend likes to say, “conflicted”. What is it that I can’t get past, that beckons me to reckless abandonment of all that I know to be true? What is it that leaves me but a hollowed out carcass with nothing but a store front facade?

No, it’s not drugs or the bottle, although I can understand their allure and sickly sweet, siren’s call of escape to something better than what I now have. No, what I try to escape from, entices me in the same manner, and uses the same lies, but it is neither of these – though it could be. It whispers to my vain senses, seducing my shallow desires, until they boil and rage, overpowering my judgment. And once satiated, it leaves my embattled mind torn and shredded. Like Paul I weep that that which I wish to do, now lies whimpering in a corner of my being like a kicked dog, too afraid to come out. For my Christian brothers and sisters who read this, forgive me, even though I have the truth, the falleness of this mortal body pummels my heart and soul, till at times there is nothing left.

With that said, one would think that I write this as a man injured beyond repair, despondent in my future. And I tell you truly, if left to my own devices I would wholly concur and say that I most certainly am. But this morning I am neither. And I say this not on any merit of my own, for I know that left to my own accord I fail miserably. No, I can say that I will not despair from the trials of this world, because I no longer travel through the battlefield alone. Yes, Christ has walked beside me, all these many years, but I lack the faith to always discern his presence. He knows my shortcomings and The Spirit has lead a group of men into my life. These are not mere men, but men that I call my brothers. We may be new to this (use what ever term you wish, squad, crew, force, troop or gang) but the war in which we find ourselves is old, and the battles are familiar to each of us. These are men, who like myself, are wounded and in pain, but together we are leaning against each another, carrying each other, sometimes pushing or dragging each other, but always guarding one another.

For far too long, I tried fighting this war – my battles – on my own. It doesn’t work. The war is not going to end this side of heaven. The battles are pitched day after day, there is no respite. I hate all the military analogies but if they fit… Our King and Commander has called us, our army has been formed, our warriors have been equipped, but He has not ordered us into the battle alone.

Are you in this war by yourself?

Having a few brothers or sisters deeply involved in your life is not some grandiose idea. Neither is it an option. This is self preservation.