So I was cooking yesterday, as my mouth throbbed from this root canal, thinking about the pork chop I couldn’t tackle without pain (you know I ate it though). Somehow I got on the whole trial and tribulation topic in my head. I envisioned a school yard fight, a boxing match, a karate competition, all kinds of fight scenarios–right? So I was thinking when Satan is kicking my butt, it’s like a dirty bully using underhanded tactics and sneaking me, not fighting fair at all, because his goal is to defeat me, mutilate me, leave me without the option of walking away.
I picture Jehovah as a best friend who chooses not to jump in it and fight for me because everyone looking needs to know I can do this, and I need to know just as well. But that’s not to say I can’t get an assist. I can go to my corner and get refreshed at the sound of the bell, hear reassuring words when I need them, get tools passed to me when the enemy is deceiving, and my coach is constantly in my head. I can hear and remember guidance from all the training I’ve had, and I can even get hints in advance to say what I might get hit with. “Duck girl! On your left! Matrix!”
I’m not alone. I know this. The fight is mine, and I can win. The best part is even if I don’t win this one, I can go again with another chance, new information, better confidence, and whatever else I need, and I have a shot at emerging victorious. The sucky part is I won’t get advance notice of the next fight, and I may get blindsided by a blow I’m unfamiliar with. Right. Ain’t no invitations to this fight. That’s why I need to stay ready, keep training, prepare. On any seemingly beautiful day or gloomy dark night, I may have to fight for my life against an enemy who wants me dead. Lax is not the way to be.
But my original point was about pain and thresholds and how much we can stand. This procedure I had was kind of awful, the surgery before it was excruciating, the gallbladder surgery made me weak before and confused after, and that last baby damn near killed us both. Then let’s not even talk about the many substantial losses death has inflicted in my lifetime, or divorce. But I realize that even though I would never have expected to experience any of it, I survived all of it. The worst pain I’ve ever felt may not be the worst I’ll ever feel, but because I survived more than I thought I could or would, I’m not paralyzed by fear. Whatever form the enemy takes in my life, I’ve been trained, assisted, held together, and I walk in faith, knowing I’m not alone and it is all preparation for something.
Don’t hate your struggle or wish away your trials. Never throw away a tool meant to aid you along your journey either. Absorb everything and use it when the next battle presents itself. You are not alone. You can win this. Whomever it was interrupting my sleep last night with this, I hope this word helps. I was having a bomb dream, and I was winning too…
From the Mind of:
Tonya D. Floyd
Have you been counted?
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