When sitting’s the best way to fight
Morning has come. Rising, I head for the kitchen. With one, quick push of the button, hot, fresh coffee (that nectar of the gods) spurts, steaming, into my favorite mug.
It’s been a tough couple of days.
Slinging my backpack over a shoulder, I step outside, coffee in hand, and I head for my happy place. Settling in, a flowery pillow at my back, I look out across The Three. For two days, the clouds have prevailed. For two days, the sun’s been hidden. And for two days, the battle has raged.
Wordless, I drink it in. The sun has come at last. As I watch, it rises, rises, ever rises, pushing back the fog that’s come in the night. Just like the heart-fog, mind-fog, soul-fog that’s come in the night for me.
The coffee’s gone, and I take to the road, the place where I figure things out. Where He speaks and I listen. Where I speak and He listens. The place where I find consolation.
And it comes. “As I sit down, God rises to fight.”
I’m thinking and running and listening and seeing. Seeing battles with weapons raised high. And a Dad.
“As you sit down and rest, I will rise up and fight. That’s all that I want you to do. Sit and rest.”
Sitting and resting, weapons laid down. Perhaps this is faith, just to rest?
If you’re weary in battle, your strength spent and faded, your courage leaking out ‘cross the ground, come and rest. Surrender your weapons, whatever they are. And sit.
When faith says, “I can’t, but I know that He can,” and sits down, that’s when He will step in. And rise up.
Maybe this is how faith looks today–sitting down. Letting go. Letting Him.
Yes, you can. Yes, He will. Wait and see.
As I’m nearing home, the sun’s shining glorious. Fog’s gone. So’s the night, for sun’s risen. Risen, indeed.