There has been a lot of silence on this blog. Mostly because I suffer on and off with depression.
How's that for breaking the silence?
Sigh.
Life is hard. I have heard it said, "Life is not a playground. It is a battleground."
And it is true. When I take my eyes off of that. That I am fighting for my life. Fighting to follow Christ. When I drive my minivan onto the battlefield into the heat of battle, hit the automatic door button, and yell, "come on kids! Hop out! Let's go swing!" Yes, when I do that. That is when I am knocked down. Taken out. Mortally wounded.
I lie there. Blood gushing. Staring at the sky. All the wind knocked out of me. What was I thinking? Why do I forget this is a battle ground. Why do I walk daily without my armor? Without the Sword of the Spirit, my breastplate of righteousness, my helmet of salvation, my sandles of peace, my belt of truth.
What was I thinking this morning as I ran around getting dressed in these t-shirt and jeans? I obviously didn't forget those things.
Yet they hold absolutely no power.
They don't keep my soul and mind from drowning in depression, yelling at my kids, speaking disrespectfully to my husband, sinning against my Lord. How is it so easy not to pick up the sword?
Because it's a battleground! And everyday my mind dresses for the playground. For sandcastles and slides. Swings and sunshine. The devil enjoys watching me practice this fun routine. Packing my little picnic lunch for the park bench. And I know he throughly enjoys watching me walk out onto that battle field unarmed.
I am posting a picture on my mirror. A picture of the proper way to dress each morning. I obviously need THAT big of a reminder.
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