Fighting the Good Fight by Lindsey Nelson
It’s a fight I’ve been fighting…my whole life. It’s as if it was carved out for me from the beginning of my time and I am just now looking up and recognizing the true enemy. I’ve never been able to truly get up off the ground. He had me pinned down from before my childhood. As a child in the womb, I felt the emotions of my carrier. A woman who struggled herself with the same enemy. The enemy who had the same agenda in mind. To isolate her in the corner and throw as many punches as possible so that she never bothers to get up and make herself open again for the blows. To live in a constant state of self protection and guarding your core. I know this state of being very well. I’ve got the scars. The bruises that were always sensitive and hurting, that the slightest touch would make me go back to my corner. Swollen eyes that caused me to never see anything quite clearly. A tired and hurting body that made me never even want to attempt to try again. I know this way of life well. But this last match he and I were in was the fight of my life. And this time, instead of me backing down or choosing to pick up the same weapons as before, I turned my head away from the enemy as he taunted me to look his way, and I looked to the only person in my corner. He sat there on the other side of me and whispered so gently, “tap me in;” And I did.
As soon as I took His hand, I was no longer in the ring. But sitting on the sidelines. And I watched my Savior become 100 times larger than my enemy. He held my enemy by his neck, and fierce fiery eyes of an angry protector stared my enemy down almost to remind him to never forget this moment. Then I heard a roar of a thousand lions come forth from Him, and in the swiftness of one motion, He took the head off my enemy. My Savior then looked at me, and with eyes of compassion and love, He said, “Please my daughter, do not step back into this ring.” He came down off the platform to my level, and immediately, we were sitting beside a calm river, resting under a larger than life oak tree. My wounds began to heal as He sat with me, telling me just to rest. I began to finally see more clearly than ever before. My enemy was not a face— no single person. It hid behind so many, especially my sisters. He hid behind and used the faces of those that were meant to be the keepers of my heart. As Lisa Bevere says, “I’ve been hurt by men, but I’ve been wounded by women”. My enemy used them, threatened them, made them feel unsafe, and forced to fight. It’s as if we were all in different arenas fighting in the same building. Our enemy ringing the same bell telling us the fight was about to begin again. But now that I see more clearly, I’m angry. I’m angry that I’ve been lied to and abused. I’m angry that this enemy was so ruthless that he began with the mothers. So that their daughter’s would never have a chance. I’m angry. And done. Because I have seen my Savior in action. I’ve not only seen Him take out my enemy, but He has gently nursed me back to health and has thrown my mistakes into a sea of no return. He does not remind me of my mistakes like my enemy. I know the difference between their voices, and He is so kind. So merciful.
He is teaching me now. He is redeeming every year lost and stolen from me and my sisters. He is showing me the details of creating atmospheres of safety. He is showing me the power of my words and how to speak into existence, sisterhood. How to let Him fight every battle with the true enemy and how to keep a posture of resolve. Resolve knowing that He not only has me, but He has my sisters. I’m just now to be the one that champions them in the middle of their journey. One that sits in their corner and reminds them to step out of the ring and look to the one that is waiting to be tapped in. If we all resolved to this position of championing each other, then not one sister would be fighting. We would just be doing what we do so well. Sitting together, popping popcorn, and talking a million miles a minute about this awesome movie of an incredible, strong, savior, that fights for His girl. And wins.
I’ll take that girl’s night any night.