Battlefields

 

Pictures in this post are "fields", maybe battlefields, maybe not.

                                

There was one thing on furlough that surprised me and concerned me…..

   I wasn’t ready to come back to Ghana for a very long time.

                               

 I had no desire even to see friends there again. No wishing for my own bed, cooking in my kitchen, or walking down dusty trails. The last week our minds started making the shift back to Ghana but there wasn’t the excitement and joy. It was more like knowing we need to go back. And that bothered me. 

                           

  I prayed while we packed. Prayed while we drove to the airport, as we left US soil, and many times through the hours of flying. I wrote a paragraph as we flew:

  I wish I could understand the feeling. The good byes weren't extra hard. Leaving wasn't extra hard. But going back is. The usual excitement isn't there. The normal- can't wait to see people- isn't there. It’s just nothing. I'm ready to cook in my kitchen. To stay at home all day. To live normal life. But I'm not ready for the responsibility. I'm not ready for something. But I can't put my finger on it. It’s like trying to see a dream that just isn't clear. What does God have in store for us? Is it hard? It feels like He is asking me to trust in a new way. To open my hands wide to change and turmoil. To embrace the different and the new. The beautiful and the hard.

  And so I will close my eyes. I will bow my head in surrender. Even if the year to come is harder than the years that have gone; I WILL TRUST GOD.

                           

  Sometime in the endless miles of flying, a clear thought came to my mind. “He is a killer and a thief.” And that scared me. Was it my sleep deprived brain messing with me? Was it part of a dream that I couldn’t remember? I thought about it as we drove home from the airport. For some reason that phrase wouldn’t go away.

                           

  Last night I looked forward to sweet rest. But I forgot the tricks of jet lag and time change. Tired children couldn’t sleep. My body was exhausted but my brain was sure it wasn’t bed time. Kenny went to sleep but then woke up and was wide awake like he had taken a nap after supper. It was late till everyone slept.

  But sometime early this morning, I was once again wondering at this feeling of heaviness. We were happy to be greeted by neighbors and friends and fellow missionaries. It was so good to be back in our own house, our own bed. To drive the dusty roads, wave at friends and neighbors, see how the trees and plants grew while we were gone. But there is still this heaviness.

                             

   And then I had this clear thought. This is our battle field. That phrase; He is a killer and a thief. That is our enemy. Ghana is where we fight Satan. For our own souls, for the souls of others. Maybe that is graphic and dramatic but it is what came to my mind this morning. The heaviness we feel is the putting on of our armor. The lightness we felt in the US was God’s gift of a furlough from our battle field. A time of rest and recuperation. But we weren’t meant to stay there. We were meant for work and for battle. This feeling isn’t dread or dislike. It is responsibility. It is the burden of lost souls. And so I don’t need to sit in fear and trembling. It is ok to take time to put on the armor. To prepare ourselves. And then it is time to look around and find a place to step in beside someone and help them fight their battle. To look at our own hearts and fight new battles. To lift our heads and proclaim that Christ is King and Satan will not win!

                        

  What about you? Where is your battle? Where do you step on enemy territory and say NO, Satan! You aren’t winning this battle without a fight! This soul isn’t yours!

  Is it in your work in your church? Is it in your own home with your children? Is it in your school? Your job? Your very own heart?

                         

  I am also wondering, where is your resting place? Where do you step away from the heat of the battle and take a moment to just be refreshed? I especially think of people in church leadership and ministry. Do they ever get that chance? And do they ever feel the weight of putting back on the responsibility and stepping back in to the fight? Or do they press on without a break, fighting every day for our souls? For the life of the Church? I recognize that we have an incredible privilege to be able to take a month long furlough that many people don't have. We are encouraged and cared for in a way that many weary soldiers don't have. We take time to regroup, to think through our strategies and mission in life. I hope that even if you don't take a whole month to do that, you do take moments, weekends, maybe a week to think intentionally about life and to rest.

                             

  And then I have another question. Is every person in battle? Is it possible to just drift along through life and not fight battles? I don’t think so. Maybe you say, I can’t do anything great. I am too injured, too hurt, too alone, I am just an elderly woman, I am just an invalid, I am just a busy farm wife, I am just a single woman, I am too shy, too young, too backwards. There are many examples of men and women who did great things for God in very little ways. I know a woman that can’t do much physical fighting anymore but the hours she spends in prayer are something the rest of us couldn’t do without. I know a woman who doesn’t step out and lead the charge, but the hours she spends supporting her husband benefit the rest of us in so many ways. I know a quiet woman who often blends into the background but she has a gift for listening and mentoring others. I know a woman who serves and gives even when she is tired from battles no one else sees. There is a place for each one of us in the fight against Satan.

                                   

  At a church service in the US, we sang the song ‘We‘ll Work Till Jesus Comes’. I don’t know why it hit me like it did but I ended up singing with tears in my eyes. No tranquil joys on earth I know, No peaceful sheltering dome. This world’s a wilderness of woe. This world is not my home. We’ll work till Jesus comes, then we’ll be gathered home. That is the encouragement I want to hang on to and leave with you. Let’s work, pray, fight till Jesus comes and then we can all go Home.