The Fighter

A man goes off to war. This isn't his first time. He was trained to fight. He feels comradery with his fellow soldiers. He fights for himself, for his country, for his family. He suffers. Some days he is scared. Some days he feels powerful. The King calls him back home for a week of vacation time. The man comes home (because if a King tells you to do something, you do it). The King says eat this good food, drink this great wine, go and sleep near the warmth of your wife. But he refuses the comfort of a warm bed, a roof over his head, a beautiful wife to lie next to. Instead he sleeps outside.

Every believer must fight if he wants to maintain the rights to believe. In my life, there have been quite a few of those belief fights that have lasted one or two rounds, maybe three. But a boxing match does not compare to a battle, and one battle doesn't compare to a war. There are levels of fighting, and I think we all must pass through each type at one point or another.

The hardest battle any believer must face is one in which his words, his so-called beliefs line up with his actions. In the Christian lifestyle, there are some actions that may seem very easy to match up. But in the right environment, with the right amount of peer pressure or loneliness, what used to be a definitive black and white issue transforms into a battle one is unconsciously fighting. When the shit hits the fan, unconciousness disappears and he must then decide if he will continue to act in a manner that does not match his beliefs, or turn around and do as the biblia says and repent. I always wanted to be remembered as someone who stood up for what she believes in. But this believing gig isn't getting any easier. If it was, though, it'd probably be a sign of a warm bed when where I should be sleeping involves a trench and a sleeping bag.