Sunday, June 01, 2008

Fight [or From the Storm, part 3]

The night was still, but I was not. My heart was anything but quiet. Emotions ebbed and flowed inside me. I was having quite the conversation with God as I drove home.

You see, there is something about driving that brings out the deepest parts of me. No music. No distractions. Just the road. It was somewhere around 81st and Sheridan that I pulled up to a stoplight. An SUV was in the lane to my left, and a man’s voice pierced through the darkness.

“Hey baby,” he said.

I shuddered and stared straight ahead. If looks could kill, and I had chosen to look at him, he’d be a goner. I silently willed the light to turn green. As I pulled away, the emotions finally overwhelmed me. Being catcalled was the last straw in a battle I had been fighting inside myself, perhaps for longer than I wanted to admit. I wouldn't have appreciated it in any circumstance, but it pushed me over the edge.

I hit my fist against the steering wheel hard, the horn honking ever so slightly in protest. It all just seemed so wrong. Tears were streaming down my face.

And then, gently and firmly, He spoke to me.

What are you going to fight for, Rachel?

I paused only for a moment.

You and me, God! I'll fight for the right things. Purity, diligence, consistency, holiness. Our relationship. You and me.

And I realized, in that moment, that I had lost my fight somewhere along the road behind me. Or maybe I just lost my will to fight. But it came back, as overwhelmingly as the emotions that swelled inside my chest and the back of my throat. What an epic combination it was…

A few days later, I found myself standing on stage, playing keyboard with the worship band at my church. I was singing along, caught up in the presence of God that invaded into our midst. It was a holy moment.

You are my defender.

We sang it over and over again.

He is a God that will be heard. A God that not only hears us, but knows us. He is a mighty warrior. A God that not only defends us, but teaches us to fight as well. Yet again, the moment was marked with rolling thunder and rain pounding on the sheet metal roof of the church. The storm yielded the kind of wind that snapped trees at the trunk and scattered branches across the streets. But we were kept safe, in God's house...even in the midst of the storm and the flickering lights. If you ask me, I am deeply grateful to be on the winning side of the war.

So tell me…what will you fight for?


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