resistance & strength

We've been talking about and thinking on this idea of standing lately, how standing matters when the only other option is to bow your knee to a false god. Standing is glorious when all the evidence says that to stand up is to invite your own demise, and you stand anyway. I heard a line in a song recently where the singer was asking God for the "strength to stand." Standing requires strength; it demands that we hold ourselves upright even when our strength is assaulted and challenged. It requires that we encounter and engage with those things that resist us.

Standing also means resisting the enemy. We plant our feet firmly, standing strong and erect in the face of his onslaught. He shakes the earth we stand on in an effort to topple us. He brings the elements against us: a strong wind to knock us over, heat to make us faint, or the cold to cause us to fold in on ourselves. He surrounds us with big-mouthed and sharp-clawed creatures who threaten to devour us. He does everything he can to get us to crumble, or to turn coward and run the other way.

Speaking in simple physiological terms, remaining in a standing position requires dynamic balance on part of the stander. There is nothing static about it. In order to stay standing, she has to contend with inner shifts and perturbations (like respiration) and with external ones as well (like wind). She must make adjustments, respond to those shifts and disturbances from within and from without in order to remain upright. To be static means she will fall, that the shifts that occur inside her and in the surrounding environs will ultimately render her unable to maintain an upright position.

Paul is rather emphatic about this image of standing when he discusses the armor of God in Ephesians 6. He speaks of "taking your stand against the devil's schemes" and exhorts believers to put on the full armor of God "so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand" (v. 13). Can you hear the strength and the victory pulsing through Paul's words? The believer is to be covered in armor, battle-ready and standing. The believer, whether or not she knows it, is engaging in battle simply by standing. And she really incites the enemy's anger when after stumbling, she bravely picks herself up, daring to resist him again.

In resisting him, she becomes stronger. Make no mistake: getting stronger hurts. It is a slow process. If we look at this from a physiological point of view again, getting stronger requires that we deliberately engage our muscles against the weight we are lifting. It requires that we repeat the motion of lifting or pressing, engaging our muscles repeatedly to the point of fatigue. In so doing, muscle fibers are broken down and we become sore as a result. In the days of rest that follow, the fibers are built back up, stronger than they were before. And we do it again and again.

What does this mean for us? It could mean any number of things, really. But I think it means that when the enemy comes against us, we remain vigilant and aware, engaging our strength and the power of God in us. It means we deliberately and intentionally don the armor of God to defend ourselves against the enemy and use the one tool of offense that we have in our arsenal with cunning and skill: the sword of the Spirit, the word of God (I have to wonder: could this also be the Word of God -- Christ Himself?). It means that it will happen again and again; there is no line we will cross in this life which, once past it, signals an arrival for us or a total defeat of the enemy. He will flee from time to time, but he always comes back. Sometimes it will mean that it will feel like we're being torn apart, that we will need to wait on God to tend to our wounds and rebuild us, making us stronger.

At the end of the day, I think remaining upright will mean staying attuned to the movements within ourselves and the disturbances outside of us, to balance ourselves dynamically against them all, engaging ourselves in such a way that those movements and perturbations won't make us fall. Even though we don't appear to be doing much, standing may require every ounce of strength we possess.

I had a dream last night, something like the one I had about six months ago. Though this one was not nearly as intense, it did bear a resemblance. The enemy came against me while I slept, pushing and pressing hard against my body and trying to move me by force out of my bed (why he's so fond of my bedroom, I'm not sure. Perhaps it's something to do with the vulnerable state of sleep?). I knew it was him, even with eyes closed. I resisted with all my strength and even in the depths of sleep, my spirit cried out Jesus, Jesus, Jesus! In truth, it felt more like worship than it did like weapon-wielding. The enemy kept at it for awhile, but eventually he left.

There was nothing particularly noteworthy about the encounter, nothing dramatic. The enemy came, I resisted, he left. It happens with us every day and it will happen again. But it struck me this morning: that was standing. That's what Paul enjoins us to do in Ephesians: stand your ground, and after you have done everything ... stand. We've said it before, but it bears repeating: standing is victory. It's Christ's victory in us and ours over the enemy. It's not the final word, but it is something, isn't it?

Standing is victory.

And so we keep standing. You are among the strongest and most beautiful women I know and I'm thankful to be sharing in the journey with you. I'm proud to stand with you.


To God be the glory forever and ever.
Amen.