A furtive glance in the mirror confirms what I have been suspecting all along, time is leaving its mark. With each passing day I notice more hairs from atop my head going on one way trips down the shower drain, and the graying temples that once seemed distinguished seem so no longer. The harbingers of a fleeting life seem more pronounced, from sprouting hairs in odd places such as my ears, to achy joints, to a constant and unnerving need for quiet and solitude.
Futile and foolish things such as a leaky roof or a persistent toothache monopolize my time, and when I take an accounting of the day that was, I realize very little time was dedicated to lasting or purposeful pursuits.
I find myself spending more and more time in prayer not to grow, or to ascend, but merely to stay level, merely to hold my ground and not retreat. Already, I am haggard and worn, and then I have to remind myself that we have not yet begun to fight, we have not yet stood against the full fury of the enemy’s last siege.
In talking to friends and fellow ministers, I’ve discovered I am not alone in this state of being. The enemy is attempting to whittle away our resolve, to whittle away our dedication, to dampen our fire, and bring us to a place of sluggish spirituality, a state of spiritual dryness, wherein spiritually speaking we’re just drudging along, getting by from one day to the next, and the very act of spiritual survival seems like an overwhelming and taxing effort.
Every minister I’ve spoken to thus far has confirmed what I’ve been suspecting for awhile, the enemy is not employing full frontal assaults, but rather sneak attacks, small jabs and pricks that accumulate over time and both frustrate and weaken us.
I’ve been debating whether or not I should post this, it’s mostly just my early morning ramblings, but I decided to post it because I think there are many others who are feeling this selfsame oppression, this persistent onslaught that isn’t coming from anywhere in particular but is evident nevertheless.
There is one conclusive truth that we must never lose sight of, even when spiritually speaking we are not feeling like giants, or supermen, but rather like tired souls trying to break through the storm clouds and into the light.
Whether haggard, worn, bruised, bloodied, blistered or exhausted, the only thing that matters is that we make it home. There are no believers that make it to heaven with their garments in pristine condition. By the time we get there our garments will be torn and bloodied, caked in our own exhaustion, hence the reason we are given a new garment, a white garment upon arrival. Our duty is not to try and spare ourselves, to keep ourselves from battle, to avoid the hard tasks and the dark times, but to commit to holding our ground, to commit to putting one foot in front of the other and barreling through until that glorious day when we will see Him face to face, when our fight will have been fought, and our race will have been run, and the only thing left to do will be to enter into His eternal rest.
Haggard, worn, bruised and bloodied as I might be I will not give up because home is closer now than ever before. There is finality to every journey, there is a point of arrival, and our destination, our point of arrival is within view.
Hebrews 10:37, “For yet a little while, and He who is coming will come and will not tarry.”
With love in Christ,
Michael Boldea Jr.