"Wrestling With My Pillow"

Wrestling has never been my sport. To be honest "sports" have never been my sport. Worry...there is an area I can compete in. The problem with worry is there is no hope of winning. You've already lost before you even begin. Who wants to play a sport like that? You walk into the game tagged as a loser. For the last few months I have been having a wrestling match with my pillow. Sleep is not the problem once I find my way there. Getting to sleep is the problem. I toss and turn and some nights try to find a dry spot not laced with tears to lay my head. Faith, hope, trust, blessings...all the things I KNOW and teach and speak of and live somehow seem to find a hiding place when my head hits the pillow. The emotions, the hurts, the fears and the doubt all seem to surface and the wrestling match begins. The pillow is merely the tangible. My true wrestling opponent cannot be packed into such a neat and fluffy casing. A battle ensues each night as the minutes in red flash by so quickly. It is a battle of flesh versus spirit and yet I know in my heart that the battle is not mine. HE has warned me of the battle, but promised it is HIS and HE has won. Why do I insist on a fight that doesn't even belong to me? I sing and I pray and I quote scriptures the same as I did when I was five and monsters were lurking in the hall and living under my bed. I sing praises and the praise rises up and conquers the fear and then I am silent and allow my opponent a lofty lead. WHY? The obvious answer we know...I am a sinful man. Yet that answer does not suffice "for we are more than conquerors through Him who loves us and gave His life for us." I want to win this battle and yet I play as one who wants to lose. Laziness. There is a possible answer. It is easier to be lazy and accept defeat than to fight the battle and live a life that is disciplined, trained and fit. Lazy is not a word that I want associated with my name. If I am tagged as lazy then why work so hard at the stacks of folded laundry, the swishing of the toilet brush, the print free glass and meals that desire praise. This new found laziness I can only mask for a time. It begins to show in the dark circles under my eyes and in the weariness of my step and yet once again I know the REAL issue. I lack obedience. I possess everything I need for life and godliness and I choose to be lazy in this match against flesh and blood. Obedience is a choice. Daily the words, "Choose to obey" come out of my mouth as instruction to the four young men I am privileged to call sons. Choose. You have a choice and you know the results. Choose selfishness and reap the consequences or choose obedience and reap the rewards. We can sew to the flesh or we can sew to the spirit. We are instructed "not to become weary in doing good." We are not to become weary in this battle and yet "weary" seems to be such a pale word to describe my heart and the way in which I fight today. What is beyond weary? Defeat? A choice! Defeat does not come as a result of obedience for our specific instructions were NOT to become weary. Do not give up. Fight! Persevere! A harvest is waiting to be reaped but you cannot give up. Do farmers plant crops, weed, water, fertilize and then give up? No, they patiently wait and weather the rain, the wind, the hail and the cold and they reap the harvest that was never in their control, all the while trusting it to the hands of their Father and willing to accept what He yields as good. Giving up would make all the work to this point seem futile. Giving up means allowing someone else to reap the rewards and I know who that someone is and I know his plans for the harvest and I do not trust him at all. He seeks to destroy and reek havoc on our crops. Do not give up! I hear those words over and over again. Do not give up! My heart begins to argue...but Lord I have had enough sickness, sorrow, heartache, fear and worry and He says..."ENOUGH. It is finished. The complaining, the murmuring, the pity party, the doubt of My perfect plan and My perfect will. Enough!" He is God and He is good. Enough? It becomes a question. Is it enough to know that? It is! I know in my heart it is and the fight is worth it. It is all I have ever fought for. It is the only fight I know and it is worth it. For I know that my battle is NOT against flesh and blood, but it is a spiritual battle. It is a daily battle. The pearl was produced from irritation, the diamond a result of laborious mining and a bouquet of roses found in the midst of thorns seeking blood. Joy can be birthed from sorrow. Sorrow lasts for a night, but joy comes in the morning. The sorrow of watching The Savior nailed to a tree and brutally sacrificed birthed joy unspeakable. The wrestling match will continue, but the cause of the fight will change. No longer will I choose to fight for my flesh, for my rights or even for my comfort. My fight is for obedience. Doubt, fear, worry and weariness will be the victim of a head lock or maybe even a full nelson. Whatever that is? I will not give up and I will not accept defeat. How about you? Can you relate? Do you understand? Obedience. I choose to obey. Joy is found in obedience.