THE WRONG SIDE OF THE TRACKS

Growing up in an underserved area of Oklahoma did not seem so bad. We had beds, food, and our basic needs met. Being a sick kiddo most of my life was the norm. Unknowingly, I adapted to this way of life, it was the best way to survive in situations such as poverty, alcoholism, drug abuse, addictive behaviors, emotional instability, cynicism, militant discipline mixed with no boundaries. There were no limits to the yelling, being a human shield, thankfully without physical injury. It was normal, it is what I did to survive, it was a battle. The role models loved and raised us the best way they knew how, given their experiences of living through the Great Depression. My big sister was 13 years my senior and given the responsibility to raise this sick kid when emotionally absent parents were too busy to raise another child they did not want. Socializing consisted of annual festivals of inebriation on Independence Day and Christmas Eve. Love consisted of mixed messages of inappropriate affection, hugs, and lack of accountability for the things that honor God. My big sister, and big brother provided a better way of life for me, I fiercely love and respect them for their devotion, love, and support they have showered on me over the years.

Consider how you think about someone who cannot make good decisions. They are lost, need unspoken prayer, they need Jesus, or they are sitting on the fence about Jesus. Before we see or know Christ, we walk on the dark side, we do not know that we are walking on the dark side, we do not know that our bad decisions are wrong. I was that person. Most of growing up was darkness, which is all that I knew. There was no other way, it was the norm. The consequences may not be good or right, but they are known and comfortable because of the familiar dysfunction that comes from poor decisions. As I grew up there were inconsistencies between home life and school, classmates did life differently and better, why?

Curiously, I sat on the fence, I started to realize there is a better way of life, life in Christ. Nostalgically, that little devil sits perched on the other shoulder saying, “It’s more fun to do it this way, go ahead, it’s ok.”  The temptation is real. The crossroads between good and evil cause doubt, confusion, insecurity. To walk past this crossroads, I needed to trust that He would see me through to the other side because what I was doing was not working well. Being a new Christian is process, it requires tenacity, focus, time to trust, time to learn what the sword is and how to use it. It would be a lie to say making excellent decisions came overnight when I accepted Jesus as my savior. I am sad to say that I am the quintessential Israelite from the ancient world of the Old Testament. I change too slowly, make mistakes, pray for forgiveness, and start over, repeat. It disheartens me to look back over my life that I have taken far too long to get my act together. Then I find courage and fierceness in the memorized scriptures that prop my arms up during the battles. Sitting on the fence provided time to see the value between what the dark side meant for evil and how He intended it for good. Keep in mind sitting on the fence is a good biblical principle, but that is where I learned to do better.

I jumped off the fence onto the right side of the tracks, the battle is different now. What I did not know was that as time progressed, the depth of our relationship would solidify experiences He had brought me through with peace, grace, mercy, and abundant blessings. My take on this fleshly conundrum is this: the deeper we go in Christ, the better we are prepared to use the armor more proficiently. I certainly would not want to be unprepared for the fiery darts of the evil one without my shield of faith. When I obtained the helmet I surrendered my addictions, abuse, and my history to Christ. When I overcame the shame and broken flesh, I gained my breastplate, it was unusual and uncomfortable at first but eventually it fit like a glove. As I dug deeper still into relationship with Christ, I realized something awkward around my waist, it took me a long time to believe I AM and His truth, to trust the Trinity with all my heart. I knew I could not return to the other side of the tracks. My feet are beautiful now and ready to bring the message of salvation, peace, and stillness. My feet are ready to run a race to bring the good news to those who will listen and hear. I work at every opportunity through my actions, my words, my generosity, and whatever means God gives me. Finally, the sword, I seek training daily with a passion, always learning or relearning something new, it is what I do to thrive and flourish. I am comforted by His mysterious plan; we both know that my armor is perfect, but my flesh is not. At the right time for the right reason, if untouched by me, a beautiful story unfolds. My armor has protected me well, for that I am eternally grateful, there are more battles ahead. I am also grateful that He is loyal and provides for us. He knows us well, and our ability to withstand the weight and responsibility of the armor. We fight with our armor in battles on earth, Michael, and Gabriel lead legions of angels fight in the heavenlies, and HE wins this war. Put your armor on for the day of His return is nigh!