Battle Armor

Battles. Every day is a battle. For all of us. Sometimes to just get out of bed. That is someone’s battle. Or to eat. Healthy. Or even to just eat. Or maybe the battle is in your head. Fighting memories. Lies. Thought patterns. Beliefs so ingrained they play on a record over and over. But bottom line. We all have battles.

I learned, at a very young age, to put on my armor. I watched. Heard. My grandparents pray. Sitting in their Laz-E-Boy recliners. Next to each other. Start their day by praying a simple prayer based on Ephesians 6:10-18.

“We put on the full armor of God so that we can stand firm against the schemes of the devil. For we struggle not against flesh and blood but against powers and principalities and rulers of the dark side. So we stand with truth buckled around our waists and righteousness as our breastplates. And with shoes on our feet for the eagerness to spread the gospel of peace. Always carrying the shield of faith to put out the burning arrows of the evil one. Accepting salvation from God to be our helmets and the word of the Spirit to be used as our swords.”

As I type this, I can hear my grandpa’s voice. Strong. Eyes closed. Reciting this prayer before he continued praying over family and friends and leaders.

My brother and I would sit on the couch. And listen. Listen to how they prayed. How they battled. As part of their morning routine. And this stuck with me.

I have put on my armor. Every morning. For over 20 years now. But now. More than ever. Walking out into my day, I have to be covered in my armor. I have to physically, moving my hands and my arms, place my armor on.

For a month now, a friend has repeated texted or said to me, “Helmet on.” Over and over she tells me this. But it wasn’t until this week that I realized exactly what she was saying.

I would think, “I HAVE my helmet on!” Then I realized. I needed to remember. Remind myself that my helmet is on. When the thoughts. The lies. When the swirling and ruminating and unfocusing happens. THAT is when I needed to remind myself that I am wearing my helmet of salvation and these lies and thoughts had no business taking up space in my head.

About the same time. A different friend. Came to me with a workout. A dance, she said. To physically push away the lies and thoughts. And with arms up blocking, she showed me a kicking, pushing away, of thoughts and lies, so they could not take up residence in my head. I did this dance for two days. Then forgot.

But the other day. It clicked. They both went together. When those lies and thoughts came. When I forgot about my helmet. I realized. I had to. I must! Kick. And push. Them away. Reminding myself, I have already placed the helmet of salvation on my head. Given to my by my Heavenly Father. Because I am a chosen, daughter of a Mighty King who made the choice to die for me! And those lies. Those thoughts. Were not from Him. And those lies. Those thoughts. Had no place. And I had no time. For them.

So I kick and push and speak them away. In my classroom at recess. My bedroom at night. In the kitchen while making dinner. Over and over. As many times. As long as it takes.

My battle. My battle is in my mind. But He has already won my battle. And I will fight knowing He has already given me the victory.