What do you daydream about? When you allow your mind to pull over at a rest stop or go on a mini-vacation, what does it think about? My mind usually goes straight to Kung-Fu. Well, I don't really know if you could call it "Kung-Fu." It's kind of my own version. I call it "J-Fu." It's a mixture of all the fights and battles I've ever seen all coiled up in one. Can I tell you how exciting and awesome it is to win every fight, to produce moves that even Batman would drool over? Even now I'm tempted to go there, to save another helpless soul or to defend my family.
How frequently does this happen? A lot. Most times though it happens before bed time. I imagine an intruder entering my room, and, of course, he never has time to harm us because I've already landed several elbows, a figure-four, and a double-eye poke for good measure. But it can happen anywhere at any time. I've defended myself and saved others miniature golfing, at church, Hershey Park, and the list goes on.
The funny thing is I was only in one fight my entire life, and I wouldn't even call that a fight. It consisted of us squeezing and biting each other. Seriously, when the teacher found us we were bright red, out of breath and each of us had a mouthful of hair in our mouths. Did I actually think before sinking my teeth into his scalp or was it pure animal instinct? At that point I might of chased a tennis ball down the hall if one was thrown. I don't even like conflict. I'm a middle child, and I've always been a peacemaker. But there is a part of me that wants to unleash these secret, unseen, unused moves on people who dare come against me. Maybe there will be a time when all of my make- believe battles will pay off, when someone really is trying to harm me, an innocent bystander, or someone I love.
Recently, God has been revealing something just beneath the punches, kicks, and fantasy rescues of my seemingly harmless dreaming. God has given me a move of His own. It's called the "convicter hold," and it has left me sore and wounded. The interesting thing about God's moves is that we can usually get out of them if we want to. This particular time, I chose to endure it, and it ended up being one of my best moves. Through it, I realized that my "J-Fu" symbolized the way I was approaching life and the way in which I was overcoming struggles. Instead of believing and living like it was God who won the battles and saved people's lives, I believed the lie that it was all me and my abilities and efforts. In other words, there was too much of me in the good fight. Too much of me in my marriage. Too much of me in my ministry. Too much of me in my parenting. Too much of me in my worship. Too much of me receiving the credit and applause when the victory was won.
Sometimes we think we're the Savior. We forget how small, weak, and needy we really are. We need to remember that we're not the main event, what people really came and want to see. We're the announcers introducing the one who already came and defeated our opponent.
When I was little, I used to watch wrestling, you know the fake kind, where it's 100% acting and 0% wrestling. Sometimes they would have a tag team match where two guys would be in the ring going at it while their teammates would be waiting behind the ropes for their partner to tag them when they needed a break. This is the best way to describe what I was doing so often. I was doing all the fighting while the God of the Universe was stretching out His hand to give me a break. But so often I ignored His outstretched hand and His cries to stop doing it alone, thinking that I could do it better and more efficiently. For years, I believed that those guys actually were wrestling that they actually were landing those moves. I still remember the day I found out that they were faking it. I never watched a match again. How could I? It wasn't real.
We need to know that God is the only Savior, the only Warrior and Rescuer, that our vain shadowboxing isn't worth any more of our time and effort. It's getting us nowhere. No one wants to find out that our lives were 100% us and 0% God. It's so easy to pretend that God's been in the ring with us the whole time, that is, until something disrupts our rhythm and we no longer are able to sidestep what's coming at us.
I welcome you to change the channel, to stop faking it and to turn and stretch your hands to the real Savior, the one who's begging to get in the ring with you. Please, drop the gloves and tag your partner already.
Luke 22:49
When the other disciples saw what was about to happen, they exclaimed, “Lord, should we fight? We brought the swords!”
How frequently does this happen? A lot. Most times though it happens before bed time. I imagine an intruder entering my room, and, of course, he never has time to harm us because I've already landed several elbows, a figure-four, and a double-eye poke for good measure. But it can happen anywhere at any time. I've defended myself and saved others miniature golfing, at church, Hershey Park, and the list goes on.
The funny thing is I was only in one fight my entire life, and I wouldn't even call that a fight. It consisted of us squeezing and biting each other. Seriously, when the teacher found us we were bright red, out of breath and each of us had a mouthful of hair in our mouths. Did I actually think before sinking my teeth into his scalp or was it pure animal instinct? At that point I might of chased a tennis ball down the hall if one was thrown. I don't even like conflict. I'm a middle child, and I've always been a peacemaker. But there is a part of me that wants to unleash these secret, unseen, unused moves on people who dare come against me. Maybe there will be a time when all of my make- believe battles will pay off, when someone really is trying to harm me, an innocent bystander, or someone I love.
Recently, God has been revealing something just beneath the punches, kicks, and fantasy rescues of my seemingly harmless dreaming. God has given me a move of His own. It's called the "convicter hold," and it has left me sore and wounded. The interesting thing about God's moves is that we can usually get out of them if we want to. This particular time, I chose to endure it, and it ended up being one of my best moves. Through it, I realized that my "J-Fu" symbolized the way I was approaching life and the way in which I was overcoming struggles. Instead of believing and living like it was God who won the battles and saved people's lives, I believed the lie that it was all me and my abilities and efforts. In other words, there was too much of me in the good fight. Too much of me in my marriage. Too much of me in my ministry. Too much of me in my parenting. Too much of me in my worship. Too much of me receiving the credit and applause when the victory was won.
Sometimes we think we're the Savior. We forget how small, weak, and needy we really are. We need to remember that we're not the main event, what people really came and want to see. We're the announcers introducing the one who already came and defeated our opponent.
When I was little, I used to watch wrestling, you know the fake kind, where it's 100% acting and 0% wrestling. Sometimes they would have a tag team match where two guys would be in the ring going at it while their teammates would be waiting behind the ropes for their partner to tag them when they needed a break. This is the best way to describe what I was doing so often. I was doing all the fighting while the God of the Universe was stretching out His hand to give me a break. But so often I ignored His outstretched hand and His cries to stop doing it alone, thinking that I could do it better and more efficiently. For years, I believed that those guys actually were wrestling that they actually were landing those moves. I still remember the day I found out that they were faking it. I never watched a match again. How could I? It wasn't real.
We need to know that God is the only Savior, the only Warrior and Rescuer, that our vain shadowboxing isn't worth any more of our time and effort. It's getting us nowhere. No one wants to find out that our lives were 100% us and 0% God. It's so easy to pretend that God's been in the ring with us the whole time, that is, until something disrupts our rhythm and we no longer are able to sidestep what's coming at us.
I welcome you to change the channel, to stop faking it and to turn and stretch your hands to the real Savior, the one who's begging to get in the ring with you. Please, drop the gloves and tag your partner already.
Luke 22:49
When the other disciples saw what was about to happen, they exclaimed, “Lord, should we fight? We brought the swords!”
Comments
I've been reading your posts, good stuff! Each one seems to hit me right where i am, and i definately do the kung fu thing all the time! I thought i was the only crazy person who did this, guess not! haha... anyway, thanks for the posts keep up the good work