A silent mantle of mist slowly rises as sunlight creeps down the coniferous hillside.I walk. I run. I wrestle. I pray.
It is a theme I cannot deny.
Everywhere I turn, everywhere I go, I see fresh reminders of its undisguised reality.
Thoughts in the shower,
wood-splitting with my brother,
conversations with friends,
work with saws and sanders,
a walk with my dear Mother,
family worships and personal devotions…
Evidences are everywhere.
There is a real battle to fight. Conflicts to engage in. Souls to be won.
Rest is not an option. There is no time to live mediocre Christianity.
I’m learning, a part-time Christian is no Christian at all.
In my half-asleep reality, it seems so real. The wrestling arena is filled.
The atmosphere is intense. And then I see Him. His powerful form causes
the strongest black-cloaked wrestler to shudder. There is no question who
will come off Victor. My Savior can win every wrestling match.
So it’s off to the thick of battle…
I must wrestle for those who cannot wrestle for themselves, holding the arm of the Divine.
“If God be for us, who can be against us?”