
Victim, a slave under someone else’s control and dominion. Unable to make decisions for themselves they accept abuse and criticism, they allow others to ruin or bless their every moment. When things go wrong, it is easy to blame and silently accuse those above them for they see no fault in themselves. At best they are petty and useless in their rebellion, often succumbing to passive aggression to show their anger and hurt.
Victor, the person who stands and fights. Interestingly, even in our movies, the hero does not conquer without receiving his fair share of wounds. He just “wants it” so much that he or she will push past the pain, the injuries, to rise above the evil that they face. To receive no wounds, to not get dirty, sweaty, tired or hurt is unrealistic. We can’t relate to those heroes. They are not honored or loved because they are not worthy.
The victor fights against the abuses hurled at them. When they fail, and they do fail, they accept the fault that they played and fight on. They go beyond the criticisms they feel, not because of pride but because they love, they value something greater than themselves. There is nothing passive about their behavior, their attacks on their enemies. And they openly accept that they may die in the conflict. So much better to die fighting than to die on an altar to some master of hate.
So which one am I? I get to choose. I get to choose everyday, every second. What will I be? Will I accept? Will I lay down in the mud and be trampled? Will I give up, give in to what others have for me? Or will I choose to put my armor on, choose to lift my sword and shield, choose to FIX my eyes on Jesus? He is the only one who would choose victory, real victory for me, for my life, for my family, for my friends, my brothers and sisters.
But, He leaves it up to me to decide.
He leaves it up to you.
Looking at you I notice what you cannot, behind glasses too dark to see through. In the land of habit, where questioning not during your day in a comfy chair kinda way, slothfulness, body worshiping, blind leading the blind, afraid of the light, hide. To a discerning eye, greatness is visible underneath the costume you wear like skin; most precious it is.
A lighthouse can be a comforting sight when I realize I’m lost. Sensing it wants nothing more than to help me help myself, I welcome its guidance to navigate this boat, brighten the night skies, lead me to where a prosperous, peaceful day lies.
Forward I go into uncharted land, even bigger than I’d dreamt it’d be. One foot in front of the other, one step at a time I face, what I once could not. Then lo, to the delight of my heart I see… it was fear yes fear guiding me.