I walked through the halls of my barracks, a Pepsi in my hand. At the time, I usually either had a Pepsi or a beer. Out of no where two guys jumped me. You have to realize, I knew both of them. It is still strange to me that they would attack me, knowing that I knew them. And it is more strange to me that they would attack me over a can of pop. But, attack me they did.
“Give me that.” The one in front said, while the one in back grabbed me.
That was enough for me. I did two smart things in the next moment. First, with my free hand, I reached down and grabbed the leg of the one behind me, pulling up hard and sitting down hard. The second thing I did was yell, “Schrantz!”
Now, my attackers were both bigger than me, stronger than me. But they weren’t bigger than Schrantz. And Schrantz, for reasons I will never understand, was my friend. At the sound of his footsteps pounding down the hall, both guys disappeared. It was magical. I don’t even remember how the one underneath me got free. I just remember that the next minute found them gone, vanished into thin air.
I thought of this during a time where I am struggling once again with attackers who seem bigger, more powerful, than I am. I remember this just in time as I face, again, my greatest enemy.
It is not a guy thing. It is not even particular to any one ethnic group or geographical location. One problem so many of us face is the unwillingness to cry for help. We view it as weakness. We don’t want others to know our sins, our failings, our humanness. So we try to fight on our own. Even in churches surrounded by people we attempt to overcome satan and his forces, our flesh, our surroundings all by ourselves.
This is ridiculous. It needs to stop.
In the Army, we each had our “Ranger buddy”. The guy who we knew had our back. The guy who, when everything went bad, stood beside you. You covered them too and jumped in whenever they were in need. There was no thought of convenience or time, no consideration of what might happen to you. Because we worked under the knowledge that we would all face situations that were bigger, meaner than our ability to cope with, we just helped, we stood for each other, we survived.
Don’t go it alone. Find that brother, that sister that will cover you, that you can cover. They ARE there. Don’t listen to the lie. Don’t be afraid of the burn, the betrayal. Find someone and stand together.
Cry for help!
2 thoughts on “A Cry for Help”
Excellent advice, but you are right, we are taught not to ask for help.
Every day being important, alleviates the necessity to have a special one in order to be thankful, contemplative.
It is indeed my life that matters so much, for what I do affects, touches you in ways I may never know.
My heart is what I most want to give you, and then take you with me, into the next moment… tomorrow. This in itself is reason enough to care very much, about all the ‘ little things ‘ I do… today.