Sometimes I wake up and it’s there. Unannounced and unwanted, it delivers a swift and sudden blow that leaves me gasping for air. And it’s not until the breath has slowly returned to my lungs that I realize what has happened. It’s then I consider all the ways I should have protected myself… All the techniques I should have used to block the attack… All the defenses I should have put up.
Sometimes, I see it coming. Like a dark knight on a distant hilltop, it hovers around on the outskirts of a peaceful village… Surveying… Warning… Boldly announcing an inevitable assault. And I think to myself, “get ready”, “he’s coming”, “put your armor on”, “get your weapons out”, “take cover”… But I don’t. I don’t do anything. I don’t fortify my walls. I don’t prepare my troops. I don’t safeguard the weak. I don’t send for reinforcement. The piles grow in my closet. Days go by without me making my bed. My office gets buried under unopened mail. My car becomes a disheveled mess. I stop reading my Bible. And I just lay there, in an open field, wounded and defeated, waiting to be trampled.
But sometimes, I hear a sound… A word, a song, a voice calling. I see a sign of something, clearly. I feel a breeze flow, gently. And instead of begging for death, I am reminded that I have been given life to live. It’s then that I repent of my “woe is lazy me self-worshiping” party, I take out my Bible, I pop in a sermon, I read another chapter, I sing another song, I get up from the field, I do my laundry, I clean out the car, I make my bed, I tackle the office, and I start living – abundantly.