He was careless in the conflict, and a bit presumptuous in the battle. Unaware of the schemes or the true power of his enemies – unaware at times of who his enemies actually were – he went down, wounded in the battle.
This is not your typical military operation. This is a spiritual battlefield, known for its invisible armies and stealth weapons. Known also for its enormous array of spectators – some cheering you on from heaven, others just watching a battle they themselves should be engaged in.
Lying there, ashamed, in pain, and afraid, it’s easy for discouragement and fear to have the final word. But deep in his spirit another wounded soldier’s testimony from long ago begins to stir his broken courage and will:
Do not rejoice over me, my enemy;
When I fall, I will arise;
When I sit in darkness,
The Lord will be a light to me.
I will bear the indignation of the Lord,
Because I have sinned against Him,
Until He pleads my case
And executes justice for me.
He will bring me forth to the light;
I will see His righteousness (Micah 7:8-9, NKJV).
And there, against his fear and humiliation, his soul begins to awaken to The Cry of the Wounded.
I’m gonna get up when I get knocked down.
I’m gonna be led when I cannot see.
I’m gonna face up to the way I’ve sinned.
And the Lord’s gonna win the fight for me.
I’m gonna get up when I get knocked down.
Sorry if I’m the first to break this to you, but don’t be surprised by the fact that you – yes, you – could possibly fail. Micah didn’t say, “If I fall,” but “When.”
And since I’m in heartbreaker mode, let me break this to you as well: Don’t be surprised that you have enemies! I know you try to be everybody’s friend, and people think you’re awesome and all that. But when you’re wounded and bleeding on the battlefield, you will find out pretty quickly that you have enemies. They’re easy to recognize – just look at those verses again.
Enemies kick you when you’re down. They rejoice when you fall. Enemies abandon you when you are in darkness. And they accuse you when you’re guilty (they love to point out the obvious).
I don’t care if they appear to be an angel from God or a demon from hell, when someone acts like an enemy it’s because they’ve positioned themselves as one.
Proverbs 24:16 says, “A righteous man falls seven times, and rises again.” That’s the measure of righteousness – not whether you get knocked down, but whether you get up. And if it’s you I’m talking to, please don’t just lie there, wounded and bleeding. Get up!
I’m gonna be led when I cannot see!
Micah’s declaration shows three images of failure for a Christian. Falling suggests something you didn’t set out to do – something unintended and unnatural. Darkness suggests a complete loss of direction, where you are totally confused and blind to your surroundings (can you relate?). Sitting is being in a completely defenseless position, vulnerable and not moving.
Memo to the spectators: Just like on a physical battlefield, whatever else a person like that needs, he or she needs to be taken to a place of safety. Like your church! It’s a healing place for broken people, isn’t it? Isn’t it?
Memo to the wounded: You don’t have the luxury of waiting for fellow soldiers who may or may not “get it.” Ultimately in your life, do you know who meets that need? “When I sit in darkness, the Lord will be a light to me,” Micah says. Listen for His voice. Watch for Him to lead you to a safe place where the healing can begin. He didn’t stop leading you, even when you quit following Him.
I’m gonna face up to the way I’ve sinned.
Some of the most spiritually refreshing words you can say are, “I have sinned. I blew it. Nobody’s fault but mine.” The kind of person God can use is not necessarily the one who has never failed, but the one who can look his failure in the eye and call it what it is. Stop blaming the economy or your mama or the devil or your bad habit or addiction. You did it. And there is great power in owning that.
If I were to tell you that wherever you are right now, God could heal you, use you again, get you battle ready and back out there, would you be willing to admit you have sinned? Would you be willing to call your failure what it is? Would you be willing to bear your responsibility?
But aren’t there consequences? Yes.
Doesn’t he say “I will bear the indignation of the Lord?” Uh huh.
How long is that? Not nearly as long as the east is from the west, which is how far He has removed your guilt from you.
The Lord’s gonna win the fight for me.
When a soldier does down in battle someone has to take up the fight. Someone has to carry the banner, someone has to call in the reinforcements. Who does that for a wounded Christian?
Read this again:
I will bear the indignation of the Lord until He pleads my case and executes justice for me.
Who is it who holds the enemy back when you’re down?
Who is it that (literally) tells your critics and tormenters to shut the hell up?
Who is it that refuses to abandon you when the lights go out?
Who is it who rises to your defense against your accusers?
The same God whose indignation you bear! And the word for that is “grace.”
God is our Father, and He has the right to teach us, to correct us, and to discipline us. But He also rises to defend us against our accuser. Why? Because He has already carried your guilt to a cross and left it nailed there, once and for all.
Maybe you’re wounded, and your temptation is just to sit there and bleed.
Maybe you’re playing a game with yourself. You’re bleeding, but you don’t want anyone else to know it. So you just play the game and pretend everything’s OK when it isn’t.
Maybe you are in the darkness, and you’re confused and don’t know where to go.
But maybe your biggest battle isn’t with your enemies who are accusing you or with the wounds that are weakening you. Your battle is against your own distorted image of God.
Do you know what it’s like to be wounded? Do you know what it’s like to wonder if God will ever have any use for you again? Do you know what it’s like to sit there accused?
Learn the cry of the wounded. Quit playing the blame game. Quit sending out invitations to the pity party. Quit telling yourself that this is your third (or twelfth or twentieth) strike and you’re out.
For God’s sake… and yours… Get up!
I ♥ THIS one too 🙂
Thank you !
Thank YOU, Beth!
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