Full Armor of God

Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand.

- Ephesians 6:13

Seems a little redundant, doesn’t it? I mean, you already said “stand your ground,” God. Why “to stand” again? Seems like we need a little editing. This verse, more than almost any other, speaks to the sanctified stubbornness of the Christian who is going to trust God come hell or high water, who’s going to do it even when all logic swings the other way. And this is very hard for people like us who are very concerned with control, who naturally gravitate toward bringing all the threads of life into a neat weave. When those threads keep flying out of our fingers, we are indeed hard-pressed and perplexed (2 Cor. 4:8).

You have to be stubborn. People like us are very good at being stubborn, especially when we know that something is right. And we have to be stubborn about this, about believing God, about wearing that helmet of salvation even when doubting, negative thoughts try to seep in. Of all the things in your life you give your stubbornness to, give God the first-fruits of that stubbornness. Be as Pharaoh was with the Israelites in Egypt: be obstinate, be stubborn, be hardheaded, be unreasonable, be a toddler with a tantrum when it comes to believing God. You keep taking those thoughts captive and bringing them around like naughty children into obedience to Christ. (2 Cor. 10:5) Be warned: There will come a point even in that worthy orneriness where you don’t have the strength to be stubborn. Take heart: at that point, when it seems one more army has amassed solely to wear you down so the other armies can take you, all it takes is asking God for strength. By the end of this, by the time God sends that deliverance you are doggedly believing for, you will have changed your strength many times over, you will have discovered what it actually looks like and feels like to be strong with none of your strength. This is what happens when you say “YES” and you keep saying “YES.”

But this is what I mean about being stubborn. You don’t need to be stubborn when the battle is easy, when everything seems to be going your way. When God seems to be blessing your every move and you sit securely in the middle of your life. It’s when you’ve somehow swung to the outer rim of your life, spinning in the mad gyration of the wheel so you can’t even find the hub where everything is still. What happens when you’ve said “YES” to God and you’re still spinning? What happens when he seems to be a little slow on the uptake? Uh, God? I said yes. I don’t know if you heard me, maybe I wasn’t loud enough. But I said yes to you. So could you, uh, maybe do something now?

And he’s looking right back at you with compassion and kindness, nodding and saying patiently, “Yes, I know. I heard you.” And not saying anything else. But his eyes see everything. They see your wildly wheeling spirit, they see your desperation, they see your absolute frustration with yourself – Why can’t you get it together? – they see those pure moments of trust that you sure do hope last longer than they did the last time.

What you have to understand is he is not being smug about it. Nor is he being reluctant to move. How many of us love to be able to rush in and save the day? Many of us do just that on a pretty regular basis. We’re the ones who don’t panic in a crisis, we’re the reasonable friends who give good counsel to others who are in dire straits, we are the ones who organize the bake sales and the fundraising buffets. We are the ones others turn to when they’re at their wits’ end. They instinctively know that we will listen, help, and usually have good ideas they haven’t thought of. And we love it, don’t we? We love that expansive feelings that we averted disaster, that we were able to help those we love, that we proved ourselves worthy of the trust they have in us. While that enjoyment can tip out of balance if we let it go to our heads, it is a worthy thing in itself. We genuinely want to help and we feel a real satisfaction when we see everything calmed down and put right, when those in our care can finally breathe that sigh of relief. How much more does God feel that? Never deceive yourself that he has something better to do than save you. That is his heart’s desire. And considering the fact that he has all the power one can imagine to put any situation to rights (Job 38), what’s stopping him? Nothing. That can wig us out more than anything. Nothing is stopping him and yet he’s not doing anything? That logic doesn’t match up. But it does when you consider that he is the master of efficiency. He kills nineteen birds with one stone. And many times, if he acted when you expected him to, the way you expected him to, you wouldn’t glean nearly as much good as if you had just let him do it his way. And think of how you are. How often do you hold out when you know that you’ll get a little bit more if you do? How often do you choose to save than to spend? How many times do you take the time to put everything in place before starting a project, knowing how much more efficient you’ll be once you’ve started because of the preparation? We’re careful and we’re efficient and we want the maximum return from our investments. It’s how we roll. And there’s a reason for it. That is how God made us. He didn’t make us all happy-go-lucky, free-flowing hipsters. We were intentional. Even when we are in complete submission to God and we see the results of that in every area of our lives, we will always be inclined that way. And when brought into balance under God, he can do great things with those tendencies. That side of us is a reflection of that side of God.

What’s hard to handle is when “you have done everything” and you are expected just “to stand.” We like being in control. We can’t help that. We like the first part of the verse. What a glorious, powerful, purposeful picture to put on the full armor of God and stand our ground. The battle is just beginning, the vision of victory is clear and unmarred, our armor is clean and freshly strapped on, our bodies are well-fed and well-rested, and our minds are focused. Bring it on! “Oh, God, what glories are mine in my strong hands that know the grip of the sword, the carved muscles of the swing and cut, the unbending back and the clear vision. What strength comes from you, what wonders you have wrought in me. I am your daughter. I am your warrior-princess.” I said those words. Man! That feels good. And it is good. It is part of this journey to become the warriors we were always meant to be.

But what happens when you’ve been fighting for a while and you don’t want to admit it, but you’re getting really tired. You’re worn out. You just want to take off the armor for a bit, stretch your tight muscles, take a much-needed bath, and hit the sheets. Wait – what? You mean there’s no break coming? The enemy is not stopping? Even for a little while? I just need a break. Aw, man!

I’m serious. This is what we’re feeling.

And this is where you stand. It is not redundant. You have done everything. You have trusted God, said “YES” to him, fought with him, claimed his Word over your life and your situation, battled with the full armor of God, and kept at it. You have unleashed the power of praise and worship. You have even stilled and quieted yourself – a hard thing for us to do – and experienced God’s strength replacing your own. You have done everything. And the battle is still waging. There’s no breath to be taken, no pause in the action. It’s still coming and you’re at the end of your strength. You’re wobbly now as you’re trying to hold that vision of the outcome you’re believing for. More and more often you don’t really feel good or bad, just numb, just tired and ordinary and a little dulled. Or you start to hear doubts once again that that outcome you’re believing for was wrong somehow and God won’t help you achieve it because it’s outside his will. You can’t remember what it felt like to stand with your shiny armor and your legs planted on the firm soil of God’s promises. Your armor is all beat up, dented, and dusty. It’s not so pretty now. So what do you do now?

You stand. You accept that there is a place for you on the front lines of this war, but there are also battles to be fought by God alone, often for our sake. There are times to fight and there are times to be rescued. There are times to offer your strength and there are times to accept your weakness and times to keep repeating that God will make his way known to you and guide you straight. And there comes a time when you have to accept that God knows every part of you, knows how well you’ve fought for him, and is as button-busting with pride that you come to him with your exhaustion and weaknesses as he ever was that you were gripping your sword and taking a swing at the enemy.