Warrior Training

WARRIOR TRAINING

Oh how I wish I could say that this is my wisdom but, I cannot get my mind off of this section from John Eldredge’s  book The Way of the Wild Heart on Warrior Training from the chapter “Raising the Warrior” (starting on pg. 168).  It is lengthy, but well worth the read.

I watch with such longing those warrior training scenes I mentioned earlier (from movies)—Godfrey and Balian, Morpheus and Neo, Tocoa.  For years I yearned for someone to take me on as their apprentice in the way of the Warrior.  As I thought about this chapter—and our fatherlessness and our predicament—I wondered, How does God bring that to a man, when there is no sort of training for spiritual warriors like this? Then it felt as though the Holy Spirit was gently but firmly directing my thoughts to my own life.  As I thought back over the past twenty years, I saw that nearly everything I’ve learned as a Warrior, I’ve learned on the field of battle, in the school of reality, the classroom of my life.  I realized the answer to the question:  “How does God raise the Warrior in a man?”

Hardship.

Something in you knows it’s true.  I think this is where we have most misinterpreted what God is up to in our lives.  As long as we are committed to the path of least resistance, to making our lives comfortable, trial and tribulation will feel unkind.  But, if we are looking for a dojo in which to train as a Warrior, well then—this is the real deal.  What better means than hardship?  What a better way to train a Warrior than by putting a man in situation after situation where he must fight?

I was on an overseas trip a few months ago, scouting the readiness of a country for a mission we had in mind.  As I drove with my colleagues to the airport, we asked Jesus for any advance words he might have for us (a very wise thing to do before going into battle).  Give way to nothing.  I had no idea what was about to happen, but in retrospect I understand why he said to nothing, rather than to certain things in particular, because it felt like I was hit with everything but the kitchen sink.  Our hosts were good men, but driven, neither Cowboys nor Warriors, in many ways still trying to implement the business model to Christianity.  The enemy whispers, You know more than they do, and the pull to make a subtle, arrogant agreement set in, which would have ruined our relationship.  Dismiss them, he says.  No, I reply.  No arrogance.  Five minutes later it turned to , They are dismissing you.

We walked into a hotel and the receptionist looked up. “May I help you?”  She was the mirror image of a girl I dated in high school, before I’d become a Christian.  The enemy was there in a moment, using an old wound to try to usher in seduction.  Remember?  You can have that again.  First pride and now lust—how men have fallen here? “No, thank you,” I said to her.  “We’re just here for a meeting.”  One of our colleagues ended up failing to meet us there.  Judgment gives it a try:  What a jerk.  Resentment steps in:  He’s always failing you.   My father wound was abandonment, and the enemy knows that, and tries to make me feel as though my friend—and everyone else—has abandoned me.  I won’t go with that, then it’s worry  and self-reproach:  Maybe something’s wrong.  Maybe you said something that hurt him.

Someone makes a comment about the difficulty of putting on the conferences we’d planned there, and fear rushes in.  What if this doesn’t work?  There’s no guarantee, you know.  This isn’t going to work.   I fight off fear.  Ten minutes later it’s not failure, but success.  You could make a lot of money off this, you know.  It was true, we could, but that’s not why we’d come.  “Let’s cut the rate we’re charging,” I said, “Let more guys in.”  The team looked a little puzzled, and self-doubt is there:  You idiot.  You shouldn’t have said that.  I swear to you all of this took place in the first hour and a half after landing.  We had three more days to go.

In the hotel room that night, I dream of the girl in high school, wake in the dark, disoriented, in some other country in the middle of the night in a sweat, and have to pray for an hour to get back to sleep.  Resignation, which so often accompanies weariness, followed.  This isn’t worth it.  “Yes, it is,” I say aloud in my room at 3:00 a.m.  More prayer.  The following morning, I am irritated at our hosts, who locked the keys in the rental car.  Idiots.  Dismiss them.  Get irritated at them.  This went on and on, nonstop, for days.  The waitress is beautiful, and the seduction tries again.  I refuse, and then comes, the reason you don’t want her is because you’re gay.  Okay, now they’ve even thrown in the kitchen sink.  Thank God I’ve seen enough fights to recognize it for what it was, and I hung on, giving way to nothing.   It felt like hanging on to the branch over a cliff.  Praying constantly—in the elevator, the car, the bathroom—being gracious to people who continued to make mistakes, fighting all this internally.

I could tell you a hundred stories like that.  From a single year.

You will be tested.  Like Jesus’ desert trial, the enemy comes, probing the perimeter.  He knows your story, knows where the weak spots are.  But this is our training.  This is the spiritual equivalent of, “Take a high guard, like this.  Strike from high.  Like this.  Do it.  Blade straighter.  Leg back.  Bend your knees.  Sword straighter.  Defend yourself.”  This is how we develop a resolute heart.  We make no agreements with whatever the temptation or accusation is.  We repent the moment we do stumble, repent quickly, so that we don’t get hammered.  We pray for strength from the Spirit of God in us.  We directly—and this is the one thing so many men fail to do—we directly resist the enemy, out loud, as Jesus did in the desert.  We quote scripture against him.  We command him to flee.

By the time it’s over, you’ll wish a few angels would drop in and minister to you as well.  I pray they do.

Men and Integrity

Men and Integrity

It has been on my heart for the last few weeks about this thing called integrity.  I need to start out here with my working definition of integrity:  Integrity is a state of being honest, keeping your word, and staying within the bounds of your character and morality.  There is more to it than this, but we can start there.

The thing that has stood out to me the most lately has been when I am out of integrity.  I notice that when I am out of integrity I tend to cast or transfer the recognition of that fact onto the person who is pointing it out to me.  This person may not even point it out directly…he/she may just be in integrity themselves and my own guilt and shame point out to me that I am not in integrity.  Out of that guilt and shame, I do not want to be “called out” about where I am.  I will use many manipulative techniques to “get them off my back.”  I use anger, condescending remarks, avoidance, etc.

This really came to light for me a few days ago when dealing with a student.  I will attempt to make a long story short.  He was brought to me by a teacher because he had not put forth his best effort and she “called him” on it.  He proceeded to be condescending, rude, and hateful to the teacher.  As I talked with him, I helped him realize that he had not given his best effort and that the teacher was essentially the mouthpiece of God calling him back into integrity.  I helped him understand that when we are out of integrity, we tend to manipulate the person who “called” us on it by making them feel inferior or at fault for correcting us. 

Now, this blog article is not about the story of the student or how I had one success out of ten tries in a discipline situation.  One of the things I have realized is that I have done this many times in my life, especially growing up. I would be out of integrity with my mother in some form or fashion and would use anger (in most cases) to get her to leave me alone.  I did not want to be told I was out of integrity (obviously, she did not use that wording, but that is what the core issue was). 

I have been involved with the Crucible Project (a men’s ministry) for some time now.  One of the many aspects of this ministry is working on staying in integrity as men.  Another concept we quote often is this idea of “you spot it, you got it.”  Essentially, this means many situations in life that throw us into some sort of judgmental state touch us at a core level because, we act that way ourselves, or we have been hurt by that action somewhere in our lives.  An example would be that I hate being lied to.  It brings up strong feelings of anger toward the person doing the lying.  The reason:  I grew up lying on a regular basis.  Basically, my anger towards the situation is really something I hate about myself.  Now, I have a right to be angry about being lied to, but the strong anger and reaction is really more about me than the person lying.  I have this ability to sense when someone is lying because I have vast experience in the field of lying.  I can spot because I’ve got it.  This concept has brought a better understanding of the Matthew 7:3-5 passage about the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and the plank in your own eye.  My lying past is my plank in my eye.  Recognizing this lying past allows me to help others with their lying present.  What keeps me from being judgmental about their lying is my admission to them about my past.  Hence, the “first take care of the plank in your own eye…” 

So, what has this got to do with integrity?  Let’s go back to the story of the student and his manipulation of his teacher.  As I am working with him, I point out that I too dislike being called back into integrity.  I used examples of how I have treated my mother, my wife, and my children when I am out of integrity.  Furthermore, a passage came to mind while I was working with this student (it is amazing how and when God reveals things to your heart and you have an “aha” moment).  In Genesis 3 we see the story of Adam and Eve and their fall from the perfect world God has created.  The part that stands out is this:

v. 6 “When the woman saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom, she took some and ate it, she also gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate it.”

He was there the whole time and did nothing!  Now, I have studied and used this passage many times in the context of men and their tendency toward passivity.  But this situation with the student took me even deeper in this story (verses 11-12):

And he said, “Who told you that you were naked?  Have you eaten from the tree that I commanded you not to eat from?”  The man said, “The woman you put here with me—she gave me some fruit from the tree, and I ate it.”

Adam, not wanting to be called back into integrity, did not own what he had done.  Instead, he blamed Eve.  He transferred his fault onto her!  Men have been doing this since the beginning!  Now, an easy tendency here is to blame it on Adam.  Does that not just continue the cycle?  I must own my veering off the path of integrity when I am called on it.  Even if it hurts my pride or sends me into the story I tell myself, “I’m worthless and don’t have what it takes to be a real man.”   

Now, going back to “you spot it, you got it.”  In helping that student with his issue, I essentially was able to help myself in some fashion.  I have noticed over the past year, the more I own of what I do, the less of a grip the devil has on me.  His stronghold is being broken and that particular sin masters me less.  I still have struggles in that area because the old pattern is hard to break.  However, I do recognize it faster and come to own it more and more.  Thank God for his revelation to me and softening my heart to recognize my sin…even if it is painful at the time.  But, so is surgery.  Hopefully, God’s surgery is all I need.  I would hate to experience His chemotherapy.  EEK!

Let me know what you think.  Please make comments, they help with my growth.

God Bless