You again? I thought I had disposed of you long ago, but no. This seems to be an endless fight. Once again, you approach me in the dark. Why?
You approach me when I thought all was well in my walk. But I was fooled, for there were shadows lurking all around me.
So I rise, and face you just like I have in the past. I raise my hands to defend my face, but before I can lift them, your hand has brushed my face, and blood is streaming from the cut you left. Your hands are burning like flames against my chest. My knees are filled with a chill, as the heat from your hatred cripples me. Walking forward is no longer an option. What happened to the confidence I once strutted with? The peace I once claimed was mine?
Your very presence has crushed it.
You have taken my hands, and shook them with such great strength that I can no longer defend myself with them.
You have halted me along my path, and now.... Now I am fallen.
My breath comes in short gasps, and you?
You laugh as you slowly strangle me. As the smile plays on your lips I see your very thoughts. You knew that I could not last forever. You knew that death was something every human must face. One day, even you... Will have to face it.
But for now, you have control.
You crave it, like the beast craves flesh. Like the flames crave fuel.
All the while I slowly fade. As my eyes begin to close, with the taste of my own blood on my lips.... Things go black.
Suddenly your hands are no longer crushing my neck, your knees are no longer pressed into my chest... but I do not notice. For I have slipped into unconsciousness.
Time passes, how much? I do not know. But it is long. For when I awake, the shadows that had penetrated my soul have passed.
My head is throbbing, and the cut on my cheek is swollen and bruised. But then I look, and here stands another. His face holds an identical slice on the cheek as mine. But there is one difference, he has two of those cuts. One on each cheek. He reaches down and gives me his hand, I take it.
What is this? My mind races. Questions swirl thickly threw my battered mind. But then they cease, and I look ... those wounds aren't new. They are scars. This man has faced YOU before???
Yet how has he won? No man has ever won. Little battles maybe, but to pry YOU off of a victim when the victory was seconds away?
Never.
As I open my mouth to speak, he looks deeply at me.
I am forever silenced.
For when he looked at me, he said the words I had been waiting to hear all my life:
"It is finished."
He faced you, Fear. And won the battle. And here he stands to help me fight you.
For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear, but you received the Spirit of sonship. And by him we cry, “Abba, Father.” -Romans 8:15
