I think all I have gone through has left me grim and (to use an archaic word) fell. This may be good. Experience and Scripture have left me realistic (grim) about walking faithfully with God. In the last ten years, I prayed for the healing of my mother, brother, and son. All have died. (Let me know if you would like me to pray for you too.)
“Prophetic words” I thought I heard have fallen flat. Promises for this side of the grave have evaporated like Oregon fog. The truth that God is with me is encouraging, but I have seldom had any sense of his presence or heard His voice.
Through all this I have been helped by Scripture. The book of Job gives comfort, but not the feel-good help preachers often offer. Job has some grim truths. First, you may be fighting in a spiritual battle you know nothing about. Second, things can get worse and often do. Third, victory may be nothing more than our refusal to curse God. Fourth, that in all this God may be silent and seem absent. Fifth, friends will often blame you for God’s absence and silence. Job does declare, “And as for me, I know that my Redeemer lives.” However, he also wishes that he had been a miscarriage. This is grim indeed.
The Psalms have also left me grim. David laments:
I have sunk in deep mire, and there is no foothold; I have come into deep waters, and a flood overflows me. I am weary with crying; my throat is parched. My eyes fail while I wait for God. (Ps. 69:2-3).
I feel this way when Teckla wakes up and asks, “Who are you? How did you get here?” Psalm 119:83 uses an especially poignant metaphor, “Though I have become like a wineskin in the smoke, I do not forget thy statutes.” As I age and watch my skin sag and crack, I daily feel like a smoked wineskin. Again, and again, Psalmists complain about the silence and absence and delay of God, and yet grimly assert their faith in Him.
All this has also left me “fell” in the archaic sense of being fierce and dangerous. Because of Job, I know all the enemy’s energy is aimed at getting me to curse God. Therefore, I bless God with a vengeance. I may be grim, but my insistence on praising God with abandon has made me dangerous to all the schemes of the enemy. I took my church’s training class for praying for the sick, precisely because I know this is something the enemy would hate. I don’t always know God’s will, but I often know what the enemy would hate. Instead of isolating myself in my misery, I seek fellowship. Instead of fearfully holding on to finances, I give. Instead of taking offense, I forgive. Instead of moping, I rejoice. I am dangerous and fierce.
I am a fell warrior for God is in my determination to be steadfast. When believers drift away from God and become self-absorbed instead of radically obedient, Satan wins more than one soul. Satan rejoices in the ripple-effect of the person’s unbelief and disobedience. Satan hates those who refuse to fall, who refuse to retreat, who refuse to despair. Like the Psalmists I will be grim and honest about all the troubles I face, yet declare, “God’s lovingkindness endures forever!” Holiness and humility that endures brings down the enemy’s strongholds.
As necessary as it now is put on the full armor of God, and even sleep in that armor some nights, I look forward to the reign of the Prince of Peace. Ultimately, vengeance on our enemy, although good, is not our highest motivation. We fight, endure, and persevere because we love Jesus, our King. We long to please Him, and someday be with Him. We exalt the name of Jesus because we love Him, but it is nice to know that this also torments our enemy who has stolen so much.
We can be fell and grim warriors whose greatest joy is the presence of our King.