You May Have Fallen, But You Are Not Foiled

Today is a gift from God, and you marred it with sin. It was not your intention. You planned to bring God glory in all that you did, and for a portion of the day, you were on track. You started the morning with scripture; you spent time in prayer, then you were off to handle the pressures of the day, but somewhere along the way you lost focus. The world threw so many curveballs, you forgot about your Savior, and focused all your attention on issues at hand.

As you successfully navigated the first several obstacles, you began to grow confident. You believed that whatever was going to come your way would be no problem for you. You even started to feel good about yourself, thinking that what you were doing was impressive. If people knew how well you were handling it all, they would most likely applaud you.

You knew the afternoon would have more that would need your attention, but you had already handled quite a bit today, so you thought you would give yourself a short break. You knew you should be doing something else, but you deserved it. Then you came back to handle the rest of the day.

As the hours progressed, something in your spirit started to long for more. The short break was not quite enough. There was a mild dissatisfaction that wanted to be filled, an itch that needed to be scratched. Before you knew it, temptation had presented itself robed as relief, and you had given in to that old familiar sin. You did not see it coming. You were not vigilant, and the enemy caught you off guard. He sent you to the ground bleeding and cloaked your day with darkness.

As you lay there, you remember the old saying, “The strength of sin is death, and sin is the death of strength.” Now more than ever, you know that to be true. It feels like something inside you has died. The spiritual vitality that moved you in the morning, now seems to be on life support.

As you lay there wounded, the enemy hides in the darkness whispering “failure” in your direction. “You might as well hang it up,” he hisses. “You have ruined this day; you are ruined” You feel like a lost cause; you wonder if you should give up, but then something starts to stir within you. The realization of your weakness and the humility it produced turns your eyes away from yourself and the issues at hand back to the one who can wash you clean and give you new strength.

Once again, you learn to trust yourself less, and your Savior more. You remember that you do not have what it takes to run this race, yet somehow, you do not despair because you know the one who can lives within you, and greater is he who is in you than he who is in the world.

The Spirit reminds you that the wrath you deserve for the sin that so easily entangled you received its full punishment on the cross. He stands you to your feet, brushes you off, points you in the right direction, and empowers you to continue pressing toward the goal.

As you walk entirely dependent upon him, he does not leave you. He walks with you and reminds you that a soldier often wins the day after a fall; soldiers can win the battle after being wounded. Some battles in the Christian life are short-lived, but the struggle with yourself will last a lifetime. Remember this, however, life is short, and when the battle is done, comes an eternity of triumph in Christ Jesus.

Press on in the strength of the Lord. You may have fallen, but you are not foiled.

-D. Eaton

After Hill Difficulty Comes the Arbor of Rest

“No chastening seems to be joyful for the present, but painful; nevertheless, afterwards it yields the peaceable fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it.” Hebrews 12:11

How happy are tried Christians, afterwards. There is no calm more deep than that which follows a storm. Who has not rejoiced in clear shinings after rain? Victorious banquets are for well-exercised soldiers.

After killing the lion–we eat the honey;
after climbing the Hill Difficulty–we sit down in the arbor to rest;
after traversing the Valley of Humiliation, after fighting with Apollyon, the shining one appears, with the healing branch from the tree of life.

Our sorrows, like the passing keels of the vessels upon the sea, leave a silver line of holy light behind them “afterwards.” It is peace, sweet, deep peace–which follows the horrible turmoil which once reigned in our tormented, guilty souls.

See, then, the happy estate of a Christian! He has his best things last, and he therefore in this world receives his worst things first. But even his worst things are “afterwards” good things–harsh ploughings–yielding joyful harvests. Even now . . .
he grows rich by his losses,
he rises by his falls,
he lives by dying, and
he becomes full by being emptied.

If, then, his grievous afflictions yield him so much peaceable fruit in this life–what shall be the full vintage of joy “afterwards” in Heaven? If his dark nights are as bright as the world’s days–what shall his days be? If even his starlight is more splendid than the sun–what must his sunlight be? If he can sing in a dungeon–how sweetly will he sing in Heaven! If he can praise the Lord in the fires–how will he extol Him before the eternal throne! If evil is good to him now–what will the overflowing goodness of God be to him then?

-Charles Spurgeon