What happened to my fight. I'm a fighter, I've always been a fighter. I'm good at the flight part too, but I rarely back away from a good fight. I love to argue; always have. Just ask my husband. You may even be right. I may know that you're right, but I'll still challenge your point of view. It's fun for me.
So where the heck is my fight. I start to panic. I have a thought that worries me and it just spirals. I go from "Huh, that was funny I feel dizzy" to "I'm dying of a brain tumor" in all of 2 seconds. Then my heart rate climbs and I worry I'll have a heart attack. Then I get dizzy and am sure I'll pass out. Then my limbs go numb and I start to sweat. That's it I'm dying.
This sucks don't get me wrong, but that really not the worst part. The worst part is that I JUST SIT THERE AND TAKE IT! I don't fight it. I don't stare the devil, the evil thoughts and my hectic body in the face and say "do your worst, I'm not moving!". What happened to my fight? Maybe that's the real evil in all this. Maybe the devil has captured my fight.
Okay, well, that's a low blow, but how bout this. My weakness is HIS strength. You wanna take away my fight, satan, have at it. You think I was pain, you ain't seen nothing yet. I'm hurt, but not helpless. I'm down but you don't get to dictate when I'm out. You can whisper lies, speak in half truths, and attack my sense of self worth, but He promised he wouldn't leave me nor forsake me. I don't know why I'm going through this right now, but I know this. What you mean for evil, He'll use for good. I was already good, can you imagine me better? How bout healed? How bout whole? You scared yet? You're heart racing? You're hands shaking? You sweating yet? That's called a panic attack, sucker. How do you fix it when you aint got Jesus? You don't? Sucks to be you.
