I walk into Jesus’ presence, feeling weighted down by my spiritual armor that appears worn and faded due to the many dents and dings, as I awkwardly approach Him, dragging my sword of the Spirit behind me and my shield of faith hanging at my side.
“Where are you coming from, Child?” Jesus asks me as I come to a halt and stand before Him.
“The battlefield.” I reply with a weary shrug.
Jesus takes the sword from my hand and places it on a table behind Him. He then takes my shield and leans it close by. I feel lighter.
Jesus gently removes the rest of my armor and lays it on the table next to my sword. “Tell me about the battle you’ve been in.”
“I’m sorry I have to come to you like this, Jesus.” I apologize, sure He must be disappointed that I’m coming to Him with my armor in such a sad state of disrepair.
“Can you imagine how different the outcome could have been if you weren’t wearing the armor I provided for you, my child?” Jesus asks kindly as he guides me to a chair. “Please take a seat and let’s remove those shoes of peace. They seem to have some holes in the bottom that need repairing.”
Jesus finishes arranging the armor on the table and comes to sit beside me, His presence offering comfort.
“I feel so weary and worn out from the battle, Jesus. I know I have let you down. I should have been stronger and fought harder,” I said as tears streamed down my face, overwhelmed by my sense of defeat. I fall to my knees in front of Him, unable to say anything more.
“Oh, Child,” Compassion filled His voice. “Come here.” He stands and I follow; His arms pulling me into a loving embrace.
“Well done!” I hear Him declare. “Well done!”
“What?” I pull away from His embrace just enough to make eye contact with Jesus, thinking that maybe I hadn’t heard Him correctly.
“Jesus, I don’t understand. I gave up. How can I have done well?”
“You haven’t given up, child. You are battle-weary and need to be refreshed and have your armor restored. You chose to come to me for repairs and rest.”
Jesus pauses, gazing at me with eyes that reflect strength and power. “Faithful Warrior, you come to My presence to be reminded the battle does not belong to you, and never will. It has always belonged to Me. I don’t send you into battle to fight the enemy for Me, but I enter the battle with you, leading you to fight alongside Me.”
As Jesus pulls me back into His loving embrace, I feel the weight of battle weariness being lifted from my shoulders.
“Jesus?” I ask. “How will you repair the many dents and dings in my armor?”
He turns to look at the many dents and dings on my breastplate of righteousness, touching it lovingly, and responds, “That’s a good question, child, but I won’t remove any of them,” Jesus states with finality. “Each dent and ding is a reminder showing you every time My armor protected you because I had placed it on you. They are all reminders you do not fight against flesh and blood, but your battle is against the unseen evil rulers and authorities. And by the looks of your armor, Child, the enemy threw some of his worst weapons at you, but you were able to stand firm!”
“Well done, my warrior child,” Jesus repeats expressing His satisfaction again to me. “Well done!”
We both turn towards the table where my armor is lying, and I feel a fresh readiness to be back in His battle. I slip my armor back on, and the pieces of my armor feel familiar, still having their faded and worn look, yet they seem lighter and brighter somehow. I pick up my sword of truth and shield of faith, feeling my strength, alertness, and purpose being renewed for the battle – His battle.
Jesus raises His sword and declares, “The victory belongs to God, who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!” (Revelation 7:10)
“Be strong in the Lord and in His mighty power!” I shout in response as I step in place alongside Jesus, redressed in my armor – dents and all. (Ephesians 6:10)