I was thinking about why I’m so touchy lately and this thought came to me.
“My armor is broken”
I’ve already discussed, in a previous post, that I am in the midst of a period of burnout. This probably means I have some vulnerable spots where sharp words and poison darts can’t at me.
Broken Armor is simply a metaphor for one too many battles fought both inwardly and outwardly. My armor just hasn’t held up and my armor bearers are few.
I replace my own shields, my own weapons, and my own armor. I dress myself for battle. I have exposed spots where dagger and sword slip through. Things like unkind words, sarcasm, cold looks, self doubt find their mark.
We all have some kind of armor; some way we protect ourselves from life’s pains. The armor protects us physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually.
Over time, my armor has worn away, been damaged, become useless or rusted; leaving openings for strikes that harm me, wound me, and sometimes kill me.
I’ll take inventory of my spiritual armor via Ephesians 6 and seek others to inspect me before the next battle, but this warrior has lost his taste for blood.
Maybe the answer is to wear no armor at all. Quit protecting myself. Quit gearing up of for battle and go armor-less into the fray.
Anyone who loves their life will lose it, while anyone who hates their life in this world will keep it for eternal life. John 12:25
Jesus loved not his own life to the very end.
God, my armor is broken. My sword is shattered.
Let not my enemies rule over me, or find my weaknesses.
The battle waits for no one. It rages on around me.
Strengthen me, guard me, keep me.
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