The Battle

A Poem based on 2 Timothy 2:3-4

The Battle

“Endure hardship”,

 Paul said,

“as a good soldier”.

But the cross

 is weighing heavily on me.

I feel the chafe of its splinters.

The battle is fierce.

People are stumbling

 right and left;


 loved ones,



 turning back.

And the enemy is





I look for happiness,

 amidst the rubble,

 and close my ears to the

 cries of those around me.

Finding comfort

 in the soft clothes of




But He is urging me

 to lay them aside and

 put on

 the heavy armour

 of sacrifice,


 and faithfulness.


My Captain shows me that a sitting soldier,

 cannot carry her instrument of crucifixion.

Wage war from the sidelines.

Conquer the foe she has embraced.


I’m reminded that He

 endured the cross,

 for joy that was yet to come.

But I’d prefer joy

 without the cross:

Peace without conflict.

Comfort without cost.

I want happiness here and now,

 and later.


Only a glimpse of eternity

 can revive me from the


A vision of what has already

 been accomplished,

 and the celebration that will follow.

The realisation that my Conqueror

 and Rescuer,

 has gone ahead

 to pave the way for my return,

 preparing rest for the weary,

 reward for the wounded,

 crowns for the faithful.


And so,


 back and forth,

 the battle rages

 within my heart:

Doubt versus faith.

Anxiety versus confidence.

Who I am versus who I want to be.


So, I must run.

Keeping my eyes fixed

 on something I have not

 yet obtained.

But pressing,

 pushing on.

Laying down

 my stubborn will,

 my prideful bent,

 my unrighteous expectations,

 my selfish desires,

 my short-lived comforts,

 my long-cherished idols.

Taking up

 the shield,

 the helmet,

 and the sword,



And fighting the good fight,

 for the lasting joy,

 the Victor’s peace,

 the Conqueror’s rest,

 that can


 follow battle.