It was a warning that an all knowing God lovingly gave to his son...a son who would hold the infamy of being the first to take human life. As rage and murder burned in the heart of Cain, God spoke to him words that now ring almost as clear in my own ears as if they were spoken to me directly: "Sin is couching at your door. It desires to have you, but you must master it." Lurking at the entrance to your heart...vigilantly waiting for it's opportunity. Engulfed with a desire to overwhelm you as strong as a newly-wed husband's desire for his wife on their wedding night. It's close...closer than you realize, and it's purpose is domination and control. Utterly. Completely.
But..."you must master it". There is an art of war that I must own. A warrior code that is to be as much a part of my life as breathing. A familiarity with the weapons of my warfare and the armor of God that make the word of the living God, the sword of the Spirit, feel as natural in my heart and on my lips as the clothes that hang on my body each day. "Praise be to the Lord my Rock. Who trains my hands for war; my fingers for battle." (Psalm 144:1) It is a quiet confidence in battle born out of the awareness of my dependence on God, and His loving validation, commission and protection of me. That he calls me, his child, to take my place on the spiritual battle plain and wreck havoc on darkness in the legacy of His Son. This Warrior Lamb who fought and won wars in wildernesses and gardens. And as his servant, my brother David did...standing defiantly before an enemy without a hint of fear or an ounce of compromise, intent on leaving the battleground with the rule and standard of God established in the void created by the resistance to, and the eradication of, evil. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done. In this place, as it is in heaven.
A soldier fashioned in the image of his Commanding Officer. Unmoved by civilian affairs. Seeking only to please the Master of all. (2 Timothy 2:3, 4) Hands that wield weapons with skill and precision. A heart that loves goodness with absolute passion. A humble child, in the shadow of a mighty Father, who has learned to put serpents and scorpions to flight. A heavenly host cheering. A proud Father smiling...whispering tenderly over his son: "That's my boy."
