26 March 2025
This artwork represents a gruesome battlefield. If it doesn’t appear that way, don’t make the mistake to be misled by seemingly frivolous representations in the picture. It was a bloody war, great damage was done and there was no blood-curling war cry of glory.
When you are totally overwhelmed with circumstances despite the “normality of doing the washing”, you know that no amount of “war-songs”, uplifting proclamations, declarations and prayers are going to lift you up from die bloodied mud. There is no such ridiculous nonsense as lifting yourself up by your own warboots laces. You are face down in the dirt with the pressure of heavy overweight wrestlers on your back.
This is the point when you realise that you are completely helpless. Powerless and no amount of willpower is going to save you. The only way out is to acknowledge your own hopelessness. While battling with stinking soil in your face, you confess your inability to sing praise songs and declare your impotence to speak or proclaim triumph, for cannot you see any light due to the grit in your eyes.
You surrender weakly with your last breath breathing out. Total and utter dependency. I trust You, my Almighty Father God. I trust You in my desperation. I trust You in my fear. I trust You in my unbelief. Even though I cannot see, I still trust You, for You are Light. Even though I am utterly miserable, I trust You, for You are Good. Even though I have no strength left to sing even the weakest praise song, I trust You for You are Breath. You are Air. You are Brilliant. You are Holy. You are Magnificent.
Then the Spirit whispers in your ear (which was full of gunk and mud): “Stop it. It is not your fight. The battle belongs to the Lord.” A weird, insane giggle starts to bubble up inside your stomach. “The Lord your God is the One Who goes to fight for you against your enemies and gain victory” (Deut 20:4). Your whole body starts to relax from being a tightly stretched rubber band. “Do not be afraid or discouraged because of this vast, cruel and merciless army, for the battle is not yours, its God’s” (2 Chron 20:15). He is Almighty. The battle belongs to the Lord and He always claim His glory.
Suddenly there is mountain fresh air in your face. You lift up your head and see flowers and green grass and trees that clap their hands and rocks which sing God’s praises. Slowly you sit up and notice the terrible carnage around and you know that the battle is the Lord’s and you belong to Him.
It is not by our might. It is not by our declarations. It is not by our strength. It is not in proclaiming victory. It is not by lifting ourselves up out of the mud by our own bootlaces (heaven forbid). It is not even by our own faith. “It is by My Spirit,” says the Lord Almighty. “What [and who] are you, mighty mountain? Before [Me, the LORD] you will become level ground” (Zech 4:6-9).
Have a giggle. Swing your useless green feathered sword around in the fresh breeze. Pick a happy yellow flower, put it in your plastic war-helmet, smile and say “thank You, thank You, thank You Father to the n-th degree. I love You so so so so so so much!”
(The above essay and digital vector artwork is written & drawn by Sulene Taylor)