Atrophy in a state of Grace

I Samuel 17

2 And Saul and the men of Israel were gathered together, and pitched by the valley of Elah, and set the battle in array against the Philistines.

3 And the Philistines stood on a mountain on the one side, and Israel stood on a mountain on the other side: and there was a valley between them

8 And he stood and cried unto the armies of Israel, and said unto them, Why are ye come out to set your battle in array? am not I a Philistine, and ye servants to Saul? choose you a man for you, and let him come down to me...

Matthew 11

12 From the days of John the Baptist until now, the kingdom of heaven has been forcefully advancing, and forceful men lay hold of it.

It is simply to easy to say the church needs revival. If only only the church would awake. My friends this is the coward's answer to his own hearts cry. He lays this burden at the feet of other's because he too often lacks the conviction to take up the mantle himself. A coward's cry to an idle of hope.

The battle is arrayed. Philistia stands across the valley in full array. My challenges present themselves fully, they don't hide as I would pretend. They are enemies both within myself and without, but they are there. But where am I? I am sitting in the midst of my brethren; safe and comfortable talking of the power of my God, the strength of my convictions. But still I do not move. I am unmoved. I am scared and I am complacent. The side of the Valley on which I camp is still a mountain and to meet my enemy I must cross the valley and take from him what is mine. But I don't cross. I sit and I stare.

So there am I, cold, and still. Arrayed for the battle, given arms, given commission, but still I sit. I sit to afraid to move because my comfort makes me grow small while all the while my hope grows ever stronger because that hope is never tested. My faith is never tried, so why shouldn't it grow stronger in its own convictions?

Faith never tried will atrophy into the vain hopes of a man to afraid to realize what true hope and faith are.

I atrophy. I atrophy in this state of grace where God has said all my promises are yours through my son, Christ Jesus. I atrophy because in my DNA is this new creature, remade into the image of God's own son who rather than join the fight after his hands have been taught to war, sits on one side of the Valley waiting for this great host of the church to rise. But I know unless I lay a hold of the one who is the author of my faith, I will never rise and I will always be looking for a David who is willing to make my faith real, show me what hope really is. I will always look for Gideon to tear down my idles of hope and force me to realize victory.

My heart's cry will never be realized until I stand up as David did and say "who is this....this challenge," and "whose am I."

So today I stand, and I know I am not the only one standing, in the middle of a great host raising cries of hope, but never acting. So today I must change my cry, I must no longer cry to hope, cry to God, but cry out as David did, "I am come in the name of Lord." My faith must become real. My faith must be tried.

The full might of Israel may have been in the army for they are the ones who pursued and crushed the enemy. But the victory of faith was in David, because he stood and rebuked the decay of hopes deferred.

If our God is real and if he is who his promises claim him to be: if my faith is as he said it can be, I must arise and shine for his light has come upon me. I have no more excuses not to run the race and fight the fight of faith. I have no more reasons to build alters to hope, alters that destroy my faith rather than worship the author of the victory.