Do You Know How to Fight? -- Part 3

-->

If you missed part one, go here. If you missed part two, go here.

Now, part three…

"Now Robby, tomorrow when you come home from school--we're going to do something a little different. We're gonna, "Go live!"

"Go live?" I asked nervously. "What's that?"

That’s pretty much where we left it but I promise you, I was anything but casual about my uncle’s parting words that day. I wondered on the one hand why he couldn’t just ease my fears and give me at least a hint at what, “go live” really meant. On the other hand, I pretty much knew deep down! And it terrified me! This was why he wasn’t my favorite uncle and all at once that aspect of our relationship was all I could remember.

So I barely slept that night. Or the next. Or the next.--turns out it would be a few days before he made it back over to our house.

BTW, you all need to know that the school yard bullies were still taking turns rearranging my face every day. Nothing had changed on that front. It wasn’t as though the Katella Elementary Violence Union had convened to consider giving me a break while I promised to take classes in self defense in order to make their sport more entertaining. In fact, I hadn’t even mentioned my membership in the newly formed, “Fight Club,” for fear they would add comedy to pummeling at recess. So, my life still hovered between good days (miserable) and bad days (hell on earth).

Three days of physical abuse and mental anguish later, I returned home from school to see my uncle and aunt at the house. For his part, my uncle acted like he’d forgotten about his roll as president of the fight club—thankfully, the site of a massive cut on my forehead jarred his memory.

“What happened?!” He said.

“Shawn happened,” I snapped back.

“Why didn’t you use some of that stuff I’ve been showing you?” He inquired.

I looked down embarrassed—far more interested in my shuffling feet than in the turn the conversation had taken.

“Never mind, I think I know. We were talking about goin’ live, last time—weren’t we?” he continued.

“I don’t really remember,” I lied.

“Well I do” He continued undaunted. “Hey ladies, mind if Robby (Did I ever mention…) and I go out back for a bit. I need to show him something?” They nodded. “Good,” he said, “It shouldn’t take long."

Once we got to the backyard everything seemed to start just as it had on all the other days, the fighting stance, the jab’s, looking for openings as my uncle danced around the invisible boxing ring.

Except for one small thing…

BOOM!

Out of nowhere, my uncle clocked me up the side of my head! My ears were ringing and my hands dropped to the side. I was stunned. “Hey, what are you—"

But I didn’t have much time to play the victim, because, as soon as my hands dropped he hit me on the other side of the head, then the other, again and again.

“”Cut it out!” I screamed. What are you doing?! That hurts! So does that! I’m telling mom!”

“Go ahead,” he said as he continued raining blows down on me. “But nothing’s gonna change in your life if you don’t decide right here and now—“

“SMACK” I managed to land one upside his head, though I had to jump up to do it, and truth be told, it was more of a glancing blow than a direct hit. I would have loved to use the word, “BOOM” to describe my hit like his, but alas, the writers guild dictates that I can only take so many liberties in the retelling of this biographical account if I hope to keep it in the nonfiction genre.

He seemed surprise and pleased at the same time. He grinned. “That’s the idea! See if you can do it again!”

And round and round we went. I landed several more blows that day and even managed to block some of his punches—though, looking back I’m pretty sure he was a heavyweight fighting willingly as a somewhat drunk looking fly weight just to give me some hope. I don’t think any day on the playground at school had ever left me that battered. At the same time, I never felt so good!

After what seemed like an eternity of this, my uncle abruptly ended our session.

“You’re ready,” he declared—looking at me like a hamburger ready to come off the grill. “Tomorrow can change everything for you if you decide to make some changes. Tomorrow, when Shawn or anyone else approaches you for the normal routine of punch the defenseless kid till he cries, you make sure they are the ones crying. And I’m serious! You need to make an impression. I don’t care if it lands you in the principle’s office—make it count!” He looked me up and down approvingly and added one more time, “Yeah, you’re ready,” then returned inside to join the women.

But was I? One thing was for sure, the next day I would find out--ready or not.

What does all this have to do with God? After all, this is a pastor’s blog. Well, most of the tie in will be in the final installment next time, but here’s what I want you all to be thinking of as you wait…

I want you to think long and hard about the definition of insanity,

Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.

More Christians live defeated lives then victorious ones—BY FAR! The desire is certainly there for most of them to live with greater faith and confidence for the Lord, but the results just aren’t.

Why?

It’s like I said in, “Do You Know How to Fight? – Part 2,” It’s not a matter of desire, it’s a matter of being clueless as to what kind of battle we all are involved in the first place. It’s not physical—it’s spiritual. Remember what Paul said to the Ephesians?

“For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.” Ephesians 6:12

If it’s spiritual but you’re fighting physical—you’re gonna get your spiritual butt whooped every day! And it’s gonna keep right on getting whooped until something changes. So why don’t we all make a decision here and now to change?

You with me?

Good, because part 4, we go live!