After weeks of nursing my three littles through the nasty summer crud that’s been sweeping through town, I succombed. And, as is often the case for mamas in the sick-bay trenches, my sleep-deprived body was no match for the crud that hit me like a ton of bricks. What began as a nasty cold/flu evolved into a nagging cough, which blossomed into a full-blown lung infection.
It was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad time.
All that to say, I had some extra time recently to catch up on my reading and Facebook. I clicked over to a friend’s page who had recently moved, hoping for an update on her new life in North Carolina. What I found instead were words she shared with hurting and upset friends after suffering deep injustice.
“The way we fight defines us.”
I stopped dead in my tracks, nearly choking on my tea.
The words were so simple, and at the same time profound. They rang of truth, and have stuck in my head since I read them.
The way we fight defines us.
These words weren’t spoken to people of faith, but without a doubt they have challenged mine.
For those of us who represent Christ when we call ourselves his followers, what does the way we fight say about him? Do we take the high road, even when the invitation to travel the low is desperately tempting? Do we hit back? In the midst of deep frustration and anger, do our actions point others toward or drive them away from Jesus?