Strength comes in many forms, but in the Kingdom of God, it has a very particular form and feel to it. One of the greatest examples I've ever seen is my dad. He's not a big guy, about 5'5, maybe, and he's even shrinking as he gets older! But don't let his size fool you.

As a young boy growing up the East Texas fundamentalist movement, I still recall several times (and a few as an adult) when my small-statured father stood head and shoulders above those around him. Whether it was supporting the pastor when a group rallied to oust him for no reason, or refusing to show bigotry to brown-skinned guests, his quiet fortitude always impressed me. He was an immovable force when the cause was just, but he wasn't loud, boisterous, or flashy. He fought with the weapons of war given him by the Lord.

My dad understood Psalm 144. The Lord was, and is, his Rock. His hands and fingers have been dutifully trained for the battle of faith. He doesn't cower in fear, but in worshipful readiness.

We continue to live in a world marked by conflict, resistance, and opposition wherein we need to be reminded that faithfulness isn't passive, it is an intentional path of pursuit. We don't accidentally or naturally drift towards steadfastness, we are formed, trained, and taught to stand in the Power of God.

I also love how, though David is arguably one of the finest warriors every to grace the ranks of Israel, he is neither frantic or intoxicated by conflict. After speaking of his battle preparation, he moves quickly into praise and language of refuge and strength, “He is my faithful love and my fortress, my stronghold and my deliverer.” Like David, we are trained for battle, but anchored in a loving relationship.

Spiritual conflict can easily tempt us to the extremes we've discussed this week. Some hope for for there to be no battles at all while others seek to make the battle the very center of their walk. As we have seen throughout this study, the scriptures deny us the ease of either, but bids us settle in the Truth of something ... different. Not in the middle, but ... different. It bids us to a life grounded in the sobriety of prepared worship. We can't discard the fight, but we mustn't lose the song either.

As David closes this song of praise, he turns it towards flourishing, fruitfulness, and the goodness which belongs only to God. The goal is a life submitted under God's blessing and rule, not characterized by strife and war. We must not allow ourselves to be a people obsessed with darkness, but a happy people whose God is the Lord.

So what are we to do now in the face of endless conflict in both realms? We worship. We trust, and we stand. Our response to discovering reality isn't fear, ignorance, or sensationalism ... it is constant, obedient praise.

Think over the spiritual battles of your life, including the ones you may be in as you read. Where do you need to have greater spiritual readiness? Where have you been tempted toward denial of the reality of battle or maybe fixated on it too much? How can worship help you, today, to fix your eyes on God rather than the conflict itself?

Father, my soul is silenced and my fears are put to rest when I remember you are my refuge and strength. Train my spiritual hands for battle and keep me grounded in worship and peace. Help my heart when it fails me and succumbs to fear of the known and unknown alike. Help me to find joy in your authority and rule. Amen.