Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it. Proverbs 4:23
“To give a man back his heart is the hardest mission on earth…
“Let’s say it’s 6 June 1944, about 0710. You are a soldier in the third wave onto Omaha Beach. Thousands of men have gone before you and now it is your turn. As you jump out of the Higgins boat and wade to the beach, you see the bodies of fallen soldiers everywhere—floating in the water, tossing in the surf, lying on the beach. Moving up the sand you encounter hundreds of wounded men. Some are limping toward the bluffs with you, looking for shelter. Others are barely crawling. Snipers on the cliffs above continue to take them out. Everywhere you look, there are pain and brokenness. The damage is almost overwhelming. When you reach the cliffs, the only point of safety, you find squads of men with no leader. They are shell-shocked, stunned and frightened. Many have lost their weapons; most of them refuse to move. They are paralyzed with fear. Taking all this in, what would you conclude? What would be your assessment of the situation? Whatever else went through your mind, you’d have to admit, This is one brutal war, and no one would have disagreed or thought you odd for having said so.
But we do not think so clearly about life and I’m not sure why. Have a look around you — what do you observe? What do you see in the lives of the men that you work with, live by, go to church alongside? Are they full of passionate freedom? Do they fight well? Are their women deeply grateful for how well their men have loved them? Are their children radiant with
affirmation ? The idea is almost laughable, if it weren’t so tragic. Men have been taken out right and left. Scattered across the neighborhood lie the shattered lives of men (and women) who have died at a soul-level from the wounds they’ve taken. You’ve heard the expression, “he’s a shell of a man?” They have lost heart. Many more are alive, but badly wounded. They are trying to crawl.forward, but are having an awful time getting their lives together; they seem to keep taking hits. You know others who are already captives, languishing in prisons of despair, addiction, idleness, or boredom. The place looks like a battlefield, the Omaha Beach of the soul.
And that is precisely what it is. We are now in the late stages of the long and vicious war against the human heart. I know— it sounds overly dramatic. I almost didn’t use the term “war” at all, for fear of being dismissed at this point as one more in the group of “Chicken Littles,” Christians who run around trying to get everybody worked up over some imaginary fear in order to advance their political or economic or theological cause. But I am not hawking fear at all; I am speaking honestly about the nature of what is unfolding around us … against us. And until we call the situation what it is, we will not know what to do about it. In fact, this is where many people feel abandoned or betrayed by God. They thought that becoming a Christian would somehow end their troubles, or at least reduce them considerably. No one ever told them they were being moved to the front lines, and they seem genuinely shocked at the fact that they’ve been shot at.
After the Allies took the beachhead at Normandy, the war wasn’t over. In some ways, it had just begun. Stephen Ambrose has given us many unforgettable stories of what followed that famous landing in Citizen Soldiers, his record of how the Allies won the war. Many of those stories are almost parables in their meaning. Here is one that followed on the heels of D-Day.
It is 7 June 1944: Brig. Gen. Norman “Dutch” Cota, assistant division commander of the 29th, came on a group of infantry pinned down by some Germans in a farmhouse. He asked the captain in command why his men were making no effort to take the building. “Sir, the Germans are in there, shooting at us,” the captain replied. “Well, I’ll tell you what, captain,” said Cota, unbuckling two grenades from his jacket. “You and your men start shooting at them. I’ll take a squad of men and you and your men watch carefully. I’ll show you how to take a house with Germans in it.” Cota led his squad around a hedge to get as close as possible to the house. Suddenly, he gave a whoop and raced forward, the squad following, yelling like wild men. As they tossed grenades into the windows, Cota and another man kicked in the front door, tossed a couple of grenades inside, waited for the explosions, then dashed into the house. The surviving Germans inside were streaming out the back door, running for their lives. Cota returned to the captain. “You’ve seen how to take a house,” said the general, still out of breath. “Do you understand? Do you know how to do it now?” “Yes, sir.”
What can we learn from the parable? Why were those guys pinned down? First, they seemed almost surprised that they were being shot at. “They’re shooting at us, sir.” Hello? That’s what happens in war – you get shot at. Have you forgotten? We were born into a world at war. This scene we’re living in is no sitcom; it’s bloody battle. Haven’t you noticed with what deadly accuracy the wound was given? Those blows you’ve taken-they were not random accidents at all. They hit dead center. Charles was meant to be a pianist, but he never touched the piano again. I have a gift and calling to speak into the hearts of men and women. But my wound tempted me to be a loner, live far from my heart and from others. Craig’s calling is to preach the gospel, like his father and great-grandfather. His wound was an attempt to take that out. He’s a seagull, remember? All he can do is “squawk.” I failed to mention Reggie earlier. His dad wounded him when he tried to excel in school. “You are so stupid; you’ll never make it through college.” He wanted to be a doctor, but he never followed his dream.
On and on it goes. The wound is too well aimed and far too consistent to be accidental. It was an attempt to take you out; to cripple or destroy your strength and get you out of the action. The wounds we’ve taken were leveled against us with stunning accuracy. Hopefully, you’re getting the picture. Do you know why there’s been such an assault? The Enemy fears you. You are dangerous big-time. If you ever really got your heart back, lived from it with courage, you would be a huge problem to him. You would do a lot of damage … on the side of good. Remember how valiant and effective God has been in the history of the world? You are a stem of that victorious stalk.”
John Eldredge in Wild at Heart (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2001) 53-55.
Since this post is long, I will keep my remarks short. The phrase that struck me, and perhaps stood out do you, was this one: “his men were making no effort to take the building.”
Someone asked me recently where I would love to travel, if I could go anywhere. They said to name three countries. I paused, and I replied, “Afghanistan, Iran, and Iraq.”
The person looked dumbfounded. “Are you kidding? He replied.” I said. I want to go to these countries and declare Joshua 1:3 in each one. It reads, “I will give you every place where you set your foot, as I promised Moses.”
Who wants to go with me. We need to storm the building where the enemy has made a stronghold not because we are strong, but because God is looking for courageous people.
I count it a privilege to spend the three days with my wife’s parents. This post seemed fitting as Jenni’s dad served in the Navy. Hat tip today to veteran soldiers and courageous people willing to claim countries for Jesus Christ.
Give your life to that and you will not lose it. You will find it. Or just stay back in your comfort zone and do nothing whilst the evil one, like a bunch of Nazi German troops, destroys the world.