fighting your beast

"You've got to snap out of it," he said. Like just hearing the words would make me "snap out of it." Like this thing, this hell raging, pain bringing beast of a thing, could be turned off like a light switch, stomped dead like an ant, forgotten like a summer camp friend.

Well you and I both know this hell raging, pain bringing Beast has no plans of packing up his bags to leave. No, not anytime soon. You've resided to marking him down as company for every minute of every day on your calendar for the next eighty-five years. He's like a guest who forgot to bring a watch and can't get the hint you want him to leave. Besides, he has far too much luggage going with him to just "pack up and leave." And we have far too many memories that lace us together and cutting those ties will take some time and some courage.

And this hell raging, pain bringing Beast is an addiction that has been nurtured into every fiber of your being. Take the blood, Doctor, you will find him running through these veins, sucking out the life in you, the fight in you, the strength in you.

And this hell raging, pain bringing Beast of mine has been here for as long as I can remember. He went full fledged monster on me at the age of nine---when I finally realized that I was taller than everyone in the class, when I looked in the mirror and realized the magazines' shiny faces didn't look like mine, when "you're too quiet" was repeated to me each day like I had some sort of disease, making me feel like that toy that never got any loving when you were a kid, only collected dust in a corner.

And this hell raging, pain bringing Beast is growing with each passing year. And some days he grows tiny, like Alice does when she eats the treat, but some days he grows larger than life and the cage you try to him him (out of sight, but not out of mind) won't contain him any longer and he is exposed and you're embarrassed and people look at you with sympathetic eyes.

And all you want is for you to just "snap out of it;" turn the light switch off, stomp the ant dead, forget the summer camp friend. But you and him have friendship bracelets. And on his bracelet is half a heart, and on your bracelet is half a heart and put them together and you find that parting would be tough and it would cause a ruckus in your own heart and honestly snuggling up to your Beast sounds a lot more comfortable right now, so let's not talk about this anymore okay?

Because without him you don't know what your identity would be, you don't know how you would spend your time, you don't know how your life could go on, you don't know what you'd talk about with friends.

And honey, I've been there. Hell, I am there. And I don't have a degree in counseling, nor a magic potion that we can get wasted on leaving us with a hangover that has us throwing up that beast into the toilet where he belongs.  But for your sake---for my sake---and in fighting hope that this beast can and will be destroyed I have a few things you must know about your hell raging, pain bringing Beast:

we all have him
sure, he might come in a different monster suit and do different monstrous things to bring us grief, but you, me and every other person on this planet is living with that monster inside them. and maybe that brings you little comfort. maybe when people say this, it's easy to think things like, well, sure other people have their struggles but we never talk about them, so how does it help me? well read on, darling.

we must talk about him
take off that comfortable iron shield we wear as if we are fighting the whole world with our words as a weapon and our hearts as an enemy. take off the iron shield. stop speaking the nonsense language of "i'm fine" that we all seem to be far too fluent in. baby, take a deep breath and call that friend, that mentor, that person at church, that parent, that cousin. call somebody! tell them about your hell raging, pain bringing beast of a thing so that they can get well enough acquainted with him that your wise friend tells you to kill the beast mercilessly. tell that friend about your beast so that they can fight that beast along side you, until he is left bloodied and battered on the ground---defeated. put down that iron shield, darling. why?

because you deserve more
no, this isn't a superficial campaign to get you to buy some lipstick. not cheap propaganda to feed your ego. no. this is truth. truth upon truth upon truth. you. deserve. more. jesus has come to bring life---and life in abundance! and that beast of yours stops this precious gift from reaching your hands. he rips it out like a selfish toddler, hides it away and convinces you no such thing exists. but it does, my dear. you deserve to live a life without your hell raging, pain bringing beast. 

lace up those nikes, darling. you're going for a run.
some of our beasts are alluring. they come with all the glitz and glamor and glitter and we can't wait to put on that party dress and dance to miley cyrus in the club with our beast. because, truth is, some of our beasts are down right handsome. they have those sea blue eyes and shiny brown hair and a smile that could kill and when you are in their arms everything feels right (at least for a little while). but maybe for you, like for me, your Beast is blatantly unalluring. in fact, he is ugly. he is cruel and rude and unattractive. but then your friends seem to have disappeared and sadness sets in, so you pick up the phone and call your Beast up. and he becomes that friend you call when you have no one else. and then you start calling him more and more. and then soon he becomes comfortable. and baby don't i know that it's so easy to fall prey to the comfortableness of a Beast and forget all those dreams and hopes and life you've got in you. and you convince yourself that if you love him enough, and forgive him enough, and coddle him enough you can kiss him into the prince that he is, but honey this ain't no disney movie and he ain't no cursed beast with a prince charming underneath it all. he is a beast. plain and simple. and no matter how comfortable he is, no matter how attractive he is, no matter how many friends he gives you, no matter how much control or power he promises he is a beast and he is destroying your precious life. because anything that dictates our life and blocks us in our walk with our maker, is an idol. simply put? it's a sin. and let our infatuation to it be damned! sprint away from it like you're being chased by wild dogs. honey, you got the legs and the fight and the endurance so run and run and then keep on running.

take a deep breath.
don't beat yourself up when your arms get tired from fighting. don't put yourself down because you feel so weak. beasts are not easy to destroy. they take a lot of fighting and a lot of guts. and just when you think he's conquered, he shows back up into your life, like some unwanted ex-boyfriend. but don't stop, my dear. blessed be to god that if you have the holy spirit in you then you have the fight in you. so take a breath. or two. or three. and then pick back up that sword and go slay that beast.

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