The fight is on—at every level. Strife is
separating nation from nation, brother from
sister and husband from wife. The conflict
comes in varying degrees, from minor disagreements
at the office to bomb-dropping
border disputes between nations. But one
thing is certain, if you live in this world, you’re
going to have to deal with strife! And, as a believer,
you’ll have to deal with it in your own
life—severely.
Strife isn’t something you can treat casually.
It’s a deadly enemy. Just look at what the
Word says about it. James 3:16 says where
strife is there is confusion and every evil work.
Allowing strife to go unchecked or entering
into it opens the door to every evil work. A
study of the New Testament reveals strife is
a deadly enemy that must be stopped in our
daily lives.
In fact, as a born-again child of God, you
are not only expected to avoid strife, you are
expected to be a “peacemaker” (Matthew 5:9).
But is it really possible to live in a world that’s
so full of strife without being drawn into the
conflict yourself?
That’s a question I used to ask myself a lot.
My life used to be full of turmoil and conflict.
Even as a boy, I fought over everything—my
bike, my clothes—anything. It seemed that I
was always fighting!
When I was in grade school I stood out like
a sore thumb because all the other boys wore
blue jeans and I wore corduroy knickerbockers.
So other boys made fun of me by imitating the
sound my corduroy britches made as I walked,
“Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.” And
all the other kids laughed at me. That always
started a fight!
It never took much provocation for me to
end up in some kind of strife with someone.
Even as an adult, I’d look for opportunities
to fight. I’d try saying something ugly in an
elevator and then watch all the women’s ears
roll up! Then I’d hope some fellow would say
something about it so that maybe I’d get to
hit him! I was pretty ornery before I made
Jesus the Lord of my life.
Even after I was born again, I could be
pretty ornery. But then I fought with my
tongue instead of my fist. I said cutting things
that packed a more powerful punch than my
fist ever had. Instead of slugging a man in the
face, I hit him in the heart, which was much
more devastating. A black eye will heal in just
a few days, but a wounded spirit will fester
and fester until someone reaches in with the
love of God to heal it.
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